Saturday, November 24, 2012

I can't even begin to tell you what it's like
At the very age I met my groom to be
What shall I dare say?... 
Intrigue lies around the corner
Heart beating rampantly in my chest
A surge of exploding hormonal ecstasy
Panting frantically at the open door
Locked within.

Who pummeled?!
The nights of long surrendering, gone.
A mother, lonely grasping at straws to hold on 
to the last lock, the last locket. 
Curls cascading, past the frock.
 A windowpane seared upon opening. 
Popcorn tossing in the brisk wind. 
Pajama parties, searching, wondering
The last hem. 

Whom shall be beyond the very stitch? 
I've held on for dear life. 
Raised her from a filly. 
A colt. Blasting through the gate. 
I  can no longer contain. 
Youth and madness must circumvent.
Find a way to coexist. 
I'd give anything to take back the years
the locusts have stolen. 

But for now I will cherish 
Gain a new appreciation for fondness
Learn to rest my weary head 
And dream of what is never lost. 

Sunday, November 18, 2012


For some reason I decided not to write.
There wasn't anything different about the day 
or the air.
It was an intentional decision
Poignant and from the heart. 
And I decided not to post. 
Many eyes were upon me and I responded 
To nothing no one and 
Very intentional indeed. 
I parted a farewell
A very fond farewell.
It wasn't that I couldn't write. 
I knew there were words forming in my head. 
I just simply chose to not put them upon the paper. 
I walked alongside the ocean
And I heard the screams
Telling me to toss them in
Everyone of them
And I silently listened
To the roar and the pounding surf
And I obeyed to the christening of the folds 
And the panting of the water. 
As it beckoned me. 
I thought at that moment I would toss in the words
and I would never hear from them again. 

And peace enveloped my soul. 

Another season has passed 
And I am calling upon the words
The sensitivity
As I so keenly need to listen 
and hear them chant once more.  
What I thought I had lost
Has now remained. 
And I must tune my ear to the cry once again
The pounding of the surf
The sand beneath my feet. 
No more. 

Nothingness again is calling to me 

Friday, March 23, 2012

The Days of Hunger

 We exist in the days of hunger and revolution.
Viral expansions of those crying for morsels of warmth and justice
Tranquility yet to be mourned...
"A piece of bread would buy a bag of gold." 
Is it apocalyptic or a figment of the imagination?
Hearing what our itching ears want to hear.
Deafening and defaming the shouts of our children.
The charades continue in capitalistic
Labyrinths of humanity encircled by the mazes of our soul preoccupation.
Shall I dare ask for a crust, to dip it in the milk of mankind. 
 Gently awaiting the weeping and reaping of another, mangled in the excuses of violence and bloodshed. 
The moans of our saints lie in spattered streets while the sheets enclose the mutations.
Silence shall be broken.

We exist in the games of hunger and revolution

Silence the cries.  

Sunday, January 1, 2012

Unfolding of the Journey 2012

To pluck or be planted
In the moist dry soil
A seasoned
Time Under heaven

Through birth or death
To kill or heal
That is the question

As the dry leaves break down
The lack of crystals and emerald blades

Weeping will build
Upon the laughter of frowns

To mourn or dance
That is the dilemma

We shall embrace
And throw away stones together

When we refrain
We shall number the lost
Not keep

But purge
The sewn silence

The word of Love will be spoken
Not Hate
Not War

"Five hundred twenty seven thousand and forty
How will you spend them?
(Inspired by Ecclesiastes 3)

Happy New Year!

Friday, December 30, 2011

The Celebration of One's Mankind

Glistening glasses of  champagne bubbles.

Sparkling about.

Cardboard golden paper hats.

Flimsy and whimsical.

Noisemakers and tinny hollow sounds.

French Silk pie from Baker’s Square.

Shrimp and sushi as friends and family embrace.

Meaningless or mindful traditions?

Crowds packed in frigid weather just to see the crystal fall.

Another year passing.

The culmination of good and evil.

Wicked smiles and joyful grins.

Streamers floating about.

Littering the streets.

People pounding on stainless steel.

For what?!  What does it mean?!

Another year wiser?  Another year of uncertainty?

Children’s delightful laughter.

Prancing about.

Couples sharing a romantic kiss.

Others alone in an empty house.

A time for vows and resolutions.

To be fought.  To be gained.

Auld Lang Syne.

Memories fleeting by…

On long cold cobblestone streets.
And clock towers.

Ringing the chimes.

A celebration of one’s passing.

And one’s beginning.

A new start.

A fresh awakening.

A pouncing of the old ways.

Lessen the stagnancy of tomorrows.

Lost letters,

Unreturned correspondences,

Broken promises.

No longer!

New caresses.

Lighter steps.

A welcome glance and dance to the day.

A scattering and smattering of one’s thoughts and one’s dreams.

Upon the concrete walks of the morrow.

Should auld acquaintance be forgot and never brought to mind….

( a re-posting...Happy New Year...Lorely)

Friday, December 23, 2011


I don’t even like coffee, not really
yet the warm confines speak to me.
They welcome my soul to a place of solace and comfort.
Sienna tones and cinnamon frothy smells
seduce me away from the daily drudge and grime.
Learning what is good, what still remains,
as this world slowly solidifies away.
Sip by sip.

Listening to the dusky sounds of Mahalia Jackson,
escaping from the harried shoppers.
Hurry, Worry, Panic, Shop!

Who has time to listen to the silver bells?
To take in the brisk air of a live nativity scene?

Christmas, what is that really?
How does a baby’s birth speak to our planet?
Who has time to listen to the baby’s cry?
To envision his sacred mother?

O Come let us adore Him…
Are we adoring Him?

Or have we become one of many who scurry past the bellowing symphony of a Holy Night?
Not even hearing it’s reverberations.

Yet everyday, opportunities await.

A cold person yearning for shelter.
A widow or widower in distress.
A child spending another night in fear.
A young man fighting his addictions.
A person looking for acceptance.

How do we break out of our warm toasty homes?
to welcome the prodigal ones?

Tis much more pleasant to sip creamy coffee and watch the world go by…..

This season may we take a moment
To hear the baby’s cry amongst the crowd, the sacred.

And stop and reflect on God’s goodness.
His first gift to mankind.

To see his face in the glistening ornaments hanging on the tree.

To pause and be thankful.

“O come let us adore Him…”

Sunday, December 18, 2011


There shall a star from Jacob come from
and a sceptre shall rise out of Israel....

Sometimes the greatest of gifts remain untouched
remains lying in a vacant cluttered cupboard
crumbs spilling about...
The empty hollow taste,
the touch of a friend's attempt,
a glimpse of but a shadow of the past.

Our lives are filled with crumbs and palate and empty morsels
mostly given from the heart.
The question is what to do with the particles that remain.

Hide them under a bushel ?No!
Talents which lay unspoken can be brought about
just by the faint affirmation of love

Holidays escalate the clatter
the loud din which occurs in whispered corners
and kids frolicking about...
A manic pace rushes in to absolve of guilt

"This little light of mine....I'm going to let it shine, let it shine, let it shine, let it shine..."