My Feline Acrobat

My Feline Acrobat


I’m busy doing
my morning routine
in the bathroom.

Sasha likes to sit in
the north-facing window there
in the cool dawn shade.

I’m between the floor
and the window sill. She
does not want me to pick her up.

From the marble tiles,
she bounds up to my right leg,
springing onto the window sill.

As she grooms herself,
only then does my feline roommate
allow me to pet her longer than momentarily.



May 6, 2011

A Day at the Park...

The lake at MacArthur Park in the Westlake/MacArthur Park section of LA isn't the most beautiful of lakes. It's a park that sits right in the middle of the city. But, I took this photo because of the message and painting on the concrete planter. Before I snapped the photo, there were 3 seagulls sitting there. I waw just a minute too late, since the one sea gull took off. But I like the message, "Let's Work Together." Sounds like a good thing for all of us to do on any day.

Tonight on the way home, I saw a woman get on the bus; she hadn't closed her wallet correctly, and there was something that looked like it was going to fall out of it. I tapped the man in front of me on the shoulder and asked very politely if he could tell her. Well, he was less than polite, telling me that I was bothering him. Such is life. I told the woman on the when I exited the bus and she thanked me.

Is there ever any season or right time for being courteous or kind? I think not...

Some of the birds at MacArthur Park

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I love birds, I don't care what kind they are. I even love birds other people think are pests. Well, MacArthur Park isn't one of the best parks in SoCal, but I needed a walk the other day and I walked around the lake and took pictures of the birds there. Here are just a few of the photos I took.

Photos from Memorial Day

Seeing as how I dislike posting my photos on facebook - it's too difficult and causes too much trouble on my computer, I will post them here from now on. My friends can come here and look at my photos. This way they belong to me and I don't have to fuss with fb's stupid rules. ;-) I had more photos, but they didn't come out very well - I'm still trying to learn what I'm doing with my camera (most of the photos turned out like the people in them had skin disease since I used the wrong light setting) - but I have been getting more comfortable with the basics of Photoshop. Enjoy the few photos I have posted here. When I get time, I'll revise and post more.

One Bird

Bird on rope
sits
in quiet contemplation

Crimson sun
frames
tiny song messenger

Avian contends with
dangers
speaking its own foreign tongue

Human writing poem
wishes
to understand this language

Before the next
sunset
winged creature flies home

Black Shirts of Love: Sixteen Short Years

in memory of Melody Ross, 16 years old

Who says one person can't
make a difference?
When a stray bullet
cut Melody's life short,
a wave of students
wearing black shirts
in her memory
swept across the nation
reminding those who knew her
and those who didn't
how much her life meant
and what it represented

Melody and I are worlds
apart since she will never reach
old age and I look back
on my youth in high school
as a distant memory
when we never worried
about stray bullets
or our fellow students
having guns

We grew up with different
concerns because then,
as high school students
we wept for a president we
saw as our nation's hope
while her classmates
shed tears for a girl whose
potential remains untapped
for firearms are too easily
accessible

Reading the news story today
I wept for Melody's
family and friends who
understood as a result
of her death that life
does not have enough time
to spread love through
sixteen short years

Tearful Way

Awakening from her dream
she cries
knowing
that her tears spill
into all grief's stages
welcomed
as a way to help
its flow
to a place
where she meets
the One who can
soothe the ache
no one can see
or touch

Moon Ride

She was at my left shoulder
during most of the ride
whispering what I chose
not to believe
You're stronger than you know"
I looked at her

She winked
Yes,it's true

Then she disappeared
hiding in front of the bus
I settled in with my thoughts
and came into the station

Exiting the bus
there she was to greet me
shining over the station entrance

Ok, I agree with you

first clematis

first clematis

lonely clematis
first one to arrive
grace this unadorned stone wall
before long other blossoms will flourish
craft a blush carpet

along this tall divider
awakened from winter’s
slow sleep opened lilac blooms
brighten fertile vines
in summer’s mirthful rotation

invite into your center’s heart
honey bees and hummingbirds
to feed, to spread your beauty
companionless clematis you live
today and die tomorrow

while you breathe the Lord
loves your provisions
when you expire He will gather
all your companions into His arms
as He does with each cherished creation

On Becoming a Sexagenarian

On Becoming a Sexagenarian

In my teens, I wanted to be old enough to drive
When I attained that freedom, I didn’t realize
its full responsibility

Before I turned 21, I desired the ability to drink
alcohol legally in NJ; when I did, I could not
comprehend its destructive power in my life

In my thirties, I mourned leaving my twenties
as I was now in the phase of my life
where I once said, “don’t trust anyone over thirty”

When I hit the big four-o, I learned it was not
a fatal condition; I was not as wise or grown-up
as I thought I was in my twenties

Then I became fifty; it was an age people
called “over-the-hill,” so why did I not feel that way?
After all, age was a mental aberration

And now, I reach a milestone to which
I look forward because in the ensuing years
being in your sixties became acceptable

A Different Teacher

A Different Teacher

She never went to school
but she taught lessons
I’ve never learned
in any course

Education I receive
takes time
and is often repeated
I can’t ask this lady questions
since her language and mine
are not distinctly understandable
to each other
Yet, we have our own
kind of communication

In her way
she showed me
that allowing her the choice
of coming
to me without seeking
her first means
more intimate acceptance
of my companionship

My own assignments
I often comprehend with difficulty
that being who I am
is more attractive
than if I seek to be like
those whose company I desire

Blindspot

In that moment
when going from light
to dark where
no vision exists
back into sun again
when sight returns
it’s too late
for defensive moves
to avoid the inevitable

Quite a forgotten blog...

I sometimes can't keep up with my blogs. So I'm just posting something here to let myself know I'm still in the game.

Cheetah

She’s fast
just by looking at her
body design
It’s evident in the way
nature made her
long, thin legs
deep chest for larger lung capacity
black tears down the face
a longer tail to balance and steer

Such a good mother
to cubs who sometimes don’t
make it to adulthood
as she preys so her cubs
become prey
for lions and hyenas
They are stronger than she
this lonely mother
with no help raising offspring

Still neither of these creatures
chirps and purrs
the way cheetah vocalizes
giving the illusion
she’s not as ferocious
as those who roar
or bark

Centered in Blue

earth is
thirsty for what falls
from above azure
as steely bundles of porous
cotton blot it out
Their undersides form angry
grey masses
Heavy air electrifies
with potential

she
has no azure crowded out
by massed anger
just falling tears
from earth-tone eyes
Life’s drought
shows in aged skin

earth’s
Golden leaves lean with invisible
pressure moving through their
branches that fall
when their cycle finishes

her
branches don’t reach
towering toward the sky
in mute supplication
They don’t sway with
powerful invisible forces
Desires drown in cupped hands
twist into a shapes formed
by concrete boundaries
binding an inconspicuous heart