I am loathe to attribute my limited perspective as fact to circumstances and situations that were mired in half truths and hopeful lies. This week’s poem is titled Fumbled and can be found in Dark Road, now available on Amazon.
Fumbled in our darkness
Fumbled in our dreams
Bitter taste of failing
Try and try again
To be less, more, something in between
Until broken, love diminished, grief
Futility, missteps, angst
We stood no chance
Fumbled in our darkness
Fumbled to be free.
ThIs poem is not from Dark Road, but comes from a place that inspires me. Perhaps today I longed for Baja waves and my besties and the lyricism of Spanish.
Sirena dreams sea and stone
Wanderer, heart alone
Sings refrain of ocean tides
Time space divides
Righted wrongs, wronged rights
Questions waves incite
Duality caught between
Tender smile, cruel screams
Bound by choice, where none exists
Imagined sorrow’s kiss
Pearl born from the mundane
Stares upon reflection changed
Sirena sueña mar y piedra
Vagabundo, solo corazón
Canta estribillo de mareas oceánicas
El tiempo se divide
Malos derechos, derechos injuriados
Preguntas que incitan las ondas
Dualidad atrapada entre
Sonrisa tierna, gritos crueles
Limitado por elección, donde no exista
El beso del dolor imaginado
Perla nacida de lo mundano
Miradas fijas sobre reflexión cambiadas
I can’t remember which came first the picture or the poem. Perhaps it is of no importance. Here is this week’s selection from Dark Road, a collection of poems by yours truly, now available on Amazon. Thanks for taking a moment to muse.
taste of uncertainty
wind rustles through the trees
leaves fall on my beliefs
stillness waits, shadows grieve
I let go to be free
A sleepless night spent at a truck stop in the middle of nowhere as we traversed across the prairies…..
Prairie guardians, flightless steel
Landscape stretches surreal
Cries of hunter’s, captives caged
Time falls upon the strange
Scent of yellow fields fill
Vastness stretches until
We are lost, we are found
Wheels turn, road stretches on.
Another offering from “Dark Road”, my 1st collection of poetry. Here’s to detours, being lost, discoveries and trusting your own voice wherever the journey and the pen leads.
Waiting for the ordinary
on a Tuesday in May, barely
warm enough for the cotton dress
blue striped, clings to her swelling breasts;
the world passes aquamarine eyes
and in that moment, she decides
stirs her tea, sips in contentment
perfume of lilacs is sweetest
as you turn from Oak onto Main
every breath is never the same.
Welcome to Monday Morning Musings – I thought I would start with a poem I shared at a Poetry Fest once upon a time and a photo from a recent Saturday morning walk.
Perils & Pearls
I cannot ask what I cannot give
I will not excuse the truth I live
Complications of my creation
Spirit’s quandary, my destination
Spectrum of gray shades actions, choices
I am one of the nameless voices
Who stands to fall in the name of this
Perils and pearls for those who dare risk.
My 1st collection of poetry titled “Dark Road” is now available on Amazon and through other online distributors.
Poetry has offered me solace, momentary respite, wondrous delight, stars in my darkness and a passion for the rhythms and moods of words. Afternoons dreaming at Walden’s Pond, adrift with The Lady of Shalott to Camelot, odes on Grecian urns and tenement walls, Will’s sonnets, whimsical Seuss & Carrol’s Jabberwocky, Eliot’s felines and Sylvia’s sorrows were my beloved companions.
Coil notebooks filled with scribbled lines of teenage angst, foolish love, and two a.m. doubts in faded blue ink. Words an avenue to acknowledge myself and my feelings when most often I felt invisible. Poetry helped this too world wise child find her voice. It has continued to be a means to have my say even when no one is listening or seems to care. I still have my perspective albeit right, misguided or somewhere in between.
Perhaps there are others in the world who seek a moment to pause and muse over a few lines before the demands of the world force them back into the crashing waves of life.
Monday Morning Musings kicks off on June 3. I will post a poem from “Dark Road” weekly over the next few months. Here’s to detours, being lost, discoveries and trusting your own voice wherever the journey and the pen leads.
As I prepare to release Dark Road, my first collection of poems I have been reminiscing about how poetry came into my life.
The library was a refuge for the misfit, cross eyed, single parent kid attending Catholic school. Books were my friends and offered opportunities for great adventures and fun. They didn’t tease or judge me and offered escape and solace from a misunderstood world. There was a worn and weighty sky blue hued bound book filled with poems. I would get lost in its pages for hours curiously comforted by the rhythms and moods that were found within.
I saw my first Shakespearean play when I was nine and fell in love with the musicality of the words and the theatre. Dear Uncle Llew with his lilting Welsh accent recited snippets of Keats, Shelly, & Dickinson to me and whoever was within earshot. My mother had an amazing record collection and I listened to opera, Frank Sinatra, Kris Kristofferson, and a.m. pop radio. Words falling onto my ears and into my heart.
On the shelf is a collection of love poems from a sweet ex lover that I have held onto for over two decades despite letting him go. Cohen, Plath, Walden, Jim Carroll, Will and his sonnets, Susan McMaster, Rumi, Dr. Seuss and Jewel are fragments of my poetic journey.
Poems are bite sized morsels in a too busy world. They allow us to pause, to feel, to wonder. They are mysteries to unravel, breaths of crisp air, sweet promises, youth’s outrage and two a.m. heartbreak. They are our moments captured.
A year ago with the support of friends and fans, we realized our Kickstarter goal for “The Remenbering Wall.” There were still a few production hiccups and layout challenges, but we delivered the books to everyone who had pre-ordered by February when I flew to Mexico to make an extra special delivery to my Baja family.
The past year has seen me visit 15 schools and youth groups in Edmonton, Medicine Hat and Loreto, BCS Mexico. The Remembering Wall has found a home on bookshelves, and in schools and libraries around the globe including Italy, Sweden, Mexico, Bali, England, Croatia, France, the United States, and from coast to coast in Canada. To all of my travelling friends I am happy to give you a paperback copy to deliver to a library or school on your next adventure so get in touch.
“The Remembering Wall” starts conversations about diversity, connections, and community. Children are wise and know that even though we have many differences we are all part of the human race. We each have a story, hearts and feelings. Treating others with kindness and respect makes our world a nicer place.
Thank you for being part of this journey. I’m working on a book of poetry and planning for another children’s book in 2018.
Peace & Happiness
I was an only child raised by a hard working single mom. There wasn’t money for extras, but she managed to find a way to send me to summer camp when I was eight and nine years old. And I am glad she did.
I remember the list – an assortment of the necessities a camper would need plus the reminders to write one’s name on all items with permanent marker. Waving from the bus window as we headed off on this grand adventure and counsellors teaching us camp songs that had been passed down from generation to generation with a few updates here and there. The first night in the cabin with eight little girls hysterically crying that they were homesick and two weeks later those same eight girls hysterically crying that they were having to leave their forever camp friends. Learning how to make S’mores over the campfire, jumping off the pier into the ice cold lake, afternoon crafts that often involved macaroni, glitter and Aylmer’s white glue, putting on plays, green Jello, and a sense of fun and comraderie.
I have been invited back to camp ….. summer day camp to talk about being an author and why I love reading and to share my two books with the kids.
The day camps are for children who are recent immigrants to Canada. For most this will be a brand new experience. Many of them and their families have been impacted by war, famine, racism, trauma and unimaginable losses. The camps will give them an opportunity to practice their English, try out some new activities and sports, have fun, meet some new friends and perhaps even make S’mores.
Summer camps offer opportunities for children to play and learn and have positive role models. The campers often become strong leaders, problem solvers, team players, and are more empathetic and independent. Perhaps the camp experience should be mandatory for all of us so we can remember that we are all in this together and sometimes sharing S’mores and sitting around the campfire singing makes life a little nicer.
Peace & Happiness