Bitter Exhaustion

I’m the queen of good intentions when my kingdom turns to dust
ancient pallisades and bastiens sinking in the molten crust
dazed reflections of tomorrow in the shadows left before
knotted hands are left to borrow until there is no more
infection sinking deeper than all else ever will
the climb gets only steeper until I am eternally still

Stepping Onstage

Illness

the desperation of aching skin
stiff joints, slow roast in the eye sockets,
ears, throat, one flu over
the cuckoo’s nest
chills and heat
chills and heat
goosebumps on my goosebumps
sleep, sleep, sleep

Yellow

huddled in the pre-dawn warmth
of bed and pillow
staring at the ceiling
alone

Adults and Guests Only

Concert Reruns

A collection of videos of my kids performing throughout the years. Some good, some better.

Caged

Sunrise

the light is pulled from the tunnel
pressed into thin sheets
that drape across the sun
spilling to earth

Sequester Me

Stayed at work from 7:40 am until 9:40 pm with a fifteen minute dinner break. The concert last night went off better than expected. The superintendent was there and didn’t even pretend I existed but exchanged congratulatory words with my coworker.

When planning the seating, three seats were saved for my coworkers who were playing a trio together, and I had to sit in the back behind the kids even though I was playing a piece, as well.

My coworker left before cleaning was done, and I arrived at work at 6:40 am today to make sure the piano was picked up safely.

I’m cradling a 2 liter bottle of Dr. Pepper and desperately waiting for the caffeine to kick in.

My coworker told me to bring my class of twenty something hyperactive freshmen down to pick up the food from last night’s reception, of which they would not be able to partake. They responded by briskly breaking one of the glass jar lids a parent had graciously let us borrow.

Today marks the beginning of the sequester.

Tiny injustices. Real pain.

Mottled

Prenatal

Footsteps (Photo credit: rofi)

the things that live in our footsteps
lives won and lost
battles rage, a holocaust microbial
ancient whispers
of what our life once was
when walls were womb-thick

Flow Free

Part of my free art to a good home project.

Contemplating My Navel

navel to spine
branches rustle
scrape the outside walls
refocus
navel to spine
muscles twitch
ache, spasm
distant dog howl
refocus
navel to spine
aligning limbs
poise and balance
rooted to the ground
toes splayed out like starfish
a car horn,
someone topples
droplets of sweat trickle down face
itching, sliding, slipping
refocus
crown of the head reaching out
navel to spine

Cardboard Tunnel

Carpet Jungle Sunset

Tigre All Grown Up

Much overdue pictures of my Bengal.

Sometimes, this is how he makes me feel.

City Symphony

street light glow
hazy circles rubbing
salty concrete to a shine
sky scraper melodies
muffled closed-door arguments
babies cry for love of the night
sirens sing us to sleep
man overboard, over the covers
across the iron bars
of slick fire escape vine
peering over the jungle
veiled by cloudy cigarettes
and the street light glow

Second String

Free Art to a Good Home

I’ve embarked upon a new project. 

What I Do:

• Create a doodle/drawing on copy paper with pens, paint markers and/or other materials
• Write a positive/inspiring word or phrase
• Fold the drawing inside another sheet of paper marked “Free Art to a Good Home”
• Go to the White Pages and search for a random last name in a random state
• Look through the list of people and pick a random person
• Mail the artwork to the person at the address listed in the phone-book

Why I’m Doing This:

• People don’t get enough positive messages each day
• The excitement of getting personalized mail is dying, but it’s worth passing on to the next generation
• I need to do more good deeds
• The project may spread art to people who don’t ordinarily think about the discipline
• It’s a very cathartic process
• I have lots of extra stamps 
• I want to support the postal service

Learning A New Camera: A Study in Knees