Wednesday, September 28, 2011

One Thing She Enjoyed

try to think about a good time
not think about the first seven months
she enjoyed the music in the park
she just wanted to be with me

see all the little children dance
sit and eat her big oatmeal cookie
walked around to see someone she knew
maybe go buy the band's CD

it didn't take much to make her smile
her legs and feet bounced in time
with the beat and fast melody
while looking at all the people

when it was time to go home
gather up our chairs and tote bags
walked to the car and I'd drive her home
didn't want me to leave her alone

But I had to my own place
I had to get ready for bed
I had to work the next day

Sunday, July 24, 2011

Latest Micropoetry on Twitter - July 2-24

flutter and buzz
zapping themselves
the floodlight

of nearby trees
their branches
an endless

nature embraces coolness
after a swift rain
wet earth transforms smells
a soiled sensation in my nose
gentle wind tickles my skin

tall grass
upside down
bird feet

a rainbow left
its full spectrum
comet tail
between clouds

three quarter moon
is either shaped
from too much food
or is one quarter

black sky
and busted its veins
summer monsoon
is coming

I wink
at the moon
and the moon
at me back

the bullied moon

short petalled
yellow mums
jiggle under
the air-conditioner
they need full sunlight

scorching sun
fresh cut grass needs water
yellow mums need planting
I stay inside
it's too hot

newly planted
yellow mums
with its new
planter home

on the side
of my shed
are purple flowers
too bad
they're on tall weeds

the weeds
are having a hey day
in my back yard
the grackles
don't mind

poor yellow mums
planted last week
choking heat
them all

frail baby willow
half bare
the wind
blew away
part of its virtue

chubby sparrow
is playing
jungle bird
my tall grass

roasting sun
dries the grass
than I
can water

Thursday, July 7, 2011

New 5 Line Poems (Gogyohka)

the sky wants to toss
the lonely half moon
like a boomerang
so I can catch it
and drop it into my tea

Is it my eyes
or did the moon
release its glaring halo--
push two stars
above its head?

lonely half moon
dabbed on navy blue
sleeps in the midst
of silence
and a tooty train

Thursday, June 23, 2011

More Gogyohka Poetry

smoke from fire
and southwestern dust
a wicked veil
and smothers my soul

orange sherbet
sun sinks
tucks its
creamy tail
into the horizon

lands on nearby branch
watches me
wind up
the garden hose

jumpy sparrow
turns and flitters
at every angle
on a
King Pine branch

blinding sun punctures
my pupils
at every blink

Sunday, June 19, 2011

Mystery Moon

coconut white
fingernail moon
rocks darkness
sneaks behind
a silent mist
becomes a buttery sliver
splinters back
to a crisp alabaster

More 5 Line Poetry

my porch light
waddle and flutter
on their backs

a Junebug
and wrecked itself
into my

sensored porch light
came back on
when I stomped
on a pesky

More New Gogyohka Poems (5 Lines, Micropoetry)

tangerine sun
the lemony haze

eggshell moon
its aura
the leaves

the aged
oval moon
rests its
drowsy head
on a licorice pillow

street lights
spread their halos
the onyx sky

cut back
are flourishing
with fresh
new leaves

Bird of Paradise
raises its
red and yellow flowers
to the scorching sun

slicky, oily grackle
lands clumsy
on the
rustic red
picket fence

the ashen sky
buttons up
the sleeping moon
and slips it
onto a dark sheet

backyard angel
lifts her head upward
more than before
she is happy
for my return

yellow moon
from high
blood pressure

a tanned
plays for tips
on the
tiled sidewalk

a stunning white horse
with snow white neck
ice-blue face
wears a
red and black harness

camera lens
on fuchsia flowers
the wind
sways them
out of focus

the wind
a child's
pencil drawing
of a butterfly

silver dollar
its head
on periwinkle sky

gnats fly crazy
around my head
along a path
surrounded by
healthy grass

an excited
robin runs
across the black top
with a wiggly worm
in its beak

clay pots
overflow with
red, yellow and purple

this morning
orange sun
on the

Last night
a soft banana
and cantaloupe haze
a marschino
setting sun

daisy white
Mexican Elder
flower clumps
in the wild wind

an energetic storm
ivory veins
and arteries
across blackness

at last
a loud crackling boom
raindrops tinkle on my roof
followed by
the great deluge

a margarine
crescent moon
into its tar black

cloud's edges
in shreds


humid staleness
the wind

it is time
to call
the rain dancers
and New Mexican
Kokopelli flute players

shaped as
Mozart's profile

a thunderous sky
jolts and stabs
the earth
with a big
white dagger  

Thursday, May 19, 2011

New Gogyohka Poems

on a
its tail

and bends my

black grackle
to water

wing tips

is a

feel the rush
on my bicycle
peddling fast
down a dirt road
turn and crash

a teacher
once said
the answer
all around you

I pluck

to the tune
of the

is like
a child

from his
side of
the fence

end of day
the weight
my feet

New Tanka Poems

Siamese cat wanders
Searches for holes through the fence
To make an entrance
Smells the earth, limbs, grass and weeds
Tip of its tail waves and guides

Bold weed grows through rocks
Thick arms tipped with white flowers
Unknown water source
Thrives on sunshine, wind and air
And words of condemnation

Dryness makes static
Comb dry fingers through my hair
Frankenstein frizzies
Branching out, electrified
Shocking personality

More Haiku Poems

Big Great Dane next door
Scared me with head above fence
My head about chomped

Young grackle can't fly
Mean grackle pecks at her head
Guardians strike back

Rosemary bush died
Last year, its purple flowers
attracted some bees

Sunday, May 15, 2011

More New Haiku Poems

Wild wind whips my hair
Tosses it into tangles
Wearing weird hairdo

Rocks surround plant bed
Sun droops morning glory leaves
Water perks them up

Sensor light turns on
Lift up blind to peek and wink
Hopping frog eats bugs

Hummingbird whizzes
Flies around the Hollyhocks
Suckles pink flowers

Mexican Elder
Long-handled lopper works good
Dead branches clipped off

Butterfly dances
Mexican Elder approves
Breezy air flutters

Nighttime is falling
Trees become dark shape shifters
Time to go in now

Saturday, May 14, 2011

New Haiku Poems

Mexican Elders
Growing like a wild fire
Birds hide, take refuge

Calico cat walks
Between the slats of my fence
Happy to see me

White dove on the line
Tail flips in jerky motion
Wet poo lands on grass

Finches, sparrows, doves
Happy hopping near sprinkler
Birds preening their wings

Spring is upon us
Water nourishes the earth
Hollyhocks growing

Oleanders froze
Careful cutting brings them back
New green stems emerge

Gray and white tabby
Prances out my front yard gate
Non-chalant and proud

Willow tree leaning
Forceful wind is the devil
Wood props hold it up

White plate for birdseed
Doves bully sparrows away
Sparrows watch for chance

Curious sparrow
Peeks in from my window sill
Sees me standing there

Telescope reveals
Deep crater on centerline
Half moon is half lit

Gray tabby cat hides
Half looks at me with one eye
Wanders on sidewalk

Fallen bird nest torn
Attaches to grass and weeds
Fine twigs are stuck there

Heat wave is coming
Horizon seeks time of day
Sunsets - pure beauty

Awesome turquoise sky
Bubblegum purple mountain
Color for my soul

Friday, November 26, 2010

Young Girl

Who is that girl
with crooked short bangs,
plastic sunglasses?
Her dress striped yellow,
blue, pink and white
with zig-zag trim.
Patten shoes on
pigeon-toed feet.

Is it the same girl
who believed she helped
in the front yard
at the house on Yandell
raking leaves
with a miniature rake?

Tell Me Why...

I must wait so long
for winter to twist into spring
spring to roll into summer
summer to transform into fall

Tell me why ...
my days speed faster than
a second hand rotates on a clock
their momentum intrudes on precious time
thrusts between seasons

Tell me why...
life is much more fragile
as years furl behind me
tasks take longer to finish
loved ones grow older

If I See This House for Real

The mystery of entering an unlocked front door
of a deserted, New England stone home
left me uneasy, intruding on spirits.

Closed doors—Should I open them?
What if one door led to a deep tunnel
full of ghosts or crazy people?
No, I would not open them.

I opened a door to one side of the house;
aged ivy plants covered a high wall.
The walkway needed maintaining.
For a moment, I thought it was safe.

In the back yard, stone sculptures and potted plants
cracked and stained by crusty bird droppings
surrounded by weeds, trees, and crevices.
I felt spirits lurking at me from there.

(from an old reoccurring dream)


We were lost on a detour
driving miles and miles
of desolate ranch land.

Trees in the distance,
one lonely dirt road.
Silence prevailed
except for our car's motor.
A mysterious ambiance.
A shiny object in a cloudless sky
flashed blinding tails
reflecting the sun--
followed us there.

It was a small town
in the middle of nowhere,
a tall, bulbous water tower,
a few homes half hidden
behind trees and white fences.
No children playing outside.
No human beings at all.
No cars parked anywhere.

The road curved to the right
as we approached the water tower.
The polished object hid behind it.
As we drove to the other side,
the object vanished.

Wednesday, October 27, 2010


I try to keep positive.
Worrisome thoughts intrude.
What if I drop tomorrow
in spite of other plans.

Hope for healing--
eliminate pain,
a plan for the house--
all new flooring,
give back what I can--
donate to a cause.

I don't want much
and loved ones
still there for me
when I need them.


Stiffness in my fingers
an arthritic knot in my left thumb
bone rubbing on bone
cramping, snapping, aching pain,
ouches and creaks.
Must rethink how I use
these worn extensions.

It hurts to unscrew lids
turn door knobs
pick up pots and pans
cut with scissors
write, type
tie my shoes
do laundry
water the yard
lift my purse
carry groceries
pull out keys
from my pant pockets
take out trash.

Must I do hand exercises
for the rest of my life?
Be a pill bag forever?
I don't enjoy growing old.

Dr. Baker says, "Don't say that,"
covering his mouth
shaking a finger at me --
"Those are bad words."

Weeping Willow

Dear petite weeping willow --
I have watched your frail, short strands
grow to long reaching branches.

You are more flexible and stronger
than the monstrous mulberry in front
that broke large branches
in the last ferocious storm.
Yet you survived, unbroken.

Your young leaves wave in the wind
long strands delicate and thin
skinny bark, half-wrapped and supported
to keep high winds from snapping you.
I shake my head and wonder
that you did not break and fall.

You are life - a resilient child
who sways with graceful bends
bouncing back, as youthful as
the active sparrow that jumps
around the delicate yellow
and pink petals on the small shrub
by the chain-linked fence.

I look forward to your cool shade
when you are more full-sized
I can see myself on a hot day
hiding inside your breezy house,
in a comfy white chair with a book.

Cucaracha Number Two

In my efficiency apartment
above a garage on Hadley,
I sit on a long bench eating dinner
at a white picnic table
in my narrow kitchen.

A large flying shadow
swoops across the white walls.
"Oh, it's just a moth."
I shrug it off without looking.
Moths are quiet.
This one is buzzing.
I look up and my calm heart
crashes into my ribs.

I shift into overdrive.
A red cucaracha,
longer than my palm
with extra long wings
flies around my kitchen --
a mad bug on drugs.
Quick, to the closet
to grab the broom.
I wrap my hands
around the stick end,
swing the straw end in the air
thrashing the nasty cucaracha
against the walls
shredding it into broken pieces.