He was gonna take
The red ribbon from your hair
The blue ribbon from your heart
He looked himself straight in the whites of his own eyes
And decided he could
Should
For hadn’t he worked hard
Hadn’t some sacred text, garbled
Some silence, repeated
Ruled him worthy
Ruled you less than
Describe one habit that brings you joy.
All the -ings I know to do that help others is where I find my joy (and exhaustion, too).
lifting I, une Fleur
wandering, tall-towering
growing, gardening
If you won two free plane tickets, where would you go?
I’m not sure >where< I’d go, were I to win two free plane tickets, but I’d damn sure go.
What God has gifted, humans cannot steal or tear down, try as they do….
This is your offering
The best of things!
Yes — I expect it of you
Walking in motherlands
This never ends
Neighborhoods both old and new
Eyes up and chin up
One foot, then next
Always that strength of sinew
Breathiest lungs
Dancing neurons
Child, this, your legacy, too
Sit
Stay
Fight out a battle no one ever wins
Lose young years you’ll not get back
Give
Grovel
Hope the other’s heart will hear
Find months of lessons learned
Be
Banter
Bargain — if you must — but make joy
Allow these precious days
Which activities make you lose track of time?
I lose track of time thinking about bookstores and lexicographer hearts and road-trips from Colorado.
Ev’ry word from you
Stayed away and stayed away
As if I’d no need
What bothers you and why?
Unkindness is always bothersome, even to the unkind one, I think.
When your soft
Your striving and your stumbling and falling, but not failing
Meets the jagged, sharp, and stinking
The clash!
The asking why
The dark and many trumpets seem cued for some inevitable
Yet, you walk…again
Knowing why
Staggered breathing
Alive
Eyeballs, shell-shocked, know to look to the light
Still compass-marked to truth
If you could host a dinner and anyone you invite was sure to come, who would you invite?
I only care for working dinners — principled matters that need handling are discussed…time and timing is of the essence. My invitee list would be broad and mighty.
Handsomest people
They talk while walking forward
They’ve their sleeves rolled-up
What do you think gets better with age?
I believe one’s own discernment gets better with age. But, damn, if not….
Watch what strain of grief springs forth
As you realize
You loved some soul, conjured up
Sanity capsized
Of their mountain air you breathed
Certain they were there
Conversations, planning life
With their spirit’s flare
Love was lightning, checkered flags,
Continental crash!
Now their absence, now your heart
Cratered…edged in ash
What are your daily habits?
My daily habits are not limited to stargazing alone….
(Funky photograph on purpose….)
“Planetary Beings: Our Haiku”
Oh, curious one!
Terroir, continents unknown,
So, let’s go to Earth
What’s the most delicious thing you’ve ever eaten?
The most delicious thing I’ve ever eaten is the toil of my ancestors:
She was a product of two hopeful and maybe desperate Greek immigrants who looked toward the lamp lifted beside a golden door and said, “…yes, please help.” Her last words on Earth to me were, “…help people” — as her reminder to me to do so. My grandma walked through fire, as did her parents before her, and I and my maternal family members are the products of that whole painful yet purifying, beautifying process. We all have her New York City heart and determination as well as her Greek-American intellect and empathy for others. Who of your ancestors have appeared as refined as gold to you?
“Lifted: Our Haiku”
You have walked through fire
And yet, emerged not consumed
I see your lustre
Photo Credit: Lisa Mae, FieryPhotography.com; and, unknown antique photographer
LisaRosier.com 