ODE To Standing Rock, December 4, 2016

Rights to Water

The emphasis of life

What’s ours is yours

But not if you poison us

A nation of natives

Joined by a tribe of

Socially Conscientious Citizens

Guarding an indigenous people

Veterans gather from as

faraway as Hawaii

Water Rights Matter

Not just for the Sioux

A time of enough is enough

We want peace

We want a resolution

To protect our children’s children’s children

We sleep in peace tonight

Our collective voices have been Heard

Bubble Philosophy

The bursting of a bubble produces fusion
heating up the bubble of life.
Heat and fire to purify life.
What's on the second page?
Do the bubbles pass on in the wind
to create a small explosion?
A spark
A light
A blink and it's gone.
Smiles, laughter resulting in bursts of energy
to transform everyday existence.
What do we have left? Does
anyone know? Does the sun really
move around the earth? It may seem
so. The earth stands still.
Moons conspire to fulfill the
nothingness of space and sparks of
light. Do you believe in the Man in the
Moon?
Tangible or not
Sighted or not
The bubble bursts
Releasing energy of surprise to warm our
Eyes.

Kevin's Poem

As a kid

Come Fall
I ran down the street
crunching leaves
stomping like hopscotch
rushing to meet up with
wind blown scarlet petals

Come Spring
No leaves to chase
But look
There are snails
Caught in the middle of the sidewalk
in the path of a naughty kid,
usually the younger brother

No!
Don't stomp!
You'll get bad luck

Devious as he was
Left behind
Slush and a crushed shell

The snail is a small and gentle soul
Humble and lowly to the ground
Marking a path of fortitude
From edge to edge of the grass
Remnants left behind from its purposeful way
Aiming for no where
But carrying forth

Be gentle to the snail
They have another purpose
Snails
Escargot
What are they doing on my plate?

Comfort

A found penny is a source of comfort

Like a rainbow after a bitter storm

Green grass between my toes

Presses warmth against my heart

To know you are here again.

Stay by my side

Hold my hand

Feel your body next to mine

Butterfly Kaleidoscope

A kaleidoscope, a rabble, a swarm, or a flutter of butterflies fills the world with myriad images in nature, as well as, art. Long a symbol of transformation and hope, in some myths the tender creature is the symbol or personification of the soul. Further, for Dr. Elizabeth Kubler-Ross the butterfly became the imagery she used to explain the process of death and dying.

When I was a young mother of a newborn, I took a college course on death and dying learning the five stages of grief. The class was assigned a project of what death meant for us. Many shared their stories of death and their cultural traditions when a loved one died. In my early 20’s, I had had little experience with death and felt I had nothing to contribute. I thought about my baby and my fear that she would stop breathing in her crib—sudden infant death syndrome (SIDS). My life had forever changed with my unplanned pregnancy and it wasn’t unusual that I would fear her loss when I wasn’t sure I had wanted a baby in the first place. This fear of SIDS is what I offered my classmates.

I went on to finish college as a single mom with three kids in tow, literally. They followed me to nearly all my classes. This is when I became interested in the subject of children and war in the arts. When I needed a poem on that subject, my professor sent me looking for the book I Never Saw Another Butterfly. In it were the poems and artwork of the children from the Terezinstadt Concentration Camp during WWII. As a symbol of hope the butterfly buoyed the spirits of the children that their souls would be transformed after their death.

Fast forwarding to my daughter’s college years, when she arrived at the airport blown home from “Katrina”, she said, “Mommy your refugee is home.” When she returned to New Orleans five months after the hurricane, she witnessed the transformation of the city’s rebuilding from the natural disaster. Later, one day in Spring she told me she saw a butterfly for the first time since returning to the devastated city. That meant the world to me, because I had been hand sewing her a quilt with a butterfly design. Hope and rebuilding transformed in the images of nature, art and soul.

Korean Sun

Korean Sun

Ball of fire

Fading in the sky

Don’t look

Don’t be mesmerized

Protect your eyes

Close your eyes

Soak in the rays

a quiet passing

one day to the next

Necessity

hanging in the balance

of a Korean Winter's Day

Juggling Sand

Another day 

Trying tears and tantrums

Little noses to wipe

Refusing the sandwich requested

Antagonizing sister to sister

one has fun, the other screaming displeasure

“I want water”

“What about me?”

Baby crying from the crib

needs love too!

Little noses to wipe again

Forget about the potty training

“Mama, mama, mama!”

Patience dear one

Now where are the keys?

Put on your boots, time to go

Forgot the treats at home

Another day

Juggling sand

Chica’s Poem

A hard day’s work

A heavy burden

A time of distress

More stress upon

More stress

More stress begets

more stress

What will be enough

What will be enough to quell the pain

What will be enough to make a difference

Drugs 

Alcohol

Poor decisions

Sad decisions

To anesthetize the pain 

To self medicate

To feel alive

I am everyone to everybody

Mother

Father

Sister

Brother 

Tia

Tio

Chica

Sobrino

When do I come first

Second best unfulfilled

First comes love

Love of self

Self control

Control of one’s life

Life renewed

I am whole again