Friday, December 9, 2016

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












Tuesday, November 15, 2016

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.

Thursday, May 19, 2016

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?

Wednesday, April 13, 2016

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

Friday, April 8, 2016

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.

Tuesday, April 5, 2016

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

Thursday, March 3, 2016

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