Category Archives: Poetry

#Blogtoberfest Day 20: Feeling Like Myself (#poem)

I’m feeling like myself again
Getting in touch with an old friend
One who changed the world around her
One who knew when to stand and when to demur

I’m driving my red Impala girl
1963 in a 70s gas-conserving world
Do I trade it for another
Politically-correct more practical model?

I’m feeling like myself again
Learning new things about who I am
Not just a writer but a poet
My musical ear so strong, I just didn’t know it

We learn about ourselves living life every day
But some things we can only know by knowing our family
Adoption, divorce, embryos, single mothers, and step fathers
Deprive us of a piece of ourselves that really matters

I’m feeling more like myself today

#Blogtoberfest Day 19: Things I Will Miss

I will miss the morning sunlight peeking through the trees,
soaring birds chirping their morning wakefulness,
squawking gulls flapping their wings,
treading shore birds scanning the pond for breakfast.

I will miss sipping my coffee on the lanai greeting the dawn with prayer,
scribbling my early thoughts,
clearing my mind of nighttime fears,
making room for gratitude and thankfulness.

I will miss cocktails and apps overlooking the springs at the BoatHouse,
strolling World Showcase,
martinis in the Wilderness,
dipping my toes in the ocean.

I will miss our dream kitchen,
white cabinets and quartz countertops,
undermount lights with a view
of morning walkers and evening golf carts.

But most of all I will miss
the last house where Skipper lived.

 

 

#Blogtoberfest Day 17: Living in the Moment (#poem)

When I was a child, I knew how to live in the moment
No bills to pay, no past to replay
Anticipating the next adventure
Beach, park, or reading all day
Alone or joint venture

When I was a child, I had no worries to bother with
Maybe a few, such as dishes or dusting to do
Begging them off while watching Disneyland fireworks go off
Dreaming of becoming ‘big, rich and famous,” didn’t you, too?
Confiding in that one friend who wouldn’t scoff

When I was a child, I dreamed of the future
A wife, a mother, even a movie star
Ironing and watching Password or the Fugitive like mother
And don’t forget “My Mother the Car”
After playing outside with my friends or my brother

Today I vow to live in the moment
No worries, no past, just the next step on the way
Anticipating the moment’s adventure
Beach, park, or reading all day
Writing without censure

#Blogtoberfest Day 15: A Phenomenal Woman (#poem)

I read “Phenomenal Woman” in Maya Angelou’s Poems, and I’d like to quote it here. I hope that’s allowed as long as I give credit with a link to the book. Anyway, she’s such a brilliant poet, and I have much to learn from her writing.

I totally relate to this poem because I’ve often said it’s not so much about how pretty or skinny or young you are – it’s your attitude and the confidence you display that gets attention from both men and women.

Except for the “chick lit” era when I had my “Chicks Over 40” blog, I often feel invisible online. I feel far more appreciated in person walking down the street among total strangers.

Phenomenal Woman (a poem) by Maya Angelou

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I’m not cute or built to suit a fashion model’s size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I’m telling lies.
I say,
It’s in the reach of my arms,
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

I walk into a room
just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It’s the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can’t touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can’t see.
I say,
It’s sin the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

Now you understand
just why my head’s not bowed.
I don’t shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It’s in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
The palm of my hand,
The need for my care.
“Cause I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

#Blogtoberfest Day 14: Crossing the Rainbow Bridge (#poem)

My heart is in tatters like a kitten loved robe
Offered up so generously out of deepest love
Those mornings sipping coffee I held you on my chest
You cling to me so tightly snoring during your morning rest

How can you be gone after 17 years
My eyes are dry now with frozen tears
But what is really unfathomable is losing even more
The love of your life and my 18-year-old little boy

Two weeks later I had to say goodbye
To the man who was my father – was I the apple of his eye?
We’d had so little time together and others had kept us apart
I think I know what he meant when he said “The Dodgers will break your heart”

And so I dedicate this poem to those I have loved
To those who have gone before me in Heaven above
I like to picture you glamping in a trailer with a well-stocked fridge
Surrounded by your favorite things, crossing that rainbow bridge

#Blogtoberfest Day 13: In My Dream (#poem)

In my dream I saw you smiling
You hadn’t smiled in so long
In my dream I heard you laughing
And then I knew I’d been so wrong

The years had passed and I barely knew who exactly you were
The pain inside, the nights you cried were hidden so well
Then he came along and touched your face and I was so mad for taking his place
From the window of your little beach house I saw everything in the mirror

The troubles we’d had around the fake dad were no more
Could it be I could now see they started when I was just a baby
Writing that letter to my father might have been harder than I knew
You hated yourself more than ever and we took the fall instead of you

In my dream I saw you smiling
You hadn’t smiled in so long
In my dream I heard you laughing
And then I knew I’d been so wrong

#Blogtoberfest Day 11: Poetry-Inspired Lyrics

The Flame, Leonard Cohen’s last book of poetry (and more), arrives on Friday. I can’t wait to read it, especially after reading some of the poems in the sample. I got the hard cover because some books should be read in print.

I love that his songs started out as poems. My first song submitted for professional feedback to a NY Broadway composer started out as a poem and he led me down the path to making it a song.

In Nashville, “writing to title” co-write sessions are scheduled – they have nothing to do with poetry but the good news is everybody in the room gets songwriter credit. (Two NSAI mentors loved one of my “hooks” but somehow my story wasn’t the usual Nashville story and it didn’t go anywhere).

In Confessions of a Serial Songwriter by Shelly Peiken, she laments today’s songwriter in L.A. being relegated to “topliner” – the person who is called in to write the melody or lyric or maybe just a hook or phrase. The “producer” provides the “backing track” and gets 50% of writing credit and the rest is divvied up according to some sort of formula.

But you know what? This is what you get when a society decides that humans can be created the same way – sperm donor meets egg donor meets surrogate and somehow the couple who purchases all of this genetic material becomes the “parents” and a “family” is created.

I don’t see much difference in creating a human and in creating a song today. Very sad with many consequences with this type of thinking. But that’s the world people have shouted into being. At least for now. I pray that people will come to their senses some day.

Who Am I? (#poem) National Poetry Day

I read on Twitter that today is National Poetry Day so I decided to finish this poem I started last month.

Who Am I?

Who am I supposed to be in this land of make believe play?
Wearing a mask I did not make but just another’s overlay
Searching for truth amidst the lies
Sifting through sand and my favorite disguise

Holding on for dear life with fears I can’t shake
Holding back in safety keeping the distance of arm’s length
What we want, what we need, and what we fear most
Reflections in the mirror of a lost soul’s ghost

Assignations with people who do not exist
Adventures not taken are what I have missed
Poems are friends where I come alive
Seeking connection with those with like minds

Circling the Past (#poem)

I’m circling the past tonight
Trying it on for good size
When is it time to go home
And when does it feel all wrong?

Comparing one place that used to fit
To another place I once lived
Who is more like me I think I can see
I must stick to what I truly believe

I left for a reason but is it still true?
Or am I longing for, am I chasing my youth?
I’ve taken turns changing becoming who I need to be
Will it squeeze me, twist me, steal my need to be free?

Fearing to lose all that I gained
To go back now would I feel ashamed?
The lure is powerful, opportunities abound
To where I was once lost but then I was found

Do I dare risk it all for one last hurrah?
Can I stick to my path, resist the siren call?
So many questions in the dark of the night
All will be answered in the broad daylight

The House in the Desert (#poem)

The house in the desert calls to me tonight
We were all together and everything was right
Skipper and Buddy and Lovey, those three I will never forget
Now sit in the closet in a house in the tropics run by the newest pets

Nine years it was a place of comfort and memories
The last of the sun dipping below the mountain of treasures
Its time had passed but looking back I see the truth
The longing of middle-age holding onto its youth

What is next I wonder by night and by day
Will we return or stay away
But fear not little children of my heart
Nothing will ever keep us apart