Powder Blue and White

20 Apr

The house on the hill
gets a new coat of paint
while the widow within
grows dandelions.


The Fentil Gwifford

18 Apr

As silence filled the winkled night
A fentil beast arose in flight.
Gojolling up, the gwifford weeched,
and sporanooned above a spleecht.
All canticored, the spleecht arose,
The warthing gwifford to oppose.
A swift kertwang tore loose one spling,
Disabling the gwifford’s wing.
Without that spling he fleeled in flight,
Careening through the winkled night.
The spleecht kuleened, the gwifford fell.
The eerie sounds bespoke of Hell.
Across the tornid land arose
An answering cacophened trose.
All hastored round the fallen beast
And wistercorned the honored spleecht.
In future years the torngs will speak
Of one predanored, cupris night
When a fentil beast was slain in flight.

A Poem’s a Path

9 Apr

The poems I read are a heart path
To beauty, or love, or, perhaps, wrath.
Their words trace a path to my heart.
I never refuse invitations
To savor a poet’s creations;
I humbly honor their art.
We open our souls to opinions,
Revealing our thoughts to the minions,
Receiving a hug … or a dart?


8 Apr

Plantaré un beso
A tus hermosos labios
Para calmarte.
No puedes agitarte
Si dejo mi
Episodio de telenovela,
Y, volviéndose hacia tu,
Con toda mi atención,
Con amor en mis ojos,
Con súplica en mis manos,
Y te daré
Tanta verdadera admiración
Que no puedes
Tener ni un poquito
De la tristeza,
Mi amor.




7 Apr

Effervescent giggles
About someone’s death?
I can’t find compassion,
Only elation.
How could I have known that,
Forty years after our divorce,
I still didn’t feel safe.
RIP Peter,
May you do better in your next life.

Eight Poems of Love: #7 ( Poem translated from Spanish by knowledge and guesswork)

1 May


Inclined in the afternoon, I throw my sadness to your eyes that hold the oceans.
There my ardor stirs in the greatest solitude, where my arms fly like a falcon’s.
I make red signals over your absent eyes that flow like the waves of the ocean
Alone you guard the darkness, deep and distant and mine, from your vision at times emerges a great expanse.
Inclined in the afternoon, I throw my sadness to your eyes that hold the oceans.
The night birds peck the first stars that glow like my soul when I love you.
The night gallops in a dark shadow, draping blue visages across the earth.
Pablo Neruda
(Questionalby translated by Carol McMillan) 

Old Bits and Thoughts (A poem of remembering)

29 Apr


I remember Billy Searles jumping up to kiss me on the cheek

Because I was so much taller than he was.

It was out on the playground.

It was my first kiss; full of embarrassed pleasure.


I remember hating family drives every Sunday in Connecticut.


I remember visiting Disneyland right after it opened;

It was Christmas. There was a magical swan carriage

Full of Dickensian-dressed carolers.


I remember swimming in Waikiki with a smashed finger

That I had to hold

Up over my head

Out of the turquoise water.


I remember Harriet Hohmeyer and I

In the woods between our houses

Taking turns jumping off the weathered teeter-totter to

Send the other one crashing down.


I remember that my sister bit her nails down to the quick;

Everyone said she was nervous.


I remember dragging unbelievably prehistoric-looking horseshoe crabs

Out of the water on Jones Beach, then letting them go back.

I remember Pooty hiding under my parent’s bed and

My dad using the curved handle of his umbrella to

Drag him out by his collar.

I remember wishing that Roy Rogers and Dale Evans were my parents.


I remember pedal-pushers and poodle skirts and white bucks

And pin curls and saddle shoes and black flats.

I remember holding hands with Steve “Lyle-style”.

I remember happy, prickly butterflies inside me.

I remember the smell of Steve’s white shirt when we

Slow-danced to Johnny Mathis downstairs in the rec room after

Everyone else was asleep.


I remember my mother yelling at Jean when

She scorched her expensive green and white wool

Miramonte High School pep skirt,

And I remember that, even though I was the young one

Who was in trouble way more often, I said,

“Mommy, she didn’t mean to do it.”


I remember licking red candied apples till the crust was

Thin enough that I could crunch through it

For a cinnamon-sweet bite of apple.

My sister ate cotton candy, which I thought

Was yucky.


I remember watching my sister disappear into the fog, walking

Down Tacoma Avenue on her way to

Thousand Oaks Elementary School.

I remember asking my mother how soon I could go to school.

“When you are five.”

I remember thinking I was three and so

It would be infinity

Before I got to go with her.

April 29, 2016