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All creatures black and purple

I don’t like Mother’s Day. As a single female with no kids, it’s the one day of the year I’m reminded, well, of that. Publicly. In the church where I used to go, they’d have a big celebration for Mothers. And give them a single red rose, or carnation. Guess who didn’t get one? Well that is, until finally someone in the church, probably somebody like me, said “hey! This sucks.” And I started being included. But I still didn’t really belong to the club. It’s an odd world for a single woman with no kids. Other people have to find things to ask you about since they can’t ask the normal things. How are your kids? Husband? House remodeling? All the things women love to talk, or complain-brag about, are off the table. So you have to give them things to talk about: an alternate identity as it were. “I’m a traveler. A scuba diver. A photographer. A violinist.” Whatever it is, you have to give them something to ease their plain discomf...
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I love...?

I really, really love you. You make me feel like a million dollars. Like the sun couldn't come up in the morning If it weren't for me. You tell me I'm beautiful, And your eyes light up. If I can't make the sun come up, At least I can make your eyes shine. When I'm around you, I feel confident Like I can change my world. I feel like what I do is really important Even if it is nothing. I could sit and watch TV all day And still be special. And then you're gone. I don't have the power anymore To make the sun come up in your eyes. My world begins to change me. And when I watch TV all day long I am now lazy. Someday, I'll realize It's not you who gives me the power To make the sun come up in your eyes. It's not you who gives me light to shed On a tired world. It's not you who makes me worthy to live It's me. Somehow when I love you I open up ...

Ode to a great lady

Dr. Rittenhouse, You took us around the world and back, Elegant in black. From Carnegie to Jerash, From Red Square, to the local parish We sparkled under your bow-baton, The excitement on. Fumbling for music while you talked And the audience gawked. We sawed on fiddles, blew on horns, Stood for encores. With scandalous attire we shocked (Boys wore dresses. French Horns, red socks.) You bought us ice-cream cones, And Scottish Scones. Making sure we had fun, 30 concerts done. Days and nights, travel-filled, Full of Gondolas & Eiffel Tower thrills. Making us be our best, and show zest After bus-all-night rest. (“Look, there’s a lion!” in Kruger Park. “Zzzzz.”) Instruments missing, passports mailed, The show must go on! It never failed. Excellence was the demand Crowd-pleasing was your brand. What our lives would have been ...

Trust

a fire rages hot at my back but I cannot jump below me stretches a safety net offering reprieve sexy firemen hold it yelling jump jump but I turn away back to the fire with which I am familiar wondering if I can stay a little while longer  if it will go out on its own so I don't have to feel my fear of falling to the ground December 2008

Birkenau

Red shoes Worn on the heel From walking many miles Who knows where My only link To her. I don't know her name I never will. But her shoes To this day Touch my soul. They're in a pile Of other shoes Stacked high Behind glass. Shoes of people Who are dead and gone. A memorial to hatred. The pile of shoes Sits across the room From a pile of eye glasses And luggage And rugs Made from human hair. Yet oddly It's the shoes That are alive. They bear h...

Hidden dimensions

it would be easy to say i love you if i knew what i was loving but i don't. you have parts that are so elusive that i'd like for you to show me but you won't. you say, why does it even matter you should love me for what you can see but i can't. it's those hidden things i can't see that might make all the difference to my heart. - October 2002

Feelings

please tell me these feelings will end the nameless ones with no face the terror with no name, the memories hidden in dreams. each day they're getting less losing weight not getting fed by my choice. but still they persist made a habit by past munchings on the tidbits i threw them by accident. as they waste away i make new creations in my head to replace them. ones with no relations who will not check my past feelings to make sure they're ok. new feelings with the stability to stand on their own two feet though young and new. let them die. death to the traitors who took away my life. i will make new ones to rise again a resurrection of the just. --March 27, 2002