Sunday, November 26, 2017

If I Cry

I thought…
If I cry….

If I would just cry
from the pit
of my aching heart,

pour out tears
for the pained hearts
who perpetrate violence,
who find injustice
and not cooperation
a way of life,
who cannot cry themselves
to relieve their hidden pain
and be healed.

If only I would cry,
I thought,
perhaps hearts
will be lightened
and minds will be enlightened
and peace will be born.

Perhaps I cannot change others,
but I can change myself.
My tears cleanse only me,
laving the channels
of spirit and blood
so love will flow,
chi will circulate,
and the quantum center
of my fragile humanity
will vibrate and radiate
and heal the space I walk through
and the souls upon whom
I espy.

And that is sometimes all I can do.
If I would just cry.

Sunday, November 5, 2017

Day of Rest

to the point of
for lack of peace
and quiet.

Radio yakking,
TV reacting,
traffic racking
my brain with
ratcheting noise.

no NPR,
no CNN,
close the doors,
secure the sashes,
draw the curtains,
find your home's sweet spot,
the quiet air,
stillness waiting ---
ready to wrap you
in its silent smile.

Now, rest awhile.

Saturday, November 4, 2017

"May I?"

I give her  a drag
on my cigarette.
She still loves the taste
after 80 yrs. of living,
bearing children,
raising 3 boys,
teaching us,
feeding us,
clothing us,
supporting us
as we stumbled into
our own lackluster lives.

Few words are shared;
her neurons,
once connected
to fulfill her daily tasks,
now disconnect one by one,
causing gaps in the memories,
not knowing what the fragments
mean anymore.
T.I.A.s are insidious events,
stealing away the
meaning of the familiar,
robbing you of the words
needed to share life,
erasing who you think you are,
making strangers of
your most intimate relations.

And it is only one way
of fading into oblivion,
as all we will.
So, say we all.
So, say we all.

Friday, November 3, 2017

Good Friend

Good friend,
good talks,
sharing space and air
and a cup of joe.

A memory of kindnesses,
gentle smiles
and meaningful words,
a shared faith
that wants to link arms
in a leisurely stroll
thru a sun-dappled park.

A shared faith,
a love for nature,
where orchids bloom
in sparkling hues;
another wonder shared,
a beauty revered.

Faithful service,
kind words,
a giving heart.

Thankful prayers,
good friend,
finally home.
Sink into its peace, and
God be with you
till we meet again.

R.I.P. T. LeFebre - 10.29.17

Tuesday, October 31, 2017

Tricks 'n Treats

Tricks 'n Treats!

A clamor I hear
as chilluns draw near,
transformed by disguises,
no one realizes
who they really are.

One night to startle,
to beg and to bartle
for treats or tricks benign.

Dressed in rags,
some like hags,
still others heroes
or nutsy Neros,
they make their way

Through the village
festooned with fallish goods,
pumpkins, ghosts and
webs galore.

Tis a night for
for ridding our dwellings
of Lokis and Kokopelis,
and by a witches' broom
sweeping out the stale,
bored spirits so
our winter's hibernation
will rest secure.

Throw some candy to the moon,
and if it doesn't return,
the spirits will protect you
another sun cycle
til the next Eve of Hallows
once more compels us
to scream:


Monday, October 30, 2017

Hallowed Night

Comes the strangely night
of pointed hats
and cheeseling rats,
of flootering bats
and singing cats.

Tis a night of the ghastly
and the ghostly,
but mostly holograms
 of mistly terrors.

Orangey, bulbous,
fearly faces
and glowly guts
greet the ghouly paraders
begging for sucrose
and rendered fat
that'll bloat the belly
and slow the mind,
so to pad the pockets
of druggy billionaires
that they may live
a blessed, healthy life.

O Hallowed Night,
moonlit and fogly,
invented to feign
the ghosts of a neighborly cosmos,
invites taunting
by those disturbed souls
too fearful to love,
petrified to become,
fettered by unforgiveness
and fooled by self-unknowing.

So they taunt
and disquiet the unthinking
and the unaware,
to block them from knocking
on the golden door,
denying many from
entering and tasting
the truth.

But then,
without darkness,
how can we know the Light?

So, scream loudly
this hallowed night,
unhinge the bones,
disconcert the spooks
and demons,
so to chill their innards
as they should scutter away
from us boldly incarnates,
and awed by
such self-assuredness,
perhaps, perhaps…
they just might
turn to the Light
and be saved.

Happy Halloween!

Sunday, October 29, 2017

The Fire Is Us

Enjoyed a WONderful dinner at ZZ & Joe's last night with our monthly UU dinner group. ZZ's email comment inspired this poem. Frog refers to a restaurant in Phila., from which came the delicious carrot cake recipe.

The Fire Is Us

A gathering of souls,
known each to the other
by face and voice and manner.
Sharing space,
sharing breaths,
savoring the fare
lovingly prepared
to nourish:
babaganush and brie,
mushroom barley soup,
pasta salad,
whole-grain breads
with lots of butter,
wine flowing,
water pouring,
a carrot cake designed
by Frog.

But first,
the darts did fly and crash,
flights exploding,
til ended the game
the host did win,
by ONE!

Sated, filled,
the dark descends,
and by the bon's flame
we sit and warm our
noses and toes.
Sparks like fireflies
filling the darkness,
exploding with light
and thrilling the heart,
children again, we are,
caught up in wonder and awe.

The fire - a reminder
that Life itself burns
with a Spirit Fire,
and that Fire is us.

Sunday, October 15, 2017

The Immigrant

I had a dream.

I traveled so far from home,
where sights and smells
had comforted my safety,
and gave me sweet memories
that fed sweet dreams,
and I could breathe
a deep sigh of contentment.

But here, now so far
from the familiar smells
and sounds
which comforted my safety,
I am torn,
a fish out of water,
gasping for the sunshine
which always warmed my bones
and gave me solace,
and a reason to smile.

New words,
new ideas,
new ways of being human,
a culture apart,
a language unthought,
a people not yet familiar,
but waiting for me
to become a part of the people
I at first feared.

I came here to live a better life.
I will not waste it.
I will adapt.
I will survive.
And I will contribute
to this wonderful nation
with my life
and with my progeny.

Monday, October 2, 2017

A Dream Full of Stars

This poem was inspired by a dear friend who shared with me a profound and lucid dream she had recently. With her permission:

A Dream Full of Stars

I dreamed a dream tonight:
Drawn along by
invisible hands,
flying thru billions
of stars of lucid colors,
brighter than bright,
against the blackest of blacks,
my spirit soars.
I am fed by angels
as I continue my journey home
after years of earthly gain,
never alone.

Letting go of organic form,
remembering slowly
the truth of who I am,
giving thanks and
received by loving hearts
glowing with joy,
how can I not accept
God's gift of love?

Love alone draws me,
Love alone consoles me,
Love alone heals me,
Love alone invites me
and fills me once more
with all that is,
with all that is, my Love,
 with ALL that is.

I shall rest for only a spell
and return to make a difference
in a world of broken hearts,
of minds dulled by karma and untruths,
but of such beauty and wonder,
how can I not respond to the call?

Though I do not know the hour,
I know the journey will be guided
and lighted by Love,
by Love, Who Is.

No more pain,
no handicaps,
no more confusion,
no more confession,
no derision,
no judging,
no more guessing.
I will be Home.

There is only Love,
only Love, Who Is.
I will be Home.

I know this,
for I was told
in a dream full of stars.
I will be Home.

Sunday, October 1, 2017

Happy Birthday!

Happy Day 1 of a
Happy Month of
my Happy Birthday!

So much to thank for,
I can't ask for more.
God provides,
and my soul confides
in the blessings that surround me,
like a butterfly cloud
of deep blue and gold.
I have done little
to warrant such blessings,
but daily I am confessing
my gratitude.

Deo gratias,
Deus meus et omnia.

Day 1

Saturday, September 30, 2017

Never alone

I had my '04 Forester serviced Friday  oil change. They were renovating the dealership, so I went to the Firefly Cafe in Kernstown - lovely place.

Waiting for Suby,
sitting in Firefly,
lunch crowd thinning,
passing the time,
lonely forms
at lonely tables,
listening to the top 40…
haven't since…..
Savoring a cappuccino,
waiting for Suby's
therapist to call
(getting fluids renewed),
passing the time,
could be home,
passing the time,
a lone form
in a lone chair,
though never alone.
These molecules
which touch me,
which I touch today
once kissed an Asian wet nurse,
a Capuchin friar,
a Cistercian nun,
Buddha's ass,
a monkey's filthy paw.
I am Jesus.
You are, too.

I am contrived of atoms
that once formed the shit
of dinosaurs,
of spermatozoa swimming vaginal canals
dying before reaching a goal only God knew existed.

Constant transformation,
eternal flux is this world,
morphing continually
into a future only God
can dream of.

All is as it should be.
Oh, please,
Fuck ethics.

Day 30

Friday, September 29, 2017

'Tis Autumn

Trailing vines of
yellow-orange orbs,
a field of future jack-o-lanterns
and pumpkin pies,
spiced just right
to tempt the nostril
and please the tongue.

'Tis Autumn,
the Fall of the year,
harvest time,
canning time,
apple butter
and corn teepees,
cool turning cold,
frosted vines,
piles of tree hair
blown about by crisp winds.

'Tis Autumn,
Nature's time to rest.
And we should do the same!

Day 29

Thursday, September 28, 2017


Scurries the auburn,
many-footed furball
seeking a safe nest,
lest winter's angry breath
crushes its life,
sucking out its portion of chi.

Humans wrap and cover,
animals hibernate,
insects hide in places unseen,
'til Spring's longer rays
wake them,
warm them into
a newer season of Life.

Cooler breezes,
duller greens,
brighter hues of
fire and sun,
showering leaves of gold
and loamy browns
whisper to all:
"Make ready your rest,
guard your slumber,
and may it be a gentle night."

Day 28

Wednesday, September 27, 2017

New Shoes

Late September morn,
More like August haze
Clear sky and pulsing star
Beating heat upon my brow.
A good walk, 
A soothing pedi,
Waiting for Suby's new shoes.

Day 27

Tuesday, September 26, 2017

Be Watchful

What a wonderful world!
Full of beauty and inspiration
in art, science, music,
rife with invention.

Yet the biggest egos
yell the loudest
causing the rifts
and cultural shifts,
shock the heart
and numb the mind,
staining the day
with splatters of gray.

What will come?
What will come?

The games they play
for egos sated,
drag the rest of us
into the fray, weighted
with fright.

Lost lives,
wonders never invented,
poems never written,
songs never heard,
culture is smitten
with stupid hate games.

What will come?
What will come?

Be attentive, my friend.
Be attentive!

Day 26

Monday, September 25, 2017


Slowly creeping dark,
deepening the night
as chi of plant and vine
conserves and regresses,
leafing the mount
with rainbow hues
that whisper "Rest," and warn us
of our own need to retreat
and recoup from the
summer's jaunts.

One day a week,
one season a year
given time to reflect,
to refuel, to replenish,
to reinvent oneself
and step forward
renewed, revived,
refreshed, improved,
to venture madly into
a new Moon's Day
or another Spring.

Day 25