Saturday, November 30, 2013

On Justice: a haiku


for David Camm
 
Accused murder
proves innocence after 3
trials and 13 years.

Friday, November 29, 2013

Reward



Itchy anorexic in recovery
plans a yummy, food-filled day.
Reward for body beating
latest allergy incarnation.

Thursday, November 28, 2013

Thankful, شاكر, معبر عن شكر, سعيد,dankbaar


Gratitude to the Babylon 10 computer program

Workers
Bosses
Customers
Learners
Educators
Mentors

Ancient ones
The Next Generation
Non-humans who grace our lives

                                                Artist
                                                Dreamers
                                                Doers

Public officials doing public good
Freedom fighters- 
past, present, and future

Wednesday, November 27, 2013

Starts.. Becomes... Continues

inspired by this
 
The artist's painting on the side of a building
leads to the click of a photographer's camera;
writer, upon viewing, creates names, back story, universe.

Tuesday, November 26, 2013

Truer Words



Poem inspired by a quote from Dawne Kirkwood in her family’s episode of "Extreme Makeover: Home Edition"

Every time we gather, march
demand, fight back, enforce
refuse.

We become part
of the sea of humanity
rising together.

Monday, November 25, 2013

Allergy Poem #2



Flush… flush… flush
Water purge has allergen in retreat,
even if it renders me bed bound today.

After a hours, I have returned
to my world of words
ending my hiatus
in annoying world of perpetual scratching,
although a few scarlet welts still stubbornly
occupy beige skin.

Write.. read.. chew…
 watch.. wash rash…
Repeat.


Sunday, November 24, 2013

Allergy Poem



I
Thoroughly annoyed at
Continuation of
Hives.

Saturday, November 23, 2013

Returned



for Richard, my beloved campanion animal
 
I spy your yellow eyes
running like a miniature puma across our porch
in the cold sunlight of a November New England winter.

My assistant is too slow
to stop your feline feet
from running away again.

I place a bowl of your food
outside, turning on an extra indoor light
so your catty sneakiness doesn’t
sneak past me.

But once again,
you eat, run,  escape assistant.

I sigh,
thinking I’m destined to spend
another night with you out of doors.

Less than an hour later,
you appear at slider
and respond to calls
of  “Come in.”

Personally,
I think you smelled the first snow
coming on the air
and opted for safety of temperature controlled house.

But I am too overjoyed
at your return
to feel slighted.