Domestic Violet

Dust on the bottle . . .

 

. . . stairs creak

search the cellar

cobweb mind

repeats

the older the grape

the sweeter the wine

’92 was a very good year   (for the California vines)

dust covered label

illegible now

peering with half-lit worn out eyes

pucker-up the laugh lines to

blow the dust away

poof

like life

gone

without a trace

so what’s the harm in

wearing purple

spitting in the street

or dressing like Dorothy in Oz for Halloween

when you’re a dusty container

of sweet old grapes . . .

Domestic Violet

Semper Vi ~

Survivor . . . from the VORTEX

 

After tomato soup . . .

. . . white works

when knotty pine is halfway up

new walls

white

perched atop earth like clouds and winter snow

after

tomato soup

aubergine and juices of lemon and lime

gold leaf defined         

some edges

so many years climbing bending stretching playing

painting ceiling nook and cranny

never planning to

go

apple and forest green kitchen terra cotta trim

almost forgotten

white works to light and wipe out

past presence presently

fresh air blank canvas clean slate

perfect backdrop new pure color creations and

old art

Dance in Town and The Casbah Gate . . .

Domestic Violet

Semper Vi ~

Survivor . . . from the VORTEX

 

 

 

Oh Great Opaque . . .

 

. . . drunk driving past your

vast cathedral spires

giggling at your rumors

nuns with wicked rulers

smacked the knuckles of my

neighbors

dressed in parochial skirts and shirts

off to catechism and genuflecting all the way

rosary sway hypnotic shield

religious cataract revealed

deluge of prejudice

Oh great downpouring guilt and shame

straight to hell

anyway

impending doom drowned at the waterfall edge

by some guy with a farm named Boone

no rescue in a public school bell

blinded by the ugliest tree in the

forest

catapult the baby too

gone with sinless soapy water

Oh great opacity

all the while smiled

shriveled and dried

like a Calcutta beggar

thirsty for

spiritual surgery

relief from the twisted view  

tortured

malabsorbed

starved out even Ego and Id

until nothing remained but

corpuscles and shrunken muscles

whiskey poured down dying lips 

“only one good book will save you from

being cooked”

cried the southern Men

HOLY SHIT!

OH Great Universal astonishing forgiven fire

saved without dogma or scalpel

by the slightly shifted

lens  . . .

Domestic Violet 

Semper Vi ~

Survivor . . . from the VORTEX 

 

 

 

 

 

Flame . . .

  

Bombs drop truth moves

I am an ocean with legs

In a jar

With the top screwed down tight

Flame

My name

Branches burn blue

Sand in my eyes

Change my veins

Burn money too

Long inner calm

Against shattering ruse

Branches blaze a true sky psalm

I am a flaming ocean

A leopard

With stripes

On the loose . . .

Domestic Violet

Semper Vi ~

Survivor . . . from the VORTEX

 

 

 

 

 

The Inevitable

  

A one-eyed bandit steals my sleep

Without a sound and not a peep

Peering through the window lace 

Rousing me from dreaming deep

 

The thief shines light ‘round the place

Illuminating every space

With piercing rays a startle brings

My dream is gone without a trace

 

A robber wearing angel wings

Apparition lightning rings

Fillet my eyes gone to night

Slicing slumber’s peace to strings

 

A blaze assaults my bleary sight

Pushes me to dreamy flight

Turning from trespass glare

Fearless pillow blankets bright

 

Surrendered snuggle without care

Caught in the bandit’s snare

Praying for sleep my soul to keep   

Alarm sounds ‘beep’    I  only stare …  

 

Domestic Violet 

Semper Vi ~

Survivor . . . from the VORTEX

    

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Back then . . .

. . . in the warm    

numb

fuzzy

complacency

I lost me

to rote

and found

rousted out

from comfort

and its zone

 a ruler named Auto-Pilot

toppled from a throne

and every move made

sans thought

would need attention and

reflection

becoming thought

thought about

and to sign

seal and

deliver

a return to me

I returned to see what I forgot

in the fog of

familiarity

with pain of change

wrapped all over

tape and boxes

healing broken knuckles and

reverie

she seemed a friend to me as

I walk the rooms

once mine

upon a time

and see her flair not there

with my walls of aubergine

tomato soup and

celery juice

but

would I have caught her when she fell or

moved into her

creation

too?

Domestic Violet

Semper Vi ~

Survivor . . . from the VORTEX

 

As the crow flies . . .

behind my eyes

behind my

head

and circles my heart

a trusted friend

who comes again

and flies off

high wide and

far

but never

goes

forever

returning

with the news

caw caaaw you get to

choose

ya snooze ya

lose

caw caaw it's time to

move

around the sun

times twelve moons full

caw caaaaw yeah no

bye for now

holy cow

blessing

now

then flies away . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

. . . . . and back another

day . . . . . . . . . . .

. . . . . . . . . . . . wow . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

perched

on pole or tree

ca caw caw caaaaw

insistent foreshadowing

beckons attention

undividedly

always turning me

around

ca caaw

ca caaaw

telling how

what where why and

when

usually

wearing 

black and

the greatest wingspan

ever seen

'til then

bearing messages

warning joy and

sorrow

gone south today and north

tomorrow  . . .

Domestic Violet

Semper Vi ~

Survivor . . . from the VORTEX

So . . .

clearly

she merely

memorized

the color of his

eyes

watching her

from the

trees

peaks

clouds

like doubt

with her always

always

around

so

unlike the

sound

of his whisper

unheard

too many years

now

however

his laughter

chimes

rhymes

lines her

heart where the holes

are

so long

the days go

ever

slowly

holy

humbling

stumbling toward

hell

no

so

hello

instead

again she lifts her chin

like he had when she was

sad

and let the tears

fears

years

roll in his

warm hand

soul band

best

man

so how could she

know

he would go

so

slow

reaching

low 

and get a handful

      twisting

ripping       

   dragging

snagging

her heart so

on the way

out  . . .

Domestic Violet

Semper Vi ~

Survivor . . . from the VORTEX

She slumbers with . . .

her

satchel -

in a world ruled by

fear guilt shame

and as she sleeps

she knows no

peace

as terror frustration bewilderment despair

greet her

every morning

many many days now -

she doesn't know

how

to get away from the four

hideous horsemen

with bayonets at her back

so she runs real fast

to stay

ahead of them

instead of moving from

their path

and her magnificent mind bent

shaped with

Puritan authority -

a steely stare

hint of madness there

yet Goddess flows from her fingertips

and though taught to

despise

her very loins

life sprang from there

and she gave enough care

that none have returned

to dust and ashes

yet

and all have

stories

to tell and cry and haw

at what they

saw

but

none can shine her shoes

or her love of them

and countless times they tried

but

cannot stay away for long

from the

chisel

in the sculptor's hand

carving out the

heart required

to return

again . . .

Domestic Violet

Semper Vi ~

Survivor . . . from the VORTEX

Oh!

Pale pink iridescent

polish

peeks

plays hide and

seek

poking out

partly

like its

own

half moon

hidden

all day long

in hiking boots

shed for bed

paroling feet

built for rocky

climbing

freed for freshening and

slippers

revealing

hole in fat sock not

seen in

morning

peering back at me

coquettishly

keeping company

while preparing for

pajamas . . .

Domestic Violet

Semper Vi ~

SURVIVOR . . . from the VORTEX

Did you know . . .

trees

grow from

the side of me -

the front and behind

me -

seeds not

planted by me - it was not

me

at the end of

the spear sliced through my

soul

by

fear not mine

and

though

laid open by the blade

I stayed

to

birth the seed

of that left behind the knife swipe where

there

is

not enough oxygen

suddenly

and darkness

descends

but

fertile ground remains for basement

bacteria

left by the tip of

the knife under my

heart rib

as roots shoot -

struggling

for life and a birch bark starts out my third

chakra  

seeking  

enlightenment

intuitively

behind my third eye

while on the other

side

hard dried ancient oak protectively protrudes

from

gravity center

solarly

plexed -

holding the

ground

down around  mountainous

northern extremity where nutty knotty pine sits at tip-top

mixed   

with maple    cherry     olive leaf  

and sumac near  the apple

and the pear

with partridges in it -

on the way

down

and the occasional  cottonwood

rains its breathtaking

seed

all around

and in

reality

covers up the

newly growing

spring green

blotting out the

sun

possibly with the

intention

of weeding out the

strong -

who remain

despite

wrong

conditions

with

assistance to -

shaking off -

thriving

against

all odds

and no

air –

and no sunlight

there -

rotting

when

smothered

too long -

bang a gong

in the forest

to forecast

what’s going

on

where every leaf

shivers

shimmers -

dances to the

sound –

waving with

wonder

in the breeze

but

stopping to

sneeze sending seeds

from the Mother  all around

the glen and back again –

aaaAA-Choo !

perrdon su - !!!!!!!!!!

but

the babies were born from Nature’s love of natural

phenomenon -

unstoppable -

by deprivation   degradation   radiation   segregation   pollution

or political invasion

isolation

libelous retaliation

or various kinds of humiliation  -

ostra- indication  of anything

real

to be afraid of – so the real deal

is –

down in the

ground -

at the root can be

found

a path laid down

by the slice –

by the path of

life’s

spice -

pain

made great

by the shade of

the

blade . . .

Domestic Violet

Semper Vi ~

Survivor . . . from the VORTEX

The women of . . .

summer

gathered in the

shed -

like the women of

Sumer

at the dawn of the

world

fashioned earthen

vessels

and garments of nature's

threads -

and gave them color -

igneous

sedimentary

complimentary -

while sister women

poured water

from clay pitchers

over the potter's

hands -

taking turns at the wheel

all summer long

and

tied up their cotton

to dip in

vats of steaming dyes -

cyan

magenta

indigo

and like the Sumerian -

honored the Goddess

Power of Creation

with sister song  -

and in the fall

weaved  long yarns

around the fire -

their backs to the

coming winter wind -

patient hands -

universal messengers -

shaped and sculpted

earth and water -

glazed with fat brushes

pots pressed with

sacrifice

and vases for

spring flowers . . .

Domestic Violet ~

 

Behind Bullets and Barrels ~

fearful fingers

fumble

when it matters

glass houses

shatter

pressure’s

privilege

is fine

when you’re a

diamond

but beware of those

guarding the mine

with 

their power’s

persuasive

arsenals

strong

long after

the west was

won

survivors have

mastered

psychic

trespassers

found

bound

and gagged

under the gun 

of time   

liberty tries

when tied up

with lies

to arm wrestle

fear

for its

freedom

but life’s

longer arm

wakes up with

alarm

seeking

portals

hidden under the

tables

where 

terror dwells in 

surprise

oil slippery

eyes

greed-glazed

hand-outs

behind bullets and

barrels

golden

litter

swept up

by the mortals . . .

 

Domestic Violet

Semper Vi ~

Survivor . . . from the VORTEX

 

Now . . .

Though we cannot

return

to history

nor know a days

advance -

we can lounge around the

mystery

if we only take

the chance !

This way we've come

like all

will pass

and time

we know will fly

and we may

someday

rue the hour -

the one we let

go by . . .

Domestic Violet

Semper Vi ~

Survivor . . . from the VORTEX

Day ends . . .

. . . with a thunderous

quiver

the night

shivered

glimmered

shimmered

as the roar

rolled

bowled

echoed

down the

range

and a dark

strange

silent

interval

collapsed

with a CLAP

that

bowled  South

again

without hitting

a pin

in the Summer

of 2008

late

after greatness

lightness and

brightness

of day

and a date with

a God - issued

amazing

authentic

tremendous

talent

who showed up

in the

loud

evening

crowd

with a pretty

blue guitar

and the hands

of the Master

played . . .

Domestic Violet

Semper Vi ~

Survivor . . . from the VORTEX

 

Even . . .

 

Even though Hades                                          

waited not for

my arrival

but came with all the

Furies

and cast aside

the Muse ~

 

I stayed

 

 

Even when Buddha

had Jesus for

a rival

and found a seed of

faith

once hidden by

some Harpies ~

 

I prayed

 

 

Even after Holocaust

revealed Illuminati

survival

closed my eyes to

Power’s

maligned mis-use

like blinded masses ~

 

I strayed

 

 

Even before Birth

Death’s date of

deprival

released from lyrical

source

Universally signed

infinite discourse ~

 

I played  . . . . . . . . . .

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

 

Domestic Violet

Semper Vi ~

Survivor . . . from the VORTEX

 

 

It's only . . .

Life ~

 

 

relentlessly

never giving up

 

until good and ready

to

 

goes on

 

toward dawn

 

still there

 

first thing in the

 

morning

 

tasting of

 

past

 

but resists

 

passing to

 

present

 

peeks around the

corner

 

of tomorrow

 

and barely pays

 

attention

 

forward procession

 

urges from

 

behind

 

perpetual motion

 

looks neither left

 

nor right

 

nor from or to

the future slip and slide

 

flashing brightly by

 

the blinking

 

eye

 

thinking it

 

harnessed

alas

sneaking

one last

glance

at departure's

surprise . . . . .

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

Domestic Violet

 

 

Semper Vi ~

 

 

Survivor . . . from the VORTEX

 

 

 

 

 

 

Where again ?

How will I find you

after I'm gone ?

When death has

kidnapped me

to go where the song of life

leads

the heart no longer bleeds ~

They say you are waiting

in some golden light

Is the bridge on my

deathbed ?

Is that the first sight ?

Is that right ?

Where again ?

No one can know ~

we all must go

Are you there ?

Do you care ?

Or I am long

forgotten

in your passing

long ago ?

Will my soul be one that

you know ?

Widowed widow longing

for a glimpse

for a moment

Forever missing

your hair turning

white . . .

Domestic Violet

Semper Vi ~

Survivor . . . from the VORTEX

 

 

G.I. Jane . . .

. . . coffee and a comfortable chair

for occasional T.V. watching

Hoo - ya !

Every few years

it is good to review some

favorite things and

ideas found within ~

SELF PITY

is the ultimate message

from this 1997 movie

Quite unexpectedly quoted -

D.H. Lawrence was read

by the Master Chief in his

spare time -  ( who woulda thought ? )

" I never saw a wild thing

sorry for itself -

The bird will fall

frozen

from the bough

without ever having felt

sorry for

itself " -

and he quoted this to new

Navy S.E.A.L. recruits -

a Woman among them

for the first time

She took it all -

every challenge

every beating

every test and ridicule

everything -

against all odds

right along with the MEN

with nary a quivering chin

HOO - YA !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Handcuffed from behind

in every way

even by those who claimed to

support -

one a female Senator who

used her for political gain

" Kiss my stick "

she told him - for T.V.

" Suck my DICK  !!! "

we heard her say

on the '97  Big big screen

to the Master Chief when he issued her

a brutal

beating -

and she kicked his ass

with her hands tied behind -

he whose life she eventually

saved

during real combat -

after grueling training that sent some of the

boys home

In the end he gave her

respect

a medal and

Navy S.E.A.L. credentials

and the

book

of D.H. Lawrence works -

quote on Self Pity underlined

and it was the first time

she cried . . .

Domestic Violet

Semper Vi ~

Survivor . . . from the VORTEX

 

Forever . . .

the Moon has her face on -

tonight only one third staring

out the corner of her eye on the

bottom side of round

at our Earth -

like

she's

an

egg

partially out

and sky is giving birth ~

Domestic Violet

Semper Vi ~

Survivor . . . from the VORTEX

Dreams or Swords . . .

. . . in poet Amy Lowell's

words

about the power of WORDS

to harm or heal -

and with great humility

Dr. PHIL amended his

alleged harmful behavior today

publicly telling the world

regarding an attempt to help

( Oh God make it stop ! )

Britney Spears and her family ~

What hope is there for Brit

when even he cannot  " say it right "  or

" do it right " enough for everyone ?

But it was right of him to

apologize for his part

and not the rest

and to set the matter straight -

and this led into today's topic

- gossip and its danger -

and teenage girls who threatened to kill a girl

in revenge and anger

mentioned in detail

online

and a lawsuit ensues over powerful words

because of course

whenever and wherever we can prosecute

in our inside-out spiritually bankrupt out of balance

legalistic patriarchal world

we must -

which led nicely into Oprah today and

it's Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.'s day

and his DREAM lives on -

the one where     " people do not judge each other

by the color of their skin

but rather for the content of their character "!

His message lives on and hope remains

that one day WE will be united as one people

who were ALL CREATED EQUAL under God

whatever you conceive God to be -

it makes no difference to me

and if you thought it did

you're wrong

and if you said you thought you knew

my mind and motivations

you were lying and spreading garbage around

like the two teenage girls and their really big mouthes -

but they have no history of violence

and have never been in a physical fight with anyone !

It was just their false bravado talking

yet hatred and fear abound

in the power of the sound

of words they said

but did not mean them  ???

" Why lie

when the truth will work just fine " ~ DOM Vi ~

One girl claiming instead they just tried to

scare the girl away from her boyfriend -

while the second girl had no personal beef

and was just taking up for her insecure friend

who

like most young women

is willing to go to any length

over a man !

And I wonder

what they really meant then -

if their character content

is what we should judge

but

how can we

unless and until they tell us the truth ?

Like the good Dr. PHIL and the hopeful contenders

in the race to run the U.S.A -

we have to choose

to believe what they say ?

It's a dreamy day of swords

when our Presidential campaign

is un-hopefully incongruous

like Congress -

a hazy spray of Peace and War

with Love so superfluous -

when it would be as lovely if

a Black man could win

as it will be when a Woman

finally does !!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Either way we need a new day and

I don't care who becomes

our next President

just so the

right one does . . .

Domestic Violet

Semper Vi ~

Survivor . . . from the VORTEX

 

 

 

The note

Ink drops splayed

watercolor rays

fallen tears

on the page where

printed letters

changed

to cursive

way outside the lines

in places

like the writer

whose trembling hand

betrayed

decision made and

the reasons why

the day the note was found

crumpled in a ball

out in the hall

lifelong War waged

while Peace not found in

the first place

could hardly come and go

like Love’s scarce

visitor

there was no one home

anymore

behind the door

ajar . . .

 

Domestic Violet

Semper Vi ~

Survivor . . . from the VORTEX

Boot Straps

                                    

When I fell upon the cracking sidewalk

at seven

 

bloodied up my knees

 looked for ease and

comfort

scrubbed and bandaged

sent back outside

with or without

a hug

but mostly told to

pick myself up by

the bootstraps and

move on

wondering what the

bootstraps are

and how to put them on

 

When I fell in love

the first of many broken hearts

 

I found bootstraps

somehow

in the sorrow of rejection’s

messy-ness

picked myself up

carried on

to the next

restlessness

 

As I fell into anguished anger

grieving too much

death

reaching

for straps and boot heels

to lift me up

again

wearied worn out

same refrain

calling farther away

falling out

boot straps no longer

meet me  half-way

no salve for

the flailing pain

 

So I fell into graceless

impossible places

created

by my own hand on the straps

somer-saulted face down

slammed to the sidewalk

boot straps - no savior

fated faith surrendered

a grain of timely

 

sand . . . . . . . . . .

 

Domestic Violet

Semper Vi ~

Survivor . . . from the VORTEX

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Fifties Nose-breather

I slipped out of Eden into diaper and pram

I tripped over chaos

crawled and walked 'til I ran

I dipped into Knowledge

sate my thirst

filled my cup

I sipped back the porridge

'til I lay in a rut

I stripped out of Proper

Peace and Love

LSD

I ripped down the stopper

all for you

all of me

I whipped Introspection

a wild frothy lather

I shipped my direction at the last

full of blather

I flipped on Creation

fell for line shape and hue

I nipped your Projection

it was not about you

I hipped Procreation

gave the world four fine lives

I skipped around Lovers

unlike Stepfordly wives

I chipped away armour

from a too-precious Pain

I dripped with Redemption

I Forgave the insane

I gripped the Grim Reaper

shouldered burden and strife

I tipped over sideways

death produced a new life

I quipped and I quoted

was Enlightened

then not

I gypped the whole world

could have been what I'm not !

Not Einstein nor Monroe

Not Dr. Violet either

not mortgaged

not franchised

just a Fifties nose-breather !!!!!!!

Not a girlfriend or wife

I don't want to be one

It's O.K. if you are

I'm just done tryin' to please 'em

I'm not losing the win

for I just don't compete

A former friend does however

and moved in down the street

I'm not slacking but lack

the will to do battle

I just don't have time now

for most ugly prattle

I'm not Queen

I'm not Slave

I'm somewhere

in the middle

necessarily Brave

I see into the riddle

Not too tall

not too short

not a face-lift for me

Wasn't Yuppie

or into sports much

That which I love is

FREE

Free to speak or to not

A CLOSED MOUTH LEARNS A LOT !!!!!!!!

Free as you

so me too

Hypocrisy is not hard to spot

Free from limit

free from fear

free to think

there to here

Free to try

to cry

and to stay far or near

Free from crime

free to shine

to find reason and rhyme

Free to choose

none to lose

wisely using my time

Free to pause and think through

and I'll get back to you . . .

Domestic Violet

Semper Vi ~

Survivor . . . from the VORTEX

 

 

 

 

 

 

Stuff 1990 . . .

 . . . stuff stuff

do you have enough ?

When times get

rough

do you think you have enough

stuff ?

People who can't get enough

have to put little links on their

cuffs ~

Can you ever get enough stuff in your bird ( turkey ) ?

You enter life in the

buff

and spend your days trying to get

more and more

stuff ~

Big stuff,  little stuff, designer and electric stuff, kitchen stuff

bedroom stuff, working in the yard stuff, girl stuff, boy stuff

computer and aerobic stuff, music stuff, movie stuff and

endless automotive stuff

The stuff you need

the stuff you don't

who really can be sure ?

But if it disappeared today

would you behave the same old way

Is stuff what really makes you who you

are ?

When you've got too many clothes and

they fill up all your closets and your garage will hold two cars

but you've got three

then you have to get a bigger house

to put all of your stuff in

and trying to live without it you can't

see ~

Some people are rich

some people are poor

we all judge each other by

who has more

STUFF ~

The rich mans hires other people to

take care of his

stuff ~

The poor man has to go without

enough ~

Who do YOU envy more ?

The biggest house and many cars and

filled up bank accounts

this is the STUFF that we all think

success is all about ! ?? !! ??

He who has the most toys dies

and leaves them all behind

what really matters in the end

is if he has been

kind . . . . . . . . . . . . !

Domestic  Violet

Semper Vi ~

Survivor . . . from the VORTEX

 

Bullshit . . .

. . . People talk

incessantly

all chatter to my

ear

     of what they'll do

and where they'll

go

but not until next year

I hear the words

       and watch them walk

the opposite

direction

as if they think that

saying so

relieves them of all action

" I'm sorry " means

you will repeat

what you've done to

offend me

and " Sometime soon "

means when you

feel like it

but only if you

have to ~

" Maybe "

is a guarantee

that not a thing will

happen

and  " I don't know "

is just way to

not say

what you mean today

in case it changes

tomorrow

So all I see is lameness

procrastinating

gameness

denying and

justifying

all non - activity

while none of what I'm hearing

is happening in front of me

What could I do

with all that

talk

if it be changed to

gold

or simply just the

energy required

to recite each phase of

meaningless

conversation . . .

1987

Domestic Violet

Semper Vi ~

Survivor . . . from the VORTEX

 

 

 

 

A la mode

Life ~

is just a big fat pie

cut into too many

sections

too many times

with you in the center

a mark of mush from

too many passes

by the blade

with pieces missing ~

The crusty parts

require work and

give respite from

the sweet euphoric

fill

and a real thrill

is a bite of both

and time

to lick from your lips

the memory . . .

Domestic Violet

Semper Vi ~

Survivor . . . from the VORTEX

Spotless

Life ~

is burly

squirrelly

While we find new

improved methods of

sloth and its

alibi

like making sure

our dishes come out

of the dishwasher

without spots

as messages are

text-ed

by people while they drive

some who have not taken

typing yet

or Driver's Ed

It's squirrelly that we travel at

high rates of speed

within inches of other many-tonned

machines

passing in opposite

directions

and while typing to boot -

but so burly that we are so rude

independently

and abroad

No - not a broad

or maybe so ?

Life ~

is a burly squirrelly

bad bad girl

rode hard and not put away

yet

So crudely stunning

and rough around the edges

with her feet upon the

table

her name is probably

Mabel

and her whiskey makes her woozy

so she's torn the dress

she's

worn too long

and comes on

a little too strong

as expected of a

floozy

Her moments of true

gentility

with ankles neatly crossed

are quickly replaced

by her underlying

hostility

caring only enough to wash

her own face

occasionally

simply to be ready for

the next

time . . .

Domestic Violet

Semper Vi ~

Survivor . . . from the VORTEX

 

 

Back seat bases

Life ~

certain endless-ness

factored in forever days

momentous mad

four-square plays

tether ball

'chicken' with the

best steak knives and

'horse' across the alley

'crack the whip' at Comiskey

and anything risky

Batter up !  on the

diamond

became bases blocked

in the back seat

sure that it was fair

arguing the pointed

point

over a bottle of

Cabernet

comforted by

black light and

well wishing cohorts

the kind

Dylan

and Pabst Blue Ribbon

positively seeking

universal mysteries

beyond the ticking

clock

with voracious soaking up

of latitudes of

literary platitudes

briefly

blocking all

attempts at successful

integration

with the

team

who seldom offered

a ride

up front

carrying some

other captain

on their shoulders

stuffing the

water boy

into the back window

and off to the circus

celebration

for raucous

ridicule

outlined in increments

though none

golden

applied to

one's own ruling

with bases loaded

curve ball saves the

game over and

again as

the bat is broken

striking out

the side that is

as well

as it can be

said she

so will it be done

when the third strikes you

out

of the

dugout

to the mound

with the mit

and some

spit

and polish on

the ball

with a slightly blue

tint

said he

helmet strapped on

moving the muscle

in the jaw

that keeps the truth

from coming out

sweltering

against the cold metal

cup

of consolation

between the seats . . .

Domestic Violet

Semper Vi ~

Survivor . . . from the VORTEX

Time Sleeps with the Snails

While I vacationed at

Cape Regret

lounging with memory

I long to forget

walking the sandy

Beach of Intent

you'll never know

what I really meant

As I lamented

the winds of desire

a sandbar of hatred

lights up with fire

Running aground

the Island of Ire

sinking and bound

a loveless quagmire

Out from the Lagoon

a Lost Lover wails

wandering aimless

a boat with no sails

alone as the moon

time sleeps with the

snails

Sorrowful River

at southernly end

waved up a current

Safe Harbor Bend

truth is a sliver

salt washing the rend

reeling in torrents

too ruined to mend

The Bay of Betrayal

gave room to rebound

self sympathy jail

no peace in the sound

Leaving the Cape

I never have found

a way to escape

that you were

around . . .

Domestic Violet

Semper Vi ~

Survivor . . . from the VORTEX

Sixty Seconds of a Writer's Life

My heaven ~ my emotion

my soul out on the ocean

A wavy ride

love at my side

a gale for my promotion

*

A hurricane ~ remembered pain

unraveling a newfound gain

an ebb at tide

permissioned glide

my heart begins to rain

*

A memory kissed

travailed on the mist

the sunless sky beneath me

*

Salty doubts ~ mind in shrouds

spirit wakes with parting clouds

a seaweed hue

the starboard due

horizon with no bounds

*

A landed ship

introspective trip

and sure to make good copy !

( 1998 )

Domestic Violet

Semper Vi ~

Survivor . . . from the VORTEX

Haiku you - for brevity's sake !

I.

How strange for a child

lightning and thunderous clouds

wet wide open sky

Angels are bowling in heaven

they're told when asking how - why?

2.

Mist of the morn is

haze as sunlight creeps the night

darkness descending

brings new misting once again

black to white - never ending

3.

Beyond the gates of picket

lay paths made of finest stone

a garden, hidden grows

trees for shading western sun

a life plot nobody knows

4.

Papery pastels

bloom from an old cactus patch

where no water fell

spines surround gentle blossoms

I lament my touch denied

5.

My cat's best friend is

a chatty cat who visits

now and then with tales

of other cats, wailing a

long string of gossipy news

6.

A belabored breath

revealed a doom impending

the presence of death

one day the night unending

forever one day

7.

At seven I was a

surplus of lips and teeth

red in my rude hair

legs too long to safely sport

my shy awkward self

8.

Surely you jest, please

diamond in - the - rough seas

to share life with me

would polish you without ease

I don't suggest it

9.

When you pass me by

cover your eyes, close your ears

pay no attention

you can't get me anyway

I did not reach you

10.

Oh creation, to take

the reader around the world

to prompt cognition

one - at once - at one once

they might just get what I say

11.

Options one thru 10

I'm sure that is all there are

safe with 2, even 3

too late it occurs to me

what of number eleven?

Domestic Violet

Semper Vi ~

Survivor . . . from the VORTEX

Muddy Miss

I am enthralled by

rings of fog

clasped with dew

misty shadows  in

Springtime dawn

hide

the man's barn

the only one close

to shoreline

A jagged haze

begins to raise

my love to you

Mississippi River

queen you

it's no surprise

I grew up with

you

Your muddy banks

overflow

in Summer months

black earth lush

with every green ~

Your Autumn orange

and reds

startle

eyes coming from

the west

blazing in the hills

where your sun

sets ~

Enormous water

sharp icicles dangle from

naked frozen trees

December's soft flakes

fall

fat and wet

food

for you ~

I sit at your edge

'til dark descends

and you're

a starry bog . . .

Domestic Violet

Semper Vi ~

Survivor . . . from the VORTEX

What Luck !

She found a shoe

left behind

rider and steed

long gone now

They made it to

wherever

with only three

She found it as

day was done

all day she walked

climbed a tree

while he fished

swallowed in the tall

grass

It caught her eye

near a trail

guarded by rock and

pompass

She picked it up

waving to show

as he threw back the

fish he just caught

and he smiled

He drove her home

in his 1955 Chevrolet

pickup

horseshoe luck on

the floorboard

forgotten with 'good day !'

and 'good night'

at her door

She awoke with a

startle

for she dreamed of the

rider

whose horse left the shoe

for her

in the pompass

She went to the fisherman

'good morning'

at his door

where he shows with

pride

the shoe nailed in above

while he guiled

as he smiled

Her breathless heart

she though would burst

to see her lover's

worst

'You cannot take

my luck from me !'

she told him

'I simply left it

in your truck

the luck was never meant

for you !

No luck for you -

stealing it from me

Give it back !'

And he did

with a vengeance

and her panties and her

brush

and the presents she

gave him

and 'goodbye' and

'good luck'

while she smiled . . .

Domestic Violet

Semper Vi ~

Survivor . . . from the VORTEX

The Trust of Trees

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Because the leaves appear each year

we need not fear their falling

and when dark nights bring morning sun

another night is calling ~

~~~~~

From seeming deaths and dark unknowns

never-endings, deep and doubtful

come brand new life and liberty

revealing what is joyful ~

~~~~~

With branches bare the trees don't fear

but wait with dignity

they haven't died without their leaves

though appearing differently ~

~~~~~

Trees know the sun comes up each day

to guide them with its light

to bring their growth so gradually

so they can fill out right ~

~~~~~

So unconcerned a tree must be

to never bother trying

a different way of getting green

like paint or theft or lying ~

~~~~~

The coming of the sun appears

to happen over night

and trees are just like you and me

so naked in the light ~

~~~~~

For darkness to repeat itself

we cannot seem to bear

we try to keep our old leaves on

our past we try to wear~

~~~~~

The tree lets go of what once was

and gladly waits the darkness

its branches lift majestically

through night and natures harshness~

~~~~~

The tree can't run and hide its plight

it can't give up and die

held in its place by love and grace

kept hidden from my eye ~

~~~~~

In growing up and leafing green

the tree need only search

the earth where it was once a seed

the soil that gave it birth ~

~~~~~

It grows straight down as well as up

in two ways, not just one

the need is met in its foundation

life-giving it becomes ~

~~~~~

A bird will nest within its arms

and fruit it will display

the trusting root receives the power

to give each leaf away ~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Domestic Violet ( 1991 )

Semper Vi ~

Survivor . . . from the VORTEX

No Smack Poets

The Poets

don't shuck

they don't write

no jive

Not the ones who are gone

not the ones

still alive ~

William Wordsworth

my favorite

long gone now

along with Shakespeare

and Miss Dickinson

Miss Austen

and Mrs. Barrett Browning

not a one had need to lie

Wordsworth wrote:

" 'Tis said, that some have died for love' "

NO TRUER WORDS HAVE BEEN SPOKEN !

The Poets have direct connect

a finger on the pulse of

the Collective Unconscious

and if you don't believe

then read

Toni Morrison

and Maya Angelou

There is no ' Smack '

no scam

no game to run

and there's nothing more

honest

than " The Wilderness "

by The Door's

Jim Morrison ~

With no bullshit

no empty receive

no attempt to

deceive

The Poets touch

the one true heart

in all of us

and proclaim steady beat

telling us what

we would say

if we could

what we know

feel and

don't want to know

also

peeling us back

stripping us bare

revealing ourselves to

us

as they were revealed to

themselves

by God's pen . . .

Domestic Violet

Semper Vi ~

Survivor . . . from the VORTEX

The Poets

I learned to love

verse

from every nursery

rhyme

They kept

time

and I could feel it

and I swayed and

I revealed

it

and rocked and rolled

and wrote

my own

but never steal

it ~

From someone long ago

came a treasured

letter

saying

"I wonder what I could do

on a typewriter

if I could only sepll ?

Do tell !

I'm laughing as hard right now

as I did the first time I read that line

and it was written in the 80's

stating personal

stuff

and poetry as well

by Merritt Malloy

from

"My Song for Him Who Never Sang to Me"

Sometimes it seems

As though I've been everywhere

As though I'm returning again

Knowing who I'll experience

And Why

I know I've known him before

There must have been a time

A moment alone

On an elevator

Or across a room . . . forgotten

We did touch each other once before

He's a brand new

Old Friend.

I found the letter

yesterday while organizing

life

appreciating very much

this was shared

then and

once again

The poets

gone before me

put life upon the

page

with rhyme or not

they touched a spot

alive and well

today

Merritt Malloy is one

of many

lyricists along the way

who have inspired and

cajoled

in the truths they have

told

The wind behind

my pen

all the way . . .

Domestic Violet

Semper Vi ~

Survivor . . . from the VORTEX

The Poets make me do it ~

I came on the wings of

equality

change

love

intellect

heart and soul

from the side and

the middle

of the road ~

If I could say

what

brought me

your way

it would be

fearlessness

What could scare me

today

after everything it took

to

now

be

here ~

All along I ran and

no one

knew

how fast or where

I came from ~

" When I'm

lonely

I'm lonely

like a tumbling weed

in the open desert

sun

rolling in the heat and

the wind

trying for shade

in the cooling late

day

looking for what I

need . . . ( Me - 1993 )

The Poets make me

do it

if there's someone

to blame

It's as far as I can go

today

in facetiously blaming

anyone

for anything

after careful examination

of personal responsiblity

and its subtle

nuances

having slowed to walk and

pause when necessary

mellowed but

definite now ~

Inspired by the

justice

all form of poetry

serves

I tell this way

what I have

' right '

and reason

to say

rhyme or

no

in the simplest

poetic

words

And that's the truth

poetic license

gives to all who

try

its hand ~

The paper don't lie

with collective

pen consciousness

upon it

unless you are

a fiction writer ~

The Poets

are to blame

with their "drugs and their

blades "

to paraphrase

the Pulitzer Prize wining

Poet

Amy Lowell

regarding the effect

of words

describing books

as " dreams or

swords " ~

cigar smoking

avid reading

Amy

nailed it down

in 1925 . . .

Poetry Saves !

Domestic Violet

Semper Vi ~

Survivor . . . from the VORTEX

Guinevere's Ghostly Gas

The knight whose

armour

shone so bright

now pales almost daily

in my sight

His shine it seems

so brilliant at first

has become small

tinny and

faded like the distant end

of a tunnel ~

he wears a constant

stubble

Steed and lancet

at the pawn shop

he's reduced to just a beer sot

with a one-two punch

lit up soon after lunch

He has silenced my voice

and I'll have no choice

yes once again

in the very end

but to run from him

crawling over his

rusted metal . . .

1993

Domestic Violet

Semper Vi ~

Survivor . . . from the VORTEX

Parting is . . .

Fine is not a feeling

but it's all you'll get

from me

Don't ask me how

I'm doing now

I'm fine as you can see

You're not my sweet love

after all

you can't make my dreams

happen

To love you best and

let you go

takes courage and

real caring

If I could keep you

here with me

it would not be love at all

for in this day of

parting ways

are memories recall

Without good-bye

how could I know

what I must learn

tomorrow

I say good-bye and

also " Hi "

in but the same swift

breath

Our lives are full of

starting points

that feel disguised as death . . .

Domestic Violet ( 1991)

Semper Vi ~

Survivor . . . from the VORTEX

In the country

Sat down for

coffee

in my comfortable

chair

on hundred years old

hardwood

a poet captured

in a book

of Scimitar Dreams

by Katherine West

It has the best

dream theme

sliced by the sword

and so I did read and

rest

the vestal greeting

on mute

saved by the (Scimitar)

sword ~

The long blade

from Japan he said

hung there

by my Grandfather

when I was much shorter ~

A flash of recall

suddenly

stops me rocking -

revealing

that the sword

on the wall

sang ancient songs

to live and

die by

up the gravel road

in the country ~

I dreamed in color

in those days -

Pastels

fade to grey

nightmares

night

terrors

small feet

shot out of bed

with a scream

bad dream

clammy, cold

trembles in a

nightie

Cuckoo says

4:30

Not yet

light

in the

living room

alone

with the

blade

which beckons me

touch

the cold steel

ornate handle

above the sofa back

Awe

dries my tears

I want to

un-sheath

can barely reach

it's bigger than

me

and so is Grandfather

who I find was right behind

me

all along

silent and strong

Scooped me back to bed

with my sister

" NEVER TOUCH THE SWORD " !

with a swat on my

behind

But

I can't

not ~

Pirate voices

calling

singing

sea songs

to me

And Egypt's

Osiris

hacked up

by a sword and

scattered

through Egyptian lands

his

twin/wife Isis

searched and gathered

restoring him

with her

utterance

Together they

built the Pyramids

it is said ~

Fuedal Samurai

armed with a

Tachi'

wielded it

wisely

as a professional warrior

would

The Genesis Book

is just one 

reference

in which mention of

the sword

is made

And in another book

by Matthew

when Jesus was seized

after Judas betrayed Him

with a kiss

Someone who loved Him

drew a sword and

cut off the ear of a

slave

Shua said ~

" Put your sword back

  in it's place

  for all who take it up

  shall perish by it

  too "

And all his disciples fled

and He was led away

to do what He came to do

For me and you

if you think so

The Powerful twists of

Excalibur and

King Arthur

the Knights of the Round Table

Lancelot and Guinevere

in the Avalon mists

The sword symbolizes

too much to

list

I'm still in

Awe

of the one

on the wall

in the country . . .

Domestic Violet

Semper Vi ~

Survivor . . . from the VORTEX

The People Parade

The people parade

passed before me

over half a century

What a privilege

to witness

the characters cast

collectively collated

mixed nuts in the

soup

Some were carrying

balloons, at the zoo

and birthday parties

Some were carried

some carried

There were

airs of love

of entitlement

some hate

Some were BIG

and there were

small ones

and new ones

and timeless, wizened

ones

There were male ones

and female

in that order

clearly

And even clearer

the happy vs. mad ones

and some even carried guns

There was wit and bullshit

and not a page will fit

between them

and there are even Star - ship riders

gone from home so long now

My favorite ones are

under three and

over 70

the rest are full of shit

The brightest

the dumbest

right behind the syndrome

Down's

Every tint and hue

revealed

They were TALL

they've been short

most are insanely into

sports

shooting hoops from

wheelchairs, if necessary

The incredible, indomitable

Spirit

of the passing people stream

They were right

they've been wrong

today I give permission

a Golden Ruler guide

Perplexed by some

others " NOT "

Enormously in awe

of the manifested mind

I've seen the terrible thing

and people in their Glory

Pure Joy from

pure suffering

Savvy people

Stupid people

Scared to death

bravado people

young people

all  invincible ego

rare REAL men

and healthy ego

The Garcon

the Blacksmith

a tango with the Tailor

Nothing greater than

the expert Workman

Sir Laurence Olivier

was heard to say

Some strive for excellence

some could give a shit

some Women brought the

rest of us

a long

yet longer way

Some Women keep the Earth a-turning

yet another day

Some rich some

poor

some struggle a lot

People streaming past

my eyes with

no stop

Honored to see all manner of

Humanity

and its sad lack

Proud to be spared

the crippling prejudice

against one who is

Black or

Yellow or

Brown or

White

For god's sake

it's the Irish who

like to fight

They've been thick in

the parade

as well as every other

Some Blonde for real

some balding

some raging

carrot - top

some dark

or ash to golden

Some see more than just with

their eyes

some see more than you

realize

Some were extra special, special

like my only baby Brother

and my fortunate children who

came right behind him

Parading on

the people are

I watch them come

and go

and going is

your own parade

I'm passing by

just now

A medium European poet

cyclist from the Moon

A piece of streaming personage

a step in time

a loving rhyme

escaping from the din

twirling my baton

to meditate

pondering the

never - ending

People Parade

while I can still see . . .

Domestic Violet

Semper Vi  ~

Survivor . . . from the VORTEX

Lubricant

                                                   

" His pre-conceived notion

is that all of my lotion

will not help me as I'm

growin' old

He seems pretty sure

I will shrivel and demure

at least

that is what he's been told . . . "

" You're a babe in the woods "

a real old man said:

" You're a girl, springy chicken

and you're pulse I could quicken

if only I were younger by a day !

Whaddya say ? "

" Tee hee " I replied

" Old and young they have tried

but I

cannot in good conscience

stray

My commit maybe wrongly

is so loving and strongly

that I

shall not be suaded away

Good day . . . !

            +#%&$@?%#+

In ancient Greek Theater a trilogy

is composed of three parts;

each their own story

with a related

theme . . .

Domestic Violet

Semper Vi

Survivor  . . . from the VORTEX