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Posts Tagged ‘simplicity’

Innocence

Posted in poetry, tagged , , , , , , , on January 28, 2025| 1 Comment »

Children are the hands by which we take hold of heaven. Henry Ward Beecher

THE DOLL HOUSE

Her pink shirt stained
with chocolate birthday cake,
the little girl moves miniature figures
through her new doll house.


The adults talk.
Their voices rise and fall with
grunts and whines.

That child’s daddy needs a new attitude.

Ray should knock off the bourbon
before his liver turns into a sponge
like the one in Nita’s filthy sink.

What’s the point of a 25-cent coupon
on four cans of tuna?

High-priced gas in a ’96 Chevy is
like putting diamonds
into a broken goddamn gumball ring.

The little girl pauses,
interrupted by dull laughter, a cynic’s applause,
as she prepares her doll family for a special trip
under the stairway,
where purple sand and white sea wait,
with a sky where the only clouds permitted
are made of ice cream and marshmallows,
and no one over the age of six may enter.

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A Word from an Almost Dead Plant

Posted in inspiration, tagged , , , , , , , , on August 6, 2021| Leave a Comment »

living flower

One day I will find the right words, and they will be simple. (Jack Kerouac)

 I hate to admit it. My thumb isn’t green. Gangrene? More like it. I have destroyed succulents. Never on purpose.  My everyday world is too crowded. I never finish enough tasks to remember plant care.

 Simplicity. My goal on more than one level.

 A super-special person gave me this plant. In time it gave up. Too much water one day and then none for weeks. I placed the pot on the front porch. The leaves remained a sad, dull brown despite sun and rain.

 I declared it dead, but it missed garbage day. Twice. My best excuse is guilt. I felt as if I had ignored the goodness of the giver. Then, one day I saw a dry, weak green appear on one side. Nah! A fresh sprout would be a miracle. I didn’t deserve one. However, the flower was worthy. I let the green fight through.

 Now, bright-pink springs through our old blue railing. Life, one word.

Persistent and beautiful.

 

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Sonnet by a Mature Woman, a Poem

Posted in inspiration, tagged , , , , , on June 21, 2021| Leave a Comment »

new beautician

Happiness is when what you say, what you think, and what you do are in harmony. (Mahatma Ghandi)

No, I don’t wear makeup. It doesn’t hide anything that isn’t superficial. During play, my granddaughter acted as my new beautician. Since the mascara was probably bought sometime during the Reagan era, I washed my face as soon as possible and then discarded the contents of the old makeup bag.

However, I saved this poem, written and published in Dream Weaver Magazine in January of 1998.

Sonnet by a Mature Woman

New wrinkle creams entice from glossy ads
with svelte, young anorexics smiling out
at both my chins, at skin too old for fads.
Bold claims portrayed in color, dull my doubt.
 
Be young. Be free. Deny the lines of time.
The agony of blemish, breasts that sag
must never mar a body fit to climb
perfection’s route, nor risk cosmetic snag.
 
And yet my husband sees each bulge and flaw
with eyes that know the gain and loss of years
we’ve shared: the new and old, the fresh and raw
of yesterdays with struggles, joys, and fears.
 
We see within each other love held deep.
Compared to banal wisdom, beauty’s cheap.

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Wisdom, Perfectly Imperfect

Posted in inspiration, tagged , , , , , , , on June 13, 2021| 2 Comments »

There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.  (Albert Einstein) 

A technician from our security alarm company will be arriving this morning. Soon. Grandchildren have been through the house. The living room looks as if it hasn’t been cleaned since the turn of the century. I have a good imagination; I vacuumed two days ago. 

Paul H. arrives with his toolbox. He doesn’t look at anything except our misbehaving security box. I don’t notice much about him until he has almost finished with repairs. One of his eyes doesn’t align with the other. Nevertheless, he knows what he is doing and answers questions with ease. 

“Would you like a cup of coffee?” my husband asks. “Sure,” he answers. I add a little milk per his request and the three of us talk. About travels. About life. 

“I fell off a ladder,” he says. “Thirty-three feet.”

 I gasp. 

“Multiple injuries. Broken bones. Surgeries. More surgeries. Funny how kids stare and say exactly what they think. No holding back. They say I have a crazy eye. I just tell them it is artificial. I can’t see out of it. At all.” He turns toward me. “I’m a miracle.” 

I think about my earlier petty concerns and smile. This man chose to see us with the vision he has left. Not a marble under the TV or a crayon on the couch. A little shared coffee sounds great. I add warmth to my cooled mug and warmth to my spirit. 

Time to sign on the dotted line. Job completed. Thanks, Paul. May the story of your miracle help others see through their own times of darkness. 

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From a Dandelion, a Word to the Wise

Posted in inspiration, tagged , , , , , , , , on April 24, 2021| Leave a Comment »

Dandelions, like all things in nature are beautiful when you take the time to pay attention to them. (June Stoyer)

Good afternoon, human. I’ve been awake since early morning, grateful last week’s pesticide spray missed me.

Sure, I’ll pose. There are tulips on the other side of the sidewalk. Red. Yellow. I noticed you didn’t stop to admire them. You knew people in the eighteenth century preferred my ancestors to mowed grass. Nice research. I am hardy, rise early, and sleep late. I appreciate the compliment.

Wait… Don’t leave so quickly. I’d like to play mirror with a homo sapiens for a minute. Because…because you are thinking about people who are important to you. One woman was beaten when she was a child. She needed to be rescued. Yet, her spirit shines brighter than my yellow surface.  Her giving is honest.

I talked a bit fast there. But I wanted to get a lot of stuff in. Strange, isn’t it, how some creations flourish where others dissolve with the next temperature rise? Not a judgment, just what it is. An orchid is in trouble when its leaves get too dark. Can’t change that in a human either. However, the human has more sources for support. Physical. Mental.

You didn’t expect that much from a plant, a flower, this ordinary, did you? Even you have your stereotypes. I hope to see you again after the next mowing. Keep your eyes open. Thanks for the chat.

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Re-frame: A Poem

Posted in inspiration, tagged , , , , on November 25, 2020| 3 Comments »

You are imperfect, permanently, and inevitably flawed. And you are beautiful. (Amy Bloom)

 Re-frame

 My grandchildren’s whiteboard hangs loosely from its frame, pulled too many times by small hands. 

Scribbles, playschool, a partial red coverup in green over five, seven, or more years. My oldest granddaughter

frees and cleans the open space. She attaches it to my door. Re-frame. What appears to be broken becomes new. 

The new no longer needs approval from outside. It is real, re-framed inside its own white borders.

 

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When Us and Them Become Only Pronouns

Posted in inspiration, tagged , , , , on October 9, 2020| 3 Comments »

Our ability to reach unity in diversity will be the beauty and the test of our civilization. My only question is, will we pass that test? (Steve Goodier)

“Hi!” my neighbor shouts.

I wave and smile. No need to say more.

He is jogging with his dog. I am carrying groceries.

Simple-world things,

no action either of us needs to remember.

The painted work of my granddaughter speaks for us.

One humanity. May I act with awareness

of both the inside and outside of anyone

who walks inside and outside

my accepting, integrated circle,

until someday all understand.

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