September 23, 2015 in Coping, Poetry, Reflections, Thoughts
sanity
the shattered glass reflects
a thousand images
where lies reality?
the ordered world breaks down
into a random spray of neurons
matter over mind
free radical chaos
sanity is a dangling rope
reach out, grab it and
hold on for dear life
September 3, 2015 in Of the World, Poetry, Reflections, Thoughts
the red and the black
young vibrant soul
in red skirt and
black top
if only we could
push the pause button,
freeze life’s frame,
and keep horror
at bay
red was the color
she wore…
red
for energy, passion,
embracing the world
black was the color
she wore…
black
for the mysterious,
the unknowable
red was
the blood that flowed
unstanched
in its final
ebbing tide
black is
the empty void
that gapes where
sunlight once
danced and played
such a senseless
act is beyond
our understanding.
the image of her
life affirming
smile is not
with black
we mourn the life
taken
with red
we remember the life
lived
August 4, 2015 in Happenings, Poetry, Reflections, Thoughts
hey, comeback kid!
after all these years,
your dreams and desires
put off, sitting
on the back burner,
but simmering,
ever simmering…
how sweet is it
now to clench a fist
and whisper low
in affirmation
‘I am back!’
‘by God, I am back!’?
July 26, 2015 in Happenings, Poetry, Reflections, Thoughts
the blank page
the white space, void of words
would return my stare
and seem to ask
with fingers drumming,
‘Well?’
its opaque nothingness
would leave me
tongue-tied,
twisting in fear,
irrationally wishing for the
words to suddenly appear,
for the ink to magically flow
yet…
I would carry the blank page
with me through the day
and at intervals remove
from my pocket and unfold,
hoping for a different result
but it was always the same –
the judgmental air,
the mocking tone,
the pounding pulse
at long last,
at rope’s end
my dander up,
I cried out
‘what the fuck do you know?
after all, you are nothing!’
the blank page
replied
with…
silence
a silence so profound
that it overwhelmed me
and enveloped me
in a delicious stillness
I stared
at the white screen
and felt it reflect
its glow upon me
it was a light pregnant with
ideas yet to be born,
words yet to be shaped
I just had to chill out
and let the ink flow
I broke out in laughter
at the realization that
the blank page was
and always had been…
my friend
July 23, 2015 in Happenings, Nature's Backyard, Poetry, Thoughts
morning
the gray cloud cover hangs low
as it meanders and rolls by
like a sympathetic hand
to stroke and sooth the waiting earth
on the patio
a bird flutters and splashes
in the rippling fountain
life is good
November 17, 2014 in Nature's Backyard, Poetry, Reflections, Thoughts
Autumn in Eaten Canyon Photo by Patsy Faragher
This poem was inspired by a photograph taken by my sister,
Patsy Faragher
Eaton Canyon… still, peaceful canyon
Tucked between mountains to the north
And foothills to the south
Safe from the ever encroaching sprawl
Eaton Creek’s cold, clear water
Dropping fifty feet over rocky fall
Then streaming gently in quiet meander,
To flow into Rio Hondo, destined for the sea.
In the crisp autumn air we walk
Following well trodden path that for millennia
Knew the shuffling gait of grizzly
And light-footed step of moccasin and sandal
Veering off the trail now, we find a secret shady spot
Under a scruffy little California oak
That streams dappled sunlight through its canopy.
Beneath its branches, the leaf and rock strewn ground
Is aglow and sparkling… ocher, gold, silver, green…
A harvest basket of color
The tree knows about life
It has seen fire,
It has seen flood
It has thrived in nature’s bountiful seasons
And hunkered down to survive through the lean.
Listen to the silence. Focus on the silence.
To our assaulted ears it is overpowering
We may hear the soft rustling sounds of wildlife,
Creatures that hear us as we breath
Creatures keenly aware of our presence.
Listen even deeper…
Do you hear… in the breeze
The low dreamy murmur of female voices?
Tongva women speaking and laughing
As they gather acorn for meal
And wiregrass for weaving,
Dipping and filling water baskets in the stream
Oh, that we could linger here in this spot.
We must dip our basket into its essence
Take it along to nourish our souls,
Knowing we will soon be back to replenish
November 4, 2014 in Nature's Backyard, Poetry
a dry spell ends –
the drenched earth exhales
a sigh of satisfaction
After the rain. L. A., California, November,2014 – Photo by Patsy Faraghera sigh of satisfaction
parched lips that feared
this blessed day
would never come to pass
now give voice
to joyous song with
moistened words of thankfulness
the squatter weeds
will seize the chance to
pose as lush and verdant guests
’til summer heat returns
to wither and expose their
hidden cache of thorn and sticker
and the sun resolves
‘enough’s enough!’ and vows
again to re-impose his reign supreme
04/27/14
October 7, 2014 in Poetry, Scrolling Back, Thoughts, Uncategorized
Singing Our Mother Farewell
we raised up our voices and held grief at bay
singing our mother good-bye
siblings united on a sad mournful day
singing our mother good-bye
we sang as we sailed o’er an ocean of tears
singing our mother farewell
and the cries of the sobbing surf played in our ears
singing our mother farewell
we sang ’til the sun disappeared from the sky
singing our mother on home
and angels in heaven could hear our good-bye
as we sang our mother on home
Mary Louise Faragher
August 27, 2014 in Happenings, Poetry, Reflections
the poet
she reveals herself in increments
of verse upon a printed page.
brief snapshots – human moments
imprinted on the reader’s brain.
the vulnerability of the words
belies the boldness of the art.
her longings become our longings,
her loneliness ours to share.
each poem is a point of light
discernable to our eye even among
the million others gleaming
in the chill air of an urban night scape
August 14, 2014 in Coping, Poetry, Reflections, Thoughts
my mark
to make my mark… to be seen and heard
was my purpose, my desire
to blaze like a meteor across the sky
so young, so full of fire
but with the years I’ve shed this edgy
need to prove that I exist
watching, listening, I now hear and see
the myriad things that I have missed
‘hit your mark and tell the truth.’ –
so said the actor sage
it resonates less in the heat of youth
than in the cool of age
