Queen of the May


Queen of the May-CHARLIE (3)


An elephant in heat is called  Must

Fertility demands union, life is a must.

Men desire women with an intensity that is molecular

(No wonder men wanted to call God ” He”)

Spring is a good time for compassion

So  give “him ” a break,  nodding to the mystery,

A skip in the park.


(For Charlie this Beltane)

No Organicism is Separate from Another


Mom's irises (2)

When I was a girl, The Silent Spring was published, written by Rachel Carson,

who wove  together her  abilities ,

beautiful writing with an understanding of deep science,

She was single parent and attacked by the powerful and at the end, very ill

Yet, she woke up the world to an awareness that DDT was killing the birds

Hers was the first voice heard, we had no idea of  remote consequences

Of poisons permeating delicate ecosystems.

Women became warriors, I saw it in  my mother.


RC  “The stream of time moves forward and mankind moves with it.

Our generation must come to terms with the environment.

We must face realities instead of taking refuge in ignorance and evasion of truth.

Ours is a grave and sobering responsibility, but it is also a shining opportunity.

We go out into a world where mankind is challenged, as it has never been challenged before, to prove its maturity and its mastery — not of nature, but of itself.
Therein lies our hope and our destiny.”   EARTH DAY 2019

We are in Need of a Time Together

mom's spirit body 2

When my mother died she  was whisked away in a black bag

within an hour of her death, taken by people we did not know.

She wanted her body to be given to Science ( whoever that is)

Years later, still stricken, my brother and I have a confusing relationship,

Could it be that this lack of  ritual  upon her death  has severed us?

Big things happen  so fast  and become unconscious so quickly.

We hardly know the cause of our pain.

Didn’t Mary Magdalene freak out when the tomb was empty?

Oil and cardamom spice, flower petals and cornmeal.


Come June, the three of us , who shared womb space,

Will pile high upon a plate, our mother’s ashes,

Blessedly returned, thank goodness.

For we are in need of a time together

to just be with her and each other.

Narrative Medicine

Rest well on paper (2)

In a semi state of ever repeating karma

friendly and  familiar,  in a well knit cocoon, we drift

Like the matrix but the thing is…..

Right before it all begins again

We can choose our narrative

the sand in my mouth has become a pearl.








Odd Children

odd children

John told me about a  TV show about a wealthy man

Who adopts six odd children with super powers

The children grow up, the man dies

And they need to find ways to work together

to save the world (of course)

Then John quietly added, “They have to try,

Like us, despite their dysfunction, they have to try”

Fists unfurled, we have to try.

The odds are great and ego( separated mind) is strong so just bring it along for the ride.


Staying Warm


cement girl

The sweater that was meant to keep me warm
is tattered, no longer functional, I shiver
Thoughts like missiles, hurl you away from me
I  am causal and blind  to it
Preferring my perfect incriminations,
Who doesn’t love being “right”
Useless pile of yarn, useless sacrifice
I shiver.
Maybe I can take up knitting
a woven pattern of darks and lights

unraveling what  has been excluded.

Will you remind me if I forget?

Heavy Handed Tale of Woe!

Devil and her hands

We  women ( and everyone) are handless in a new way

The men aren’t “taking care of us”, we make our own money.

But our hands hold a ghost, a phone

A screen, a scroll  (as if we are “doing” something)

While our creativity waits, impatiently

For us to put down the devise, but do we?

Ghosts with no poems to our name, disappearing

Belittled, shrunken and denied

by the wizard of technology, the big kid on the block.

It’s a subtle form of diminishment, feminists unite!


In the tale of the Handless Maiden

The devil temps her father by  mechanizing his mill for greater profits.

But you don’t get something for nothing

The devil gets the daughter’s hands( her creativity)

The feminine suffers ( but it has a happy ending)