Saturday, February 28, 2015

End of February....Whooshhhhhh!

Eeek, where did this month go?

One place it didn't go was to my hips! Still on my 5:2 Diet, and currently down 15 lbs. Five more pounds to make my 2015 goal. But I think I'm going to set a new 5 lb. goal after that, just to get rid of the belly fat. Yeah, yeah, I know, but I just would like a little wiggle room on the Maintenance diet.

The memoir is also puffing along, not quite as fast as February, but getting there....thanks to the help of the Writer's Group who continues to be stellar!

I only have three weeks of bowling left, so looks like my average will not reach 150, alas. I missed last week, due to a luncheon/fashion show I attended with friends. Ohmigod, nothing like a crowded room full of women's voices, over-50 style polyester outfits modeled by way over-50 models, and of course they ran out of chicken salad before our table got served. Would I ever miss bowling again for this? Make book on it!

My friends in Massachusetts are still getting snow. I must count my blessings. It's been a cold winter in Florida...but nothing like the winter up north this year. I would rather put needles in my eyes than live in that stuff again.

and I guess it's past time to put up my lame old February poem -- but here we go anyway: (Hope you had a sweet Valentines)


A buncha malarkey; a terrific load of Mad Ave crap,
Valentine’s Day is a great big scam. I wasn’t born
with an arrow in my chest, and if I see red, it isn’t edged

with lace. My mama didn’t raise no Whitman Sampler boxes,
with empty brown papers for brains. BonBons are no substitute
for the smell of sweat on a man’s work shirt in the hamper,

or his paycheck in my clenched fist on rent day. I remember looking
into his chocolate colored eyes, wanting to dissolve, dive into the silky shine.
I longed to sit liquid, yearned to swim like a marischino cherry in them.

Oh sweet Jesus, I am here to tell you, without all the intricate macrame
of Love, I have woven a life where promises are always kept, tears are few;
Eyes opened, heart closed. If you show me a Man then I’ll show you the door.

Forget that face with the craggy lines, his blue eye fire incandescent in my groin,
No, sweet Sanity has struck me cold, made me stone That is not for me
Not for me, by Golly. Not for me. Not on your sweet life. You can bet your bippy,

I’m just fine. But.dammit!

In February, floating in the vapor of memory’s clouds,
misting my resolve, are the shimmering spangles that gleam sweet,
tiny spaceships of passion, hovering, looking for a port.

Monday, February 23, 2015

Have You Noticed? (poem)

A choir of pink-faced boys,
Lace collars,
O-shaped mouths,
showing tiny teeth,
Eyes lifted, O Lord!
Their scorpion tails
Waving hypnotics
beneath their robes.

The tears of Dr. Frankinstein
(killed by his own creation)
slide down the vials
of DNA, while Dolly
bleats for her mother.
See the lit torches amassed
at the windows of the labs
and clinics. Pro-lifers
at a prey-or meeting.

Beware the wife
with a lodger in her head!
(that original thought, dissenting view,
an opinion not shared by the rest of you?)
Call her a whore or a minister,
but silence her thought
with a sing-along.
And let the bedbugs bite.

Wednesday, February 18, 2015

Public Television (poem)

(Easter Sunday 1998)

Alone in the dark room,
in the slanted light of the TV,
I cup my breast and sigh.

Prayers of Yo-Yo Ma
fall in memorium,
in honeyed colored
chords across the death
mask of his father.

Cello talk so steeped in Bach
that only dogs’ ears
& the dead can comprehend.

A dancer whirls in candlelight.

My own instrument
vibrates, clumsy & untuned,
like an armoire
of burled beech with frets.
The resined strings taut with grief
in my own fugue of melancholy.

The Kabuki dancer is a man,
dressed in women’s silk,
long pigtailed hair, crimson
mouth pursed in mock piety.

I want to climb into his empty
britches, reclaim my losses
in the name of Art,
wail like an alto sax
in a ceremony of truth.


Wednesday, February 11, 2015

After the Storm...

I had a couple of really tough years, and as is usual in such life throes, you lose some friends, sometimes lovers, and often go through periods of depression. All of that plus the loss of my house, my money and my peace of mind I have weathered, and now I think the storm has settled down to a roar.

2015 started out with resolutons (which in prior years I had abandoned as folly). But this year, with my intention high for Change, there are things happening.

I've lost 12 lbs. of the 20 lb. weight loss goal.

My writer's group, while off to a rocky start last year, has now congealed into the most terrific group of writers I've known in a long time. I mean special. There are a total of ten of us, and not one bad writer in the bunch. How's that for creating your experience?

My bowling average is almost at 130, with a goal of 150. Still nowhere near mastered, but definitely improved.

I had dinner with an old friend the other night and had forgotten what joy there is in real friendship with people you trust and love.

And most importantly, the memoir is humming along at a reasonable pace in the 2nd big draft where it's being converted to past tense.

Finally, I'm looking for part time work where my spirit is nurtured and my work applauded (instead of feeling abused and unappreciated.) I can't quit until I get a new job however. Still, I'm very proud that I was able to come up with this job and save myself from real destitution. We haven't prospered exactly, but doing OKAY!

Monday, February 2, 2015

The Theory of Everything

Got 46 minutes to spend on Changing Your Life?

Of course you may want to watch it 46 times or so.

Go On, Blow Your Own Mind, if you dare.

I had to followup and see who authored this, and what was his background. Here's the shocking website I found:

But I wouldn't let that stop me from watching the video. What a world!!!!