h a p p i n e s s
,,, is
,,,,,,,, a
,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, wave
,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, h
,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, a
,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, p
,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, p
,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, i
,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, n
,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, e
,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, s
,,,,,,,,,,,, s
waves back
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Thursday, November 26, 2009
shape/spatial poem attempt #1
twice I have been given a gift ... twice
blessed, born once: tethered; born anew
called forth, amazed, mother (ing) my absent child
yet mother I was mother I am thus
born(e) over to ongoing being born
twice given a gift, I yield more, much more than twice
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
these moments
these moments
when we meet
soul to soul
speaking
a language of the heart
offering
its quiet
unflinching
defiance of time & space
embracing
these moments
when words trust
& glances
lay bare the finest parts of self
I never thought I'd know
these moments
Friday, November 20, 2009
Spock on the Rock: Fan fiction attempt # 1
" What're ya at, b'y ! "
Six sets of eyes stare back at Spock as if he had just uttered an unseemly profanity .... or one of his typical preposterous proclamations. McCoy breaks the amazed silence, muttering about why they bothered bringing this green-blooded son of a bitch back from the dead, anyway. McCoy is good with profanity, and since Spock's resurrection, he has been most appreciative of the Vulcan's efforts in this regard.
"Mr.Spock," says Uhura, gently, " I have no idea what you just said."
" Aye, lad, " this is Scotty, " maybe the temporal shifting has affected your thought processes."
McCoy snorts, ready to protest Scotty's presumption at diagnosis, but Kirk intervenes
" Spock, what did you just say?"
Spock surveys them all impassively, these friends to whom he owes so much,
" Contrary to your admonition on landing, Captain, this is NOT a paranoid and primitive culture.... indeed, the natives I have encountered so far are candid, forthright and helpful. 'What're ya at, b'y' is a form of ingenuous inquiry into one's well being. I have been asked this by at least a dozen passengers on this ferry."
" Absolutely, " Chekov pipes up, " I have been asked the same thing by three people."
" And I can confirm that as well, sir," Sulu chimes in.
" It's Jim, Spock, Jim..... well, we've obviously lucked out with this choice of boat." Kirk rubs his hands together and hugs himself vigourously. They are rapidly leaving behind the small island where they landed and cloaked the ship a few hours ago. The ferry they boarded is on its way to Portugal Cove, whatever that means. We're going to have to find a native to help us, Kirk muses, but, damn, the first thing we need is warm clothing!
" How is it that we are here shivering on the deck of this boat? "Kirk asks, bewildered that his all star crew somehow managed to miss the temperature detail in their research on this place. Newfoundland. He hopes the name is a harbinger.
" We were accurate on the temperature, Captain, " Scotty offers " but it's not the cold, sir, it's the damp...."
then the flurry begins....
"......and the wind
.....and the spray
......and is that an iceberg off in the distance? "
" I don't care what you say, it's the cold" McCoy again, " and we aren't used to it. We've got to get more layers. Spock, can't we get some information from one of your helpful natives?"
" Indeed, Doctor, a most logical suggestion, although I find the air and the wind to be ...bracing, exhilarating " Spock sniffs deeply at the salt air and lifts his chest to the breeze.
McCoy shakes his head. Kirk looks thoughtfully at his first officer and friend. Sometimes Spock is full of surprises. Like now-- he waves to a young woman on the opposite side of the boat. She waves back and makes her way toward them, her long, dark hair whipping in the wind, her hands stuffed into the pockets of her hip length parka.
" May I present Miss Darlene Hickey. Miss Hickey is from .... Torbay? " Spock glances at her for confirmation " ... Torbay."
"What're ya at, b'ys... " says Darlene, who seems impervious to the strangeness of this group huddled together for warmth, and the cold that's got them huddling. " Dontcha have coats where yer from ? "
" We... miscalculated ," Kirk says, and rapid fire, assigns tasks to his crew.... "Sulu and Uhura, find out the name of the place where we parked the ship. Scotty and Chekov, see if you can find out where we can find an engineer or marine biologist from this century." Darlene Hickey gives Spock a look; with a slight incline of her head in Kirk's direction she mouths "is he fer real?" Spock nods imperceptibly. Darlene sighs. " Once we're ashore, I'll call some of my buds and we'll getcha set up, no time. Then I s'pose we'll go to the mall and you can buy whatcha need."
" We are most grateful. Miss Hickey, " says Chekov.
" No prawblem," she says back, " and call me Darlene. Why're ya here anyway?"
" We are looking for whales, lass" Scotty offers, " we've heard that you have abundant marine life here."
" Ya heard right, " Darlene says " we got a whole ocean around us here. Are ya sure it's whales yer after, though? why wouldja be needin' whales?"
She watches as the group passes a glance around their huddle... more here than meets the eye, Darlene surmises. They seem alright, though, for mainlanders. Clearly, they're not from here.
" It's a long story, Darlene, " the one called Kirk speaks right at her. She's also heard them call him 'Captain'. Captain of what, she wonders; it sure as hell isn't a boat.
Kirk, McCoy and Spock stay put while the others go their way investigating. They gaze out over the frothy wash behind the ferry. Darlene leans on her elbows against the railing, looking them over.
" Spock," Kirk says quietly, " how did you meet this woman?"
" She approached me very soon after we boarded the ferry, Captain, " Spock speaks earnestly, " she said she was sure she recognized us from a something she called .... television ??"
" We'll get Uhura to look into it," Kirk says," and it's Jim, Spock, ... Jim." His crew is re-assembling, passing on the information they have gleaned from their stroll around the boat. Kirk clears his throat and approaches Darlene.
"Jim, " says McCoy, leaning close to Kirk, " now, for god's sakes, just ask the damn questions and forget the charm. "
" Bones," says Kirk, " I'm hurt.... Miss Hickey, Darlene... we could use a .... knowledgeable person to help us out. We're on a research expedition and we don't know our way around....
No shit, Darlene says to herself, but listens, all the same.
Kirk again.... we need to find a place called the Marine Lab...
Darlene nods
...and is it true that this boat makes regular trips back and forth to ... to ....
" Bell Island," Darlene asserts, " named for its shape," ya eedjit, she says under her breath. She shakes her head, catches Spock's eye and winks.
" We're just about to dock, here, now, " Darlene says, " then we'll g'wan up to the store."
"What's up there? " a chorus of asks
" The pay phone, b'y! ya got any other way to get in touch with people ? "
Six sets of eyes stare back at her. She waits a beat. " Alright, then, let's get 'er done ..."
Let's get 'er done, McCoy mouths silently and gazes at Kirk. Kirk glances at Spock, his unspoken request for a translation.
" I believe Miss Hickey is proposing that we proceed in as timely a fashion as possible, " Spock catches Darlene's eye. She gives him a sly, shy smile.
" Very well, Miss Hickey .... er, Darlene ," Kirk hastily revises in the wake of Darlene's glare,
and, with his best characteristic bow and twinkle, says " we place ourselves in your capable hands."
... to be continued.....
Six sets of eyes stare back at Spock as if he had just uttered an unseemly profanity .... or one of his typical preposterous proclamations. McCoy breaks the amazed silence, muttering about why they bothered bringing this green-blooded son of a bitch back from the dead, anyway. McCoy is good with profanity, and since Spock's resurrection, he has been most appreciative of the Vulcan's efforts in this regard.
"Mr.Spock," says Uhura, gently, " I have no idea what you just said."
" Aye, lad, " this is Scotty, " maybe the temporal shifting has affected your thought processes."
McCoy snorts, ready to protest Scotty's presumption at diagnosis, but Kirk intervenes
" Spock, what did you just say?"
Spock surveys them all impassively, these friends to whom he owes so much,
" Contrary to your admonition on landing, Captain, this is NOT a paranoid and primitive culture.... indeed, the natives I have encountered so far are candid, forthright and helpful. 'What're ya at, b'y' is a form of ingenuous inquiry into one's well being. I have been asked this by at least a dozen passengers on this ferry."
" Absolutely, " Chekov pipes up, " I have been asked the same thing by three people."
" And I can confirm that as well, sir," Sulu chimes in.
" It's Jim, Spock, Jim..... well, we've obviously lucked out with this choice of boat." Kirk rubs his hands together and hugs himself vigourously. They are rapidly leaving behind the small island where they landed and cloaked the ship a few hours ago. The ferry they boarded is on its way to Portugal Cove, whatever that means. We're going to have to find a native to help us, Kirk muses, but, damn, the first thing we need is warm clothing!
" How is it that we are here shivering on the deck of this boat? "Kirk asks, bewildered that his all star crew somehow managed to miss the temperature detail in their research on this place. Newfoundland. He hopes the name is a harbinger.
" We were accurate on the temperature, Captain, " Scotty offers " but it's not the cold, sir, it's the damp...."
then the flurry begins....
"......and the wind
.....and the spray
......and is that an iceberg off in the distance? "
" I don't care what you say, it's the cold" McCoy again, " and we aren't used to it. We've got to get more layers. Spock, can't we get some information from one of your helpful natives?"
" Indeed, Doctor, a most logical suggestion, although I find the air and the wind to be ...bracing, exhilarating " Spock sniffs deeply at the salt air and lifts his chest to the breeze.
McCoy shakes his head. Kirk looks thoughtfully at his first officer and friend. Sometimes Spock is full of surprises. Like now-- he waves to a young woman on the opposite side of the boat. She waves back and makes her way toward them, her long, dark hair whipping in the wind, her hands stuffed into the pockets of her hip length parka.
" May I present Miss Darlene Hickey. Miss Hickey is from .... Torbay? " Spock glances at her for confirmation " ... Torbay."
"What're ya at, b'ys... " says Darlene, who seems impervious to the strangeness of this group huddled together for warmth, and the cold that's got them huddling. " Dontcha have coats where yer from ? "
" We... miscalculated ," Kirk says, and rapid fire, assigns tasks to his crew.... "Sulu and Uhura, find out the name of the place where we parked the ship. Scotty and Chekov, see if you can find out where we can find an engineer or marine biologist from this century." Darlene Hickey gives Spock a look; with a slight incline of her head in Kirk's direction she mouths "is he fer real?" Spock nods imperceptibly. Darlene sighs. " Once we're ashore, I'll call some of my buds and we'll getcha set up, no time. Then I s'pose we'll go to the mall and you can buy whatcha need."
" We are most grateful. Miss Hickey, " says Chekov.
" No prawblem," she says back, " and call me Darlene. Why're ya here anyway?"
" We are looking for whales, lass" Scotty offers, " we've heard that you have abundant marine life here."
" Ya heard right, " Darlene says " we got a whole ocean around us here. Are ya sure it's whales yer after, though? why wouldja be needin' whales?"
She watches as the group passes a glance around their huddle... more here than meets the eye, Darlene surmises. They seem alright, though, for mainlanders. Clearly, they're not from here.
" It's a long story, Darlene, " the one called Kirk speaks right at her. She's also heard them call him 'Captain'. Captain of what, she wonders; it sure as hell isn't a boat.
Kirk, McCoy and Spock stay put while the others go their way investigating. They gaze out over the frothy wash behind the ferry. Darlene leans on her elbows against the railing, looking them over.
" Spock," Kirk says quietly, " how did you meet this woman?"
" She approached me very soon after we boarded the ferry, Captain, " Spock speaks earnestly, " she said she was sure she recognized us from a something she called .... television ??"
" We'll get Uhura to look into it," Kirk says," and it's Jim, Spock, ... Jim." His crew is re-assembling, passing on the information they have gleaned from their stroll around the boat. Kirk clears his throat and approaches Darlene.
"Jim, " says McCoy, leaning close to Kirk, " now, for god's sakes, just ask the damn questions and forget the charm. "
" Bones," says Kirk, " I'm hurt.... Miss Hickey, Darlene... we could use a .... knowledgeable person to help us out. We're on a research expedition and we don't know our way around....
No shit, Darlene says to herself, but listens, all the same.
Kirk again.... we need to find a place called the Marine Lab...
Darlene nods
...and is it true that this boat makes regular trips back and forth to ... to ....
" Bell Island," Darlene asserts, " named for its shape," ya eedjit, she says under her breath. She shakes her head, catches Spock's eye and winks.
" We're just about to dock, here, now, " Darlene says, " then we'll g'wan up to the store."
"What's up there? " a chorus of asks
" The pay phone, b'y! ya got any other way to get in touch with people ? "
Six sets of eyes stare back at her. She waits a beat. " Alright, then, let's get 'er done ..."
Let's get 'er done, McCoy mouths silently and gazes at Kirk. Kirk glances at Spock, his unspoken request for a translation.
" I believe Miss Hickey is proposing that we proceed in as timely a fashion as possible, " Spock catches Darlene's eye. She gives him a sly, shy smile.
" Very well, Miss Hickey .... er, Darlene ," Kirk hastily revises in the wake of Darlene's glare,
and, with his best characteristic bow and twinkle, says " we place ourselves in your capable hands."
... to be continued.....
Monday, November 16, 2009
Palindrome.... soon too soon
soon
too
soon
was
sighing
sand dance
sifting soothing
smoothing
sifting soothing
sand dance
sighing
was
soon
too
soon
Friday, November 13, 2009
Dark Knight
It's my turn to get my name.
Gabriel, my colleague, has long since taken on the task of assigning each of us a cartoon or fantasy character suited to our personality. My department does this every December at our greedy gift exchange. Gabriel named himself first : Batman, and on from there through my other colleagues.... Wonder Woman, Captain America, Porky Pig, the Energizer Bunny...
this year, I'm up.
I'm perversely excited because I am a bit of a pariah in my home unit... not exactly a model citizen. I'm hoping for a character appropriate to my mission.Greedy gifts done, paper and ribbon piled high, cutlery and food remains scattered over the table. Gabriel stands to his full 6'5" and the light from the window catches the shine on his magnificent bald head. He stands there, majestic, our dark knight. I say a small, silent prayer of thanks that he is not wearing lycra. He clears his throat.... the drum roll.
H......, you are Buttercup, queen of the powder puff girls.
My face feels like it is falling in on itself. I wish I was a cat... I would do that thing with my ears that cats do when they're pissed off. If my face were a hand, it would be a fist; if my face were a sky, it would be a thunder cloud. I'm horrified. How could he have made such a huge miscalculation?
I gaze at the expectant, happy faces. It's my chance to be grateful, and my joy is taking far too long.
Instead, I move my wrapping paper around the table; a ribbon falls and I lean over and pick it up. I fiddle with it, examining the lovely play of colour by the light of the window. I place it on the table next to my fork, and I gaze at my fork, weighing its potential as a weapon. I fold my hands in my lap and I look up, my forehead betraying my consternation.Gabriel knows. They all know.
I sigh.
Gabriel, my colleague, has long since taken on the task of assigning each of us a cartoon or fantasy character suited to our personality. My department does this every December at our greedy gift exchange. Gabriel named himself first : Batman, and on from there through my other colleagues.... Wonder Woman, Captain America, Porky Pig, the Energizer Bunny...
this year, I'm up.
I'm perversely excited because I am a bit of a pariah in my home unit... not exactly a model citizen. I'm hoping for a character appropriate to my mission.Greedy gifts done, paper and ribbon piled high, cutlery and food remains scattered over the table. Gabriel stands to his full 6'5" and the light from the window catches the shine on his magnificent bald head. He stands there, majestic, our dark knight. I say a small, silent prayer of thanks that he is not wearing lycra. He clears his throat.... the drum roll.
H......, you are Buttercup, queen of the powder puff girls.
My face feels like it is falling in on itself. I wish I was a cat... I would do that thing with my ears that cats do when they're pissed off. If my face were a hand, it would be a fist; if my face were a sky, it would be a thunder cloud. I'm horrified. How could he have made such a huge miscalculation?
I gaze at the expectant, happy faces. It's my chance to be grateful, and my joy is taking far too long.
Instead, I move my wrapping paper around the table; a ribbon falls and I lean over and pick it up. I fiddle with it, examining the lovely play of colour by the light of the window. I place it on the table next to my fork, and I gaze at my fork, weighing its potential as a weapon. I fold my hands in my lap and I look up, my forehead betraying my consternation.Gabriel knows. They all know.
I sigh.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Remembering friends, long gone
Suicide
no more night
quite the ride
suicide
down the slide
gone, the fight
suicide
no more night
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Triolet : Four
You searched for me
I hoped for you
You wrote to see
You searched for me
Words are the key
Honesty, too
You searched for me
I hoped for you
Thursday, November 5, 2009
On another early morning.... triolet
what's a night owl to do
when she just can't say no
when the sleeps are too few
what's a night owl to do
she'll admit it's not new
that you reap what you sow
what's a night owl to do
when she just can't say no
when she just can't say no
when the sleeps are too few
what's a night owl to do
she'll admit it's not new
that you reap what you sow
what's a night owl to do
when she just can't say no
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