Sunday, February 27, 2011

Common Thread

To communicate or not is not in question
whether it is nobler to write
in poetry or prose
requires further examination.

Taste
what moves you.

Observe,
poke
outline and
tweak.

Revel in it.

Stitch boldly
or you will surely perish.
And your cord will fray
beneath the vines
its connection
reduced
to a thin strand.

Saturday, February 26, 2011

Quote of the Day

“Behave your way to success-Practice, Practice, Practice!”~ Dr. Phil McGraw


“If practice makes you perfect—Behavior should be added to the curriculum!” ~Cornelia DeDona

Saturday, February 19, 2011

The McDougall Diet

I took this class in the 80's.  Awesome program!

http://vimeo.com/2336834

Directing Fear

“Feel the fear and do it anyway” ~ Susan Jeffers



Today she showed them what she was made of.

She slowed her pace
found her focus
channeled her energy
allowed herself time to reason and
ignored negative impulses

today had been different.

Comfort didn’t concern her.

Comfort was a well-worn pair of shoes
seconds before the strap broke.

It seeped from her consciousness
trickled down her back
and found warmth in a well-worn hollow
signaling an explicit riposte
from the trenches.

Friday, February 18, 2011

Childhood Home

Home meant different things at different ages. Music highlighted the various stages of my growing awareness. Let’s just say The Beatles reigned in Tillson Elementary School. At eleven, I can still remember the cute boys, the portable record player and the songs we danced to outside during recess. I remember riding home in the back seat of the school bus bouncing high every time we hit a bump on the twisting old country roads, my friends and I giggling in our bright new clothes just picked up from layaway at Sears and J.C. Penney, my long straight brown hair tied back in a ponytail and fastened with a matching colored band.

I woke up early during school days. It got really cold in the winter in upstate New York. The old furnace in the basement only managed to warm up the downstairs. The upstairs bedrooms were another story. The feather down comforter that grandma sent from Germany, pulled up to my chin, was all that protected me from the frigid air. I would lay out my school clothes the night before, dress, tights, shoes all neatly arranged, and  pull them on as quickly as I could. Goosebumps would cover my arms and legs on those mornings. I loved having my own room. I had my own portable TV and Stereo where I could practice singing, She Loves You and I Want To Hold Your Hand, into my hairbrush each night. The door had a floor length mirror, so I could inspect myself before I went downstairs. My sisters had to share a room down the hall; being the eldest had its advantages.

Dad  usually left the hall window partially cranked open. I could see my breath as I closed it each morning. The glass always had a layer of frost on it. The black banister would shake from us girls sliding down it; at the bottom the post provided a landing. Sometimes if we hit it just right it would fall off and roll down the hall. Dad never got around to fixing it along with many other things that remained in a virtual state of unfinished; small things like baseboards without molding, wires suspended from the ceiling, the bathroom tub that needed a new hot water knob. We used a wrench to turn it on. It became a permanent fixture. I remember how my Mother would hound him about the closet doors in their bedroom that were never hung. One time he bought Mom a dishwasher, but she only used it once, because he never found the time to get the necessary hook-up to permanently install it. The one time she did use it, he had jury rigged a hose from the back of the dishwasher to the kitchen faucet that he took off of the washing machine. He was always going to do it LATER. There was always some reason why he didn’t have time, or couldn’t get the necessary part. He always had a truckload of excuses, like the neighbor needed his expert help with a project. This usually started another argument about getting PAID for all that help, which he never did.

Poor Mom, she did her best to supplement Dad’s salary and feed and clothe her three girls. She went to work after my sister Angie was born and still hasn’t stopped. I was seven years old and I remember this because I was elected to babysit my two year old sister for twenty minutes, five days a week, until Dad got home. She started as a night cleaning lady in an office building and now at seventy five, she still works part-time preparing salads at the deli in the local supermarket, three days a week.

Meanwhile Dad retired thirty five years ago, stating that there wasn’t anything suitable for someone with HIS qualifications. Mom waited over fifty years for him to finish this and that, and now she has to beg her sons-in-law, because Dad has dementia. He thinks the neighbors are trying to steal his identity. He still drinks too. On a recent visit I took to see them, Angie and I caught Dad acting completely normal when he was out spending time with friends. Mom is still in denial about everything. She says that it’s too late, she can’t leave him now. My other sister chalks it up to LOVE. Wow, all I can say is, “If that’s love, Mom’s a NUN!” Today’s song would have to be, Call Me When You’re Sober by Evanescense, I learned early on exactly what I did and didn’t want my home life to turn out like.



Sunday, February 13, 2011

Six Word Memoirs for Valentine’s Day


Mint chocolate hearts
savor fresh kisses.

Love willingly skates
backwards through tunnel.

Conversation in most
marriages equals hurdle.

Success in marriage
jumps boundless obstacles.

Relaxed couples reconcile
his and hers.

Surrender in marriage
recognizes who’s boss!

Men drip intelligence
Women glow restraint.

Be my Valentine
dance through life.





Thursday, February 10, 2011

The Barometer

The Barometer


slowly drops
on a frosty trucker
at a snowed under rest stop
howling for a cup of Joe and
longing for lost serenity while
steering through endless back water towns.

Flashbacks pan on persistent billboards
empty promises on the I-95 and
daydreams of a midnight rendezvous
beneath a star speckled
blanket on a lonely Valentine’s night.

Melting briefly midday
as the pressure begins its hopeful rise on
the whim of a fresh faced
adventurer
with a hall pass
thumbing for a ride

and artfully dropped soon after
behind
a dinghy diner
forecasting more
frigid, pale,
and foul weather.

Thursday, February 3, 2011

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Just Thinking


Just write something. Don’t over analyze
or dramatize. You are so wise
in that disguise the one that you bring
to the table. The table with the leftovers
warmed over, dried on, caked and baked
a dubious pleasure what a treasure
for the tummy it isn’t funny when

you need the Rolaids.

Because you swallowed
a patch of green in a mean
everything bagel that you left out in

the damp a bit too long

And I could hum along
to the song of plop plop fizz fizz
Oh-what a relief it is, remember
the Brioski
that we,
kept
next to the pink Pepto
Bismol, fizzing in a glass
that in one gulp
we drank straight?

It couldn’t wait until morning
it was never boring.

Oh the sass
of the lass and the lad
making whoopee
beneath a dark marquee

while a row of chimneys streamed

black smoke we choked
on the sound
passed another round
of Rolling Stones and
exhaled peace for our brother’s
bones

in Viet Nam

a flashback scene
in a hippy dream
condemning the Man
and making a stand.

You know what I mean
jellybean?

New Additions


Photobucket


Tommy and Connie
Buy Rocky and Apollo
Bull Mastiff brothers.



Monday, January 31, 2011

Oh Juliet, my pet!

Photobucket


Photobucket

Land dwelling reptiles
take their vows seriously
grabbing a quick lunch
Romeo and Juliet
are committed newlyweds.

Sunday, January 30, 2011

Pro Bowl 2011


Pro
Football
excites fans
fuels aloha
brings the NFL back to Hawaii.


Tetractys

Line 1: 1 Syllables
Line 2: 2 Syllables
Line 3: 3 Syllables
Line 4: 4 Syllables
Line 5: 10 Syllables


Saturday, January 29, 2011

Divisive



The stranger's
snide remarks

disturb the
old Hawaiian
whose
easy-going
lifestyle
paints a surreal
cross stitch
of paradise

insulting
fixed legends of
home sweet home
and soft
places to land.

Friday, January 28, 2011

Winter

Winter


tracks in wet snow

and proceeds to stash
his cousin slush
beneath the floor mat.

The blowhard

then
howls at the dog
who vigorously shakes

and pees

on a pinging baseboard.

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Blueline Poetry • View topic - XVIII.23 Red String Thingy

Blueline Poetry • View topic - XVIII.23 Red String Thingy

An itsy bitsy red string thingy
melded with a crafty dinghy
Feather light twisted free, stiff
winds tossed it mute across
the flat as glassy
sea. Defiant
seductive
two-piece
she.

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Hey Sis

Did you ever scream
in a silent room

trace a smile
In the gloom

exhale smoke
in frosty air

play hop scotch
fake a dare

eat fresh snow
beneath a tree

cross your heart
squat and pee?

Sunday, January 23, 2011

Need to Know?

If you could

turn back time

Would you

trace the line
of my behind
in your mind

exposed?

OR

strain resigned
to define
these curvy lines

reposed?

Saturday, January 22, 2011

Memory--sedoka

Dim memory waits

beneath heavy comforter
pregnant with expectations.

Locked inside old trunk
between crinkled yellowed gowns
love letters wait for reply.

 
A sedoka consists of two unrhymed three-line stanzas, each with a syllable count of 5 - 7 - 7.

Often these stanzas go at the same subject from different perspectives, but that is not a requirement


Friday, January 21, 2011

Satisfaction

Juicy green orbs
gush
sweet obsession.

Thick dark
creamy squares
produce trance.

Crunchy
hot bites
ski down
saucy slope.

Whipped cream
yields stiff
architecture.

Lemon flower
belies
zesty arrival.

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Anguish

Cancer cracks façade
time looms like a guillotine
set to slice off tumor.

Doctors poke and prod
awaiting new test results
demands jug of faith.

Dad is tranquilized
Mom is a basket of nerves
Sister asks for help.

I busy my mind
picturing a good outcome
for this affliction.

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

I-Robot

I-Robot


am conscious and
out of the white-light zone.

I know that I am alive

that blue blood courses
through my veins. I know
that I require food and water
water mainly, to survive.
I know that this casing that I exist in
is designed to last one hundred years
give or take
and depending on how well
I read and follow the manual.

I know that I am meant to explore
my world and
get along with my fellow robots

I have been given a brain.

Sometimes it gets me into tight spaces.

I have something called health
a priceless commodity, more valuable than
gold, diamonds or oil.
I need shelter because my unit
will corrode if left out
in the elements too long.

I realize that there are lower life forms and
that they have been provided to
fulfill my nutritional requirements.
I have noticed that some units have different coloring
and features. I've noticed that some bow to different creators.

I know that the vast universe
has constructed a series of gates for me to open
as I learn new things and discover
important rules not found in the manual.

I know that I am alone, separate from my
fellow units and this distresses me.

I attempt to join with one and find that
he does not always share my thinking
on important issues, half of our time is spent
on finding middle ground.

Time is the other precious commodity
usually by the time we realize this
we have traveled quite far
in the wrong direction
and must back track.

I question my creator as to the fallacies I find.

Why do they exist?

Is that the point to this exercise?

Must we
fix
all of our own
leaks and flaws?
Must we manipulate and reprogram
our systems
Must we integrate and redefine
our priorities
to what end?

What is the reward for all this aggravation?

I find that I require further
incentive for this mission.

I need to know when we began
where and how we were created and WHY?
Was it ions ago on a robot ship out in space
OR on a distant planet called heaven?

Is our savior a higher form of robot?
Why must we wait for HIM?



Define reality?

Is reality a state of mind?

Do we really exist?

Is this a grand experiment gone worng?

Do we have souls?
Will our souls live foreverOr
or shall we simply die
returning to the earth
to be reborn again
perhaps as a lower life form
starting on a different rung
og the ladder
because we didn't learn the lesson yet?
OR
will we ultimately discover
long after our batteries reach
their expiration date
that we were just
tinker toys
constructed and then left to rust
in an alien child’s
imagination?

Monday, January 17, 2011

Not for the Faint of Heart

I feel a slam coming on!



Oh- So you THINK you are helping!
Let’s break that down

T as in testosterone fueled

H as in hairy beast

I as in insanity runs in your family

N as in Naturally if YOU had done it

K as in Bend OVER

FUCK as in I GOT YOUR THINKING RIGHT HERE!

Now why don’t you

Kiss it

Lick it

Rub it

Stick it

into the open and let some sun shine on it
and dry up some of that moldy shit
clogging those pipes.

I mean--it’s a rotten shame
to waste perfectly good material
on a primitive mind.
Get out of your cave--Neanderthal!


Careful now, don’t hurt yourself!
I wouldn’t want you to get a nose bleed.
Because you might get rickets or scurvy
by venturing into uncharted territory.
There is some nasty SHIT
out there.

One thing you have to
remember is to
protect yourself at all times!

Because hairy beasts
tend to congregate
in dark airless places.
And they THINK they
Know
EVERYTHING!

They KNEW THAT before

"you were even out of diapers"

before you learned how to "wipe the snot
out of your nose." They could teach a CLASS
on it. They don’t need DEGREES.
Because they got a degree in LIFE!

Baby
Doll face
Brat face
coochey coo
tootley too
blah blah
siss boom bah
la ti da

La ti dah?
Oh yeah
that was the bitch
you tricked
into believing
the lies that you spin.

Colorful lies

Alluring

Enticing

Dazzling

WAIT--- I need my shades.
WHEW--I can feel one coming on—NOW
that was too close.

Did you see that?
A fucking shooting star

Quick that one--NO-- OVER THERE!
Beautiful
Dangerous
HOT
Too hot for me
And so you see
that’s what I
THINK!

Sunday, January 16, 2011

The Foundation Class

*** I took a Basic Handgun Skills Class yesterday and highly recommend it to all my friends.
For more info: Koaservicesinc.com



When you’re a woman
and you hear the words
foundation class
the first thing that comes to mind
isn’t necessarily
the proper and safe
use of a handgun
but in this day
and age
it isn’t a bad thing
to learn.

Basic handgun skills train
you how to survive
a deadly encounter.

Sight alignment and trigger control
are the two most important things
to know when using a firearm.

You will learn to protect yourself by
carrying a knife
flashlight
and having pepper spray in your car.

This is the mark of a savvy woman.

Employing Ooda Loop
an acronym for

Observe

Orient

Decide

Act

and knowing how to break one
will prepare you for potential threats.

Proper mindset and being prepared
isn’t just for Girl Scouts
and terrorists.

These skills will keep you ALIVE.

Get out of the White--no perception zone
and into the yellow—relaxed awareness state.

Look around, use all of your senses.

Be alert.

FOCUS IN on your environment.
You may be AMAZED at
what you have been MISSING.

Saturday, January 15, 2011

True Grit—Cherita

The "Cherita" is a creation of ai li, the founding editor of "still: home for short verse," and now its independent e-zine offshoot "dew-on-line."


Cherita [pronounced CHAIR-rita] is the Malay word for story or tale. A Cherita consists of a single
stanza verse, followed by a two-line verse,
and then finishing with a three-line verse. It can be written solo or with up to three partners.
The Cherita tells a story.


True grit spoke possibilities.

It evoked rare things
like justice and fair play.

It introduced a shrewd anti-venom
because snakes and skeletons
tend to multiply within dense regions.

Friday, January 14, 2011

Eviction Notice

I am Mother Earth.

Stop pissing on me.

My trees are drenched
with your ooze.

Nasty children
always whining
why can’t you play
nicely
with one another?
I have tried my best
to show you
what will happen
if you don’t clean up
after yourselves.

You will have to suffer.

Look at my poor fish
and the water has turned
an ugly shade of brown.

OMG
there are huge plastic
islands floating
in the pacific,
further evidence
of your illegitimate offspring.

I’m waiting for your explanation.

There are mutilated and
mutated dead everywhere.

You want to see fireworks?

I’m afraid sending you
to your rooms
will not be stiff
enough punishment.

Do you hear me?

Your deliverance is coming.

Thursday, January 13, 2011

Published

I am published in the December 29th 2010 issue of Island Scene


a short story about when I first moved to Hawaii titled: Our New Home

http://www.islandscene.com/Article.aspx?id=4037&page=1

Habilitat Presents: Cornelia DeDona: Letters to a Prisoner

I will be on local TV in Hawaii in January, put this on your calendars and thanks for watching!
in case you miss it; click on this link it is the same as on TV
http://www.viddler.com/explore/habilitat/videos/35/


Habilitat Presents: Cornelia DeDona: Letters to a Prisoner


1/11/11 Tue 6:00 pm FOCUS 49

1/12/11 Wed 1:00 pm FOCUS 49

1/13/11 Thu 8:00 am OAHU 52

1/14/11 Fri 3:00 pm FOCUS 49

Home

Home
is what you're thirsty for
when life squeezes the kid
out of you.

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Agent


A

Genuinely

Erroneous

Nauseating

Travesty.


Poet

Prays

Orbit

Evokes

Tact.

Artist

Abstract

Radical

Tweaking

Image

Sculpting

Taste.

Monday, January 10, 2011

Witty Epitaph's 1-11

A dirty old man rests below
so loved his wiener
he named it Beau.

Here lies Lizzy Crass
her farts refrain
stench surpassed
a runaway train
into the prairie grass.

Sunday, January 9, 2011

Codependent

After Electricity

It is pre-dawn
the lights have just gone out
the cause as yet unknown.
Coffee thankfully
has been pre-set and brewed.
The hot-tub steams silently.
The still water beckons
as I plant my aching bones
settling into the sultry depth.

The roosters crow at distant stars
their raucous
contest continues
as the sun begins its ascent into
a cloudless blue, tinted with pink
and orange. The palms stand
stiffly at attention. The Ko’olau peaks
loom like ancient warriors, awaiting the
first battle cry. And I hunt and peck
one-handed, continuing on
as if nothing has happened.

There is still much work to be done.

The end of our era approaches.

After electricity our words
will remain housed within dusty tomes
temporarily stifled.

We will have to seek them out
search over hill and dale
for there was and still is, treasure there.

Saturday, January 8, 2011

Diseased Minds

Some days are easier.

The battle rages on
between self- doubt
and change. They are
taking bets on the side lines.
The odds are against us.



Listen up

patriots. We are at war.

The front lines need to stand firm.
There is no room for MIA thinking.
Every empty space needs to be filled
with tough love. We will not tolerate
deserters. Deserters will be rounded up and sent
back for another series of anti-venomous thinking shots.

Stand FIRM. Stay your ground.
Look them straight in the eye.

Terror lurks there!

They feel it too, beneath the slip
of darkness when there is no one to
turn to. It torments them with false
promises. It leaves them without a pillow
hungry, tattered and pasty.
Look at them. They are what remain
blankly staring at the yellowed pages
suffering through the holocaust and barking mad.

Thursday, January 6, 2011

Forgotten Age

Right this way

ladies and gentlemen.
You are about to be amazed
astounded, electrified, and personified.

Here before you are the devitrified pillars.
Step this way to hear about it
to see the unbelievable waste that it was,

yes it’s true!

Right here before your very eyes
you will experience
the awe and
the majesty
of the most powerful
ferocious
beast of the modern age.

We will take you back
to its humble beginnings
then show you more at its peak.
We will reconstruct its rise to power
and ultimate downfall.
It was once
one of the greatest
super powers on the planet.

Watch it now as the cancer
chips away
at the facade, as it falls
and crumbles below.

Sir, please be careful
don’t feed it.

We lost a couple
just last week
they didn’t speak the language
couldn’t read the signs
which are clearly marked.

They got too close, wanted
a few extra pictures and BAM.

It ate them whole, nothing left
just a stain on the floor
dark and desiccated.


All right folks

move along now.
Keep your hands inside
the barrier.
Around the next corner
we have another exhibit
just as thrilling.

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Affliction-Slam poem

Most of us suffer from some form of it
if it isn’t drugs or alcohol
its cigarettes, coffee, exercise, gambling, shopping, SEX or FOOD.
We overindulge as a society
It is our RELIGION
and then we deny it.
We’ll tell you that you are CRAZY
We suffer from a DISEASE
therefore we need HELP.

We are not ACCOUNTABLE for our actions.
We stopped being accountable in the sixties
and it has morphed into the beast that it is today.
We changed the world alright.
Congratulations—Madam
we have a gazillion
afflictions and we BELIEVE that it will
take some hard work to get back
to normal.

When did we start
believing the lies?

We believe that we are insignificant.
We believe that life is a poker hand.
We believe that once you are afflicted
that there is little to be done, you have to live with it,
the devil made me do it.
Just swallow that knot in your throat
it will be alright in the morning.

But the morning has come and gone
and here we are fixed in front of our computers and the TV

waiting for the savior
waiting for that asteroid
waiting for 2012.

We believe in aliens, Big Foot,
the paranormal, and WAR.

We believe in pressing 1 for Spanish
and 2 for English.

We believe that being rich or powerful
or rich AND powerful will solve
most of our problems.
We follow the movements of
TV and film stars like they have
the secret to creation.

We just need to do what
they do, wear what they wear
eat what they eat.

We will put up with just
about anything, so long as it
doesn’t change any of our plans
or alter our thinking.
We want to give it all to GOD
all our problems, choices, suffering.

We want HIM to fix us, fix the country
fix the planet, fix the universe.
FIX EVERTHING, so we can
continue to do whatever we want.

We pray for an answer
but he has answered.
GOD is on strike!
He gave us all that we need.

The balls in our court

It's the last quarter of the game
the final tournament.

The sun is setting

on our parade.
Kiss your sorry
self serving issues
goodbye.

Departures are coming for you!

All aboard!

Go on
get in your sleeper
cars, this train is
bound for Affliction.

Monday, January 3, 2011

New Year’s Ku 2011

Traveling showers
greeting, leaves damp calling card
moist samples attached.

Baby New Year coos
gurgling resolutely
promising nothing.

Last year exhibits
spectacle throughout islands
waves smoky salute.

Man’s best friend staggers
whines for ear plugs and gas masks
caustic revelry.

Common Mynas perch
squawk at swaying Manila
fronds, surfing air waves.

Nature reigns supreme
on pacific tropic isle
snowing lava peaks.
Man of war jellies infest
Waikiki inundated.

Wednesday, December 29, 2010

Surviving Cigarettes

You know maybe it’s just me

but I don’t need to walk around
with a heavy sign around my neck
that says I am a recovering cigarette smoker
that it has been twenty years since my last drag.

I don’t need to go to meetings
or confess my cravings
which I honestly don’t remember.
I don’t need the pat on the back
or the camaraderie of fellow ex-smokers
to get through another day.

I sent that bitch packing.
I buried it
said a few words
and left it to rot
where it belongs.

I didn’t look back.

Some friend
it soiled my lungs, hair
and clothes.
It yellowed my teeth
wrinkled my face, turned me into a liar
and a sneak. It made me miss out
on special times with friends and family.
It was a selfish, conceited bully.

It made me believe
all sorts of lies.

It was never satisfied
always wanting
more and more of my attention.

It had me fooled
spun me up like a top.
I forgot about food, I lived on diet soda and one meal a day.
It was the first thing I reached for in the morning
and the last thing at night.

I woke up to its trickery
I slowly learned that
I had other choices
that I didn’t have to be a victim
or a hostage
to this friend.

So I quit that habit

dropped it
for the cheat that it was
and suddenly food tasted better.
My car
house
and my breath smelled cleaner, sweeter
attracting positive friends
like health and fitness.

It brought things like
memory into sharper focus
reversed the damage to my lungs
gave me a life free from chronic bronchitis
made my immune system
more resistant to infection
and speeded healing.

My so-called friend
had been killing me inch by inch

guaranteeing me a
one-way express ticket
to the dirt and ash concert
but I decided to postpone
that rendezvous.
I know that time
will come soon enough.

In the meantime
I have too much to do
too many things to experience

so many doors to open

reawakening the child within
reminding me of
simplicity and common sense
of how things used to be and
could be again, if I just let it be.

Retesting boundaries
and exploring

beyond my comfort zone

way past where
any of my old friends
had ever gone
or will ever go.

Tuesday, December 28, 2010

Twelve Steps for Kicking a Bad Habit

1. Stop it.

2. Kill the fucker.

3. Bury it deep.

4. Say a few choice words.

5. Stay away from others with the same bad habits. (They can have different ones, nobody’s perfect)

6. Tell everybody, secrets are toxic.

7. Say no to Bic lighters, pipes, needles and other bad influences.

8. Find a new positive hobby. It’s your choice, decide.

9. Get Healthy- start by taking a walk and not jumping to conclusions.

10. Get a dog who will love you, no matter what other crazy shit you do.

11. Meditate.

12. Believe in yourself- know that you will drop this cheat, learn and move on.

Sunday, December 26, 2010

An Old Violin

He once knew could still remember

which buttons not to push?

He once knew how to coax a smile

elicit a wish.

Grandpa may have pondered over
the cost
long before
time’s door clamped tightly shut
before the last flames were extinguished
what they
would resort to
to get
and keep that soulful instrument.

He must’ve known
how they would
justify their crime
long into the black night
when he was rudely awoken
by the last howl of the refugees
now silent and
covered by venal snow.

Saturday, December 25, 2010

Christmas

Clarence the angel
Has to earn his wings.
Raring to go
It’s been two hundred years
Since he died.
The hour draws near.
Mary and George Bailey
Are ready for a miracle.
Sweet blessings are fulfilled this night.

Sunday, December 19, 2010

My Shadow

My shadow left
last night. He fell
heavy down the stair
bent the frame of my life
and lay
eyes glazed half shut
on top of the damp cement.

He left
waiting for me
to pick up his peaceful sleep
heave it into the back
of my pick-up
and deposit it
without ceremony
into a dumpster.

The loss crushes
squarely,
tamps
down my ambition
leaves it to drown
in a surge of regret
searching for logic
in a meaningless well
of recent history.

He left me
to find my way alone
through the green valley
now gray from a traveling flood
deep within the Ko’olau range.

I am sleepless but not defeated.

I am empty inside
without your wet nuzzle.

I will remember you warmly
throughout these shadow less days
to come. I will recall

you pitching your chew bone

high into the clouds
and then catching it firmly and
gently within your canine grasp
your muscular frame racing to meet me
following and inspecting my
every move, I am lost
right now without you, my loyal shadow.

Friday, December 17, 2010

Preview: Letters to a Prisoner by Connie D.

Preview: Letters to a Prisoner by Connie D.


https://www.createspace.com/Preview/1075242

Loose Optimism

Cool sun
dries dark tear stains
red tea roses climb up
a gray wall barricade dead house
dreams crushed.

Black couch
leather harvests
mold spores, dead insects mass
along border, red spiders head
clean-up.

Red rose
rescues spirit
blackness leaves horizon
pregnant with well-fed deceit
black hole.

House waits
for new owners
to repaint ruddy walls
black fish jump, swim pond’s boundary
life peaks.

Red sun
trails moon
lifts morning’s black cover
chasing loose dreams like a lover
best prize.

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

Habilitat Presents: Cornelia DeDona: Letters to a Prisoner

Happy Holidays!

I will be on local TV in Hawaii in January, put this on your calendars and thanks for watching!

Habilitat Presents: Cornelia DeDona: Letters to a Prisoner

1/11/11 Tue 6:00 pm FOCUS 49

1/12/11 Wed 1:00 pm FOCUS 49

1/13/11 Thu 8:00 am OAHU 52

1/14/11 Fri 3:00 pm FOCUS 49

Friday, December 10, 2010

Bumbucha Dreams

Bruno and Zeus stay howling.

Da blast
skyrockets me towards Pluto
where I crash land.

One blue-tongued plutonian
points at
plenty kanes, all named Lars
in der bebadeez.

Dey ski past.

Shoots, I follow dem.

Seconds pass, I ripped
from da blue tundra
by one nodda wail.
I spock da ambulance
speeding from da North Shore.
I stay talking Italian
to one Russian tita
wit one blue smile.

I drink one beeg Slurpee.

Da siren no’moa.

I ski to da fewcha
wea ereteeng blue.
I jettin wit Willie K.
on top da ocean.

Garrens!

Wat dat mean cuz?

Monday, December 6, 2010

Christmas Scent

Pine needles leave trail

carpet stairs with fresh clean scent

boosting sapped spirits.

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Red Sunrise

Demands


surprise

blazes hot before your eyes.

Drips sublime

from its climb

trade winds leave

scarlet weave

crimson blush

dazzling brush.

Saturday, November 27, 2010

Goodbyes

Goodbyes drift westward
pink skies shower, enfold cliffs
leave their wet embrace.

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Eclectic Mixture

Strange and diverse come to mind
it’s a good thing grandpa was cremated
that seems to be the way to go
no somersaults in the grave for me

I’ve done my calisthenics

It’s no wonder we go to war
malcontent a routine part
of our genetic makeup
praying to a higher power
practicing self hypnosis in order
to maintain our zombie personas
in order to sit for hours
in our glass towers
contemplating the wonder
of our malleable form
adding a pitcher
of eco-consciousness
to our self-absorbed mix
an elixir
concocted by
mad scientists
staring into telescopes
pondering the cosmos.

Ah- but there’s
also tomorrow
waiting for
our savior to return
and what forms will he, she or they
take?
Will we bow
or shrink like
violets?
Will we be caught up
or smote like
dying embers?

Is it a choice
like all our choices
have been
or has this been
predetermined
altered
by a mind
greater than ours?

Are we random
ingredients
thrown together
as in a hobo stew?
Am I the potato
you the meat
as diverse as
two can be
and yet
together
we provide
sustenance?

Gene Roddenberry
the creator of Star Trek
was definitely on to something
together we can overcome the odds
together we are brilliant
diamonds
slicing through
the dark side
of our natures
like a knife
through butter
each individual
an integral part
of the equation
honing in on
the answers
to our own unique
accountability
in the primordial
stew.

Nipple Fruit

Fleshy nipple fruit
South American native
will do the laundry.

www.tradewindsfruit.com/nipple_fruit.htm

Monday, November 22, 2010

Defining Fun

Chasing a dimpled white ball can be exhausting.
Watching it bounce down cart paths, against coconut palms.
Looking left
when you should’ve
viewed right. So many
things go through your mind
like, How hard can it
be to follow a little white ball?

Funny you should ask because they have been known to
disappear in full view of the player and their cart partner.
Perplexing
doesn’t  begin to
describe it
as you walk towards the spot
you last saw that blasted
white object and
circle the fairway
hunting for that
darling white ball.

Not a colored ball
because you know better than to
use one of those cute colored ones.
But a white ball, newly cleaned
that has managed to find the only piece of four-inch turf to hide in.
Come to find out it’s not hiding at all.
It went straight up not left
and is now in the middle of the fairway, but you still don’t know that.
And now instead of golf, you are playing hide and seek.
A children's game that
you plainly suck at.

Until finally the foursome ahead
still putting
giggles and yells
to you
the smart one
All four of them
pointing in exactly the opposite direction from where you have been
conducting your methodical search for the last five minutes
suggesting your time is up.
So you wave back
indicating that yes
that’s the S#@’n ball
you are looking for
and thank you for sharing!

And you’ve already hit three on hole number five, a par five,
after getting an eight on the par three with thirteen lovely little
hide and seeks to go.

Pausing to state
that it may be time for another lesson
drawn like the others
to the mental aspect of the game
that you are
still looking forward
to today's challenge
seeing all of your friends
wishing secretly that their game wasn’t
quite as good as yours.

Plowing through
eighteen distracting holes
thoroughly exhausted
and slightly pissed off.

And yes
you’ve signed up
to play again tomorrow.

Sunday, November 21, 2010

The Grinch

I am ungrateful
in my damp ivory tower.
Loved ones gorge with friends
on marzipan and chocolate
singing new holiday songs.

Saturday, November 20, 2010

Mother and Child

Gothic depiction
holy mother and baby
divine unity.

Religious art notes
selfless spiritual love
enduring time’s trial.

Mother and child smile
feasting on a full banquet
of satisfaction.

Pious depiction
divulges social receipt
of bygone era.

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Rain Concert--SOLD OUT

Thousands of evening dew congregates at the dead end

of Autumn. They been awarded free tickets to
the rain concert. Cloud, the opening act
threatens to burst on stage ahead of schedule
sending the fans into a moist frenzy.
Umbrellas
Slick posters of the band
and a wet T-shirt contest
flood the aisles and prompt
some LOL reactions from the crowd.
Check back later for
more info on next week’s
frost event.

Ciao Blueline

Buon giorno (Hello) Scusi (Excuse Me)
Per favore (Please)
Tu parli italiano? (Do you speak Italian?)

After I finish this round
I’ll be taking a short break
Grazie-- Alice and Allen

Mi piace leggere (I like to read)
and post my poems on Blueline’s blue space
I plan to continuare (continue) and learn l’italiano in my tempo libero (spare time)
Che cos’e’ in italiano-- to write? (How do say to write in Italian?)

Ciao a blu (Blue)
I’ll be back soon
Io mi chiamo (my name is)
connied
A presto. (See you later).

Passport’s Language Guides--Italian for Beginners

Learning a Language is a lot easier and more fun than you think.

Buon giorno, come ti chiami? (What is your name?)
Connie, e tu? (Connie and you?)

Tonight’s lesson will be
translated
in a gondola on a Venetian canal.

Ionithermie at the Spa on Holland America Line

The forecast says fair weather blue skies.
It’s Friday, another beautiful day at sea.
I’m on the spa phone talking to my husband
and signalling Vittorio, my spa attendant,
to please get me an Evian—
Dear, you should see him leering?
I swear all they do is flirt.
I’m early for my appointment, papers to fill out.
They want to know if I’ve ever had a hot rocks treatment
it is the latest in their line of relaxation treatments.
Yes I know I took the tour!
They also have teeth whitening.

I ask, Cassie, my clinician, about something
I’ve seen in the brochure
I noticed something here
about detoxification and cellulite reduction,
what’s that all about?

Oh it’s non-invasive!
We use electricity
at a low voltage
and we steadily increase it to detox
your cells
thereby breaking down
your fat cells and
reducing the appearance of cellulite.

First you have to take off everything.
we supply you with paper panties.
Then we slather you with mineral treatment
and finally we attach the electrodes.
You feel tiny shocks on the designated areas.
The treatment lasts for about twenty minutes
and requires you come back two more times.

How do you know how many watts to use?
It's as much as you can take.
We guarantee at least a four inch
combined fat reduction
from your hips, stomach and thighs.
Okay sign me up for the works.

Hello dear,
Yes I’ve signed up
for the electric shock treatment,
only they call it something else
Ionithermie.
What’s that?
Oh thanks dear,
he said, Good Luck!

The Glass Castle by Jeanette Walls

The Glass Castle by Jeanette Walls
A remarkable memoir of
resilience and redemption

A diamond
formed from
the blackest coal.

Saturday, November 13, 2010

An Inspired Christmas Tree

Fisherman's Xmas Tree

It
stands tall
in the corner of my
garage all decked out
for Christmas, with hooks and
different colored skirts hanging from
its fake branches. Mr. Blue Marlin swims
at the top, sticking his nose up,
avoiding the tempting banquet
all around him. Not
today, Captain
says he, not
today!

Friday, November 12, 2010

Cruising to Serenity

I spent the better part of today
decorating.
Christmas is coming
two weeks sooner.
My husband is designing
something unique
so up the artificial tree went
a canvas ready for his artistry.
I love his enthusiasm
the way he dives into a new project
and I figured while I was at it
I might as well put up my Christmas village too
and create something of my own.
It was a nice diversion
took my mind into a new direction.

The hours sailed by
and my cruise ship
took me to a place I hadn’t
been to in a long time.
The food was fresh
the hot tub a piping 102
the treadmill hummed
the lounge comfortable out on the deck
as I listened to my favorite music

in today’s port of call—Carefree.

Tonight the tempurpedic mattress beckons
although there isn’t a chocolate mint on my pillow
I grin at my reflection and gaze at tomorrow’s
schedule. Lunch with my writing friends
at another favorite port
tonight we sail to Serenity.

Thursday, November 11, 2010

On A Mission

The news trickles in
calls, from Outer islands,
Skypes from Saipan
and the Mainland

What’s next—Oprah?

Get that white woman,
she will be our Mom beacon
careful don’t look directly at her
her message is strong.
It will change the way you look
at addiction.
It will shake loose the lies
and deception that we’ve been fed.
We’ll put her on our network
between Judge Judy and The Doctors.
The families will get their wake-up call
soon enough.
Quick get the warden on the line
I think I have the angle we need.

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Acceptance

We met

on level ground
and saw that we were
the same
that we had always
been that way
and that it was okay
I reached out my hand and
you accepted it.
You accepted it
knowing that this
leg of the journey
was just beginning.

Thunderous applause
from men and women
who needed a leg up
who got lost on the way
to their day job.

Took a left
and got stuck in quicksand
trying to understand the reasons

why she could and they couldn’t.

Listening intently and then
asking the tough questions
as if she were their Mom
looking for that common bond
finding instead their old selves
that could still relate to the world
still had some wonder left
that wanted more
and weren’t afraid to go after it.

Who was that person
who shined?

I liked her.

She exuded confidence
and she wasn’t afraid to
show her flaws

now that’s real strength.

She was as transparent
as glass
evoked tears
from calloused hearts
and struck solid gold
on their hit
parade.

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Testing 123

Test, Test
Can you hear me—okay we’re good!
The practice is done
The speech written
The DVD recorded and previewed by the Habilitat staff
All systems are a go
No butterflies
No regrets
we are in control!
well maybe one regret
I wanted my jumpy jay
to be here.

To be successful in his own right
to stand tall and proud next to me and declare
that the battle was over, the fire demon slain
he had finally won, was ready to give back.

But unfortunately that bird  flew the coop
A long time ago
And there is no going backwards
Only forward
I have to take care of me first

Like it says on the airline emergency card
When the oxygen masks come down
Put it on yourself first and secure it firmly
then put it on your child

What do you do with a child
that won’t listen
when he’s all grown up
and doesn’t even trust in himself

let alone trust you.

What do you do when he
questions your judgment
doesn’t trust that you
have his best interests at heart?

You let him go.

You let him go
and hope that someday
he comes back
gets back in the boat
because he loves you
and you love him,
only right now he is still lost
and still looking
for dry land
and help in all the wrong places.

What do you do?

You let him go
and you pray
that he makes it on his own.

That he makes
the right choices
that he knows what he is doing
because it is his life
after all

And maybe
just maybe
you’re the ones
who need to trust
in him.

Monday, November 8, 2010

November’s Spawn

November’s spawn
came in like a wet blanket
shed its care on my doorstep.

It forewarned
sad times were coming

I saw that it was heavy
that I should not try to lift it alone
and I am ready this time
resigned to the fact
that we are alone.

We will face this together
and move on

that is how we began our journey
that is how we will continue
until long after the winter
washes all our dirty laundry
clean and
hangs it out
to dry.

Sunday, November 7, 2010

Alien Trial

They live among us

now as in the past
scores of them

left behind

frantic for a new beginning
their former lives forgotten
bolting back with ancient gods
through key magnetic fields
back to distant planets.

Their offspring
surfacing throughout history
providing us with the missing link
explaining the giants and the freaks.

A controlled experiment
that started with the
small-brained ape.

Also scattered behind
other-worldly signs
strategically erected
to discern and ponder
giant markers
blocking the night sky
and ancient air strips
drawing the way
back home.

Thursday, November 4, 2010

Explaining Normal to an Alien

What’s normal Earthling


Where does it live
Is it under that rock
Does it crawl on four legs
Or walk upright
Play with fire
Take risks
Does it have to have a Mercedes
Sleep in the nude

Remember what it did
what it ate for dinner

Does normal worry

Does normal have meaning
Or does it just exist

Does normal get disappointed
Is normal creative
Does normal laugh

Does it ever fly off the edge

Self destruct
Have hot flashes
Sleep all night

Is my normal the same as yours
Does normal have to grow up
listen
Can normal hide
Does normal even exist
Is normal a choice

Can normal be warm and fuzzy
Smile a lot
Laugh at bad jokes
Soak up its fair share of Vitamin D
Drink alcohol and
Do drugs in moderation

Enjoy Sex

Dig its toes
deep into the sand
Eat organic vegetables
Wilted lettuce
know how to balance a checkbook
pay its bills on time
keep it's word

Have hobbies
Like hiking, running
Swimming
Bicycling
Boogey boarding

Stay busy
Volunteer

Eat pasta and pizza
Love dessert
Know GOD
Need to be heard
Require help and understanding
Is normal fickle

Well, Mr. Alien
Sometimes
if all the stars are aligned
and the earth's magnetic forces are fully charged
and the Moon is in Venus
and if you close your eyes and pray really really hard
and you gotta believe or it won't work then either
because those demons will get you if you're not careful
and you have to have lots of help from lots of  friends
then  
Normal
Makes goals
Practices
Asks for help
Sticks with it
when it gets hard.
Because normal
Knows that life is short.
And LOL
Normal knows it is
a dying breed
and that no matter
how you choose to dissect it
normal requires
water, food, friends,
a steady supply of oxygen
and low stress levels
in order to thrive.

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Outliers

***A synopsis of “Outliers” –The Story of Success by Malcolm Gladwell

Outliers

excites
dares
penetrates your psyche
with its high IQ
eliminates the bull
propels you past Jupiter
challenges
everything
you know
and believe.

Outliers
questions
who you are
when you were born
where you live
how smart you are
why you succeeded
when others failed
the innate qualities
that reside within all of us
and then dares you to
exceed your
present
expectations.

Monday, November 1, 2010

Jazz Raz Ma Taz-Suki Sue and Slicky Dicky

Rat atat tum

slicky dicky come
clicking down the street
two hot bodies meet
snappy tappy dance
dark side dey prance
yolk running white
slinky slapping dyke

who gonna say

who gotta pay

rubber lips dey smack
boozer heart she whack
wet on yer nickel
jerk, jack be fickle
jazz raz ma taz
Suki Sue pizazz.

Sunday, October 31, 2010

Friday, October 29, 2010

Dependence

Dependence

weaves its fibers deep.

It watches
as you begin to falter
ready to pounce like a cat.
It scratches deep
leaves scars
that itch
a reminder of
the hold that it has.

You the hostage
it the toxin
your body craves.
It the venom
you lust after.

It the alien
tearing into your flesh
inserting a
humming metal diode
plugged in to your
nervous system
frequency ready.

Thursday, October 28, 2010

Halloween

Hark
All Hallows Eve draws near
Lining up the livestock for slaughter for winter stores was
Linked to the ancient festival of Samhain. A time when
Otherworld borders were thin allowing both spirits good and evil in.
Warded off by guising on this
Elemental Autumn
Evening to celebrate the Celtic
New Year.

Vote--acrostic

Valuable
Opportunity
To initiate positive change
Elect your candidate today

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Paul the Octopus

World Cup guesser dies
Paul the famous octopus
leaves aquarium.


From The Australian:"The world's most famous octopus, the underwater Nostradamus, the eight-armed cephalopod prophet of the football pitch, has died in his German aquarium.
The good news, foul play is not suspected."

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Am I Crazy OR E.T.--Phone Home!

Am I crazy?

I have this feeling

I can’t seem to shake today

Maybe it’s because my bulova watch

didn’t come back. Only the parts

I needed, a new crystal and a battery

plus shipping.

I’m waiting for

Rod Serling

to call me

or Scotty to beam me up.

Captain there seems to be

a problem with the transporter

mechanism.

Kind of like Mr. Spock

playing chess

with a single

cell amoeba.

Meanwhile the Klingons

would be coughing up

greenish red snot tearing up

from laughing so hard.

Vowing like the terminator

to soon be back

before they

warped, factor 7 to the next galaxy

where the takeover would at least be a challenge for their intellect.

Sunday, October 24, 2010

Red

Red
excites
unites
disturbs
unnerves
won’t apologize
and flashes hot before your eyes.

Doesn’t ask permission
or advice
persuades
demands
will do as it pleases
flirts and
lies
then strip teases
leaving you broke
red in the face
without remorse, a sore disgrace.

Wham bam
bleeds in the pan
surrenders juice
from the vine
to unwind
on the sand
getting tanned
wraps your wrist
in a twist
trails cut glass
sub atomic mass
finger pricks
smacking lips
autumn leaves
scarlet weaves
crimson blush
Cardinal crush.

Klepto Mom

Mom is a kleptomaniac.
She steals shiny baubles
from the jewelry counter at Sears.

She can’t afford
a gardener
but has plenty of
different colored handbags
to match every outfit.
She doesn’t do yard work.
Instead of roses and tulips
her yard
has weeds and poison ivy
Taking things is her way of
coping with
Dad
Especially now that they‘re saying
he’s got that old-timers disease.

So Sis, watch her
the next time we go shopping
just don’t tell her you know.

Solo in G Minor

Shama pierces silence, plays flutelike composition.

Friday, October 22, 2010

Obama Talks

Madame Tussaud's
Obama says SURE!
Suggests new referendum
sways local author.


Madame Tussaud’s—who do you want to meet?



Letters to a Prisoner

Prisoner letters
a mother cries out to world
Meth—not even once!

Thursday, October 21, 2010

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Sunday, October 17, 2010

Cirque du Soleil—Love

Cirque du Soleil—Love
is a kaleidoscope
wrapping the senses.

It's peace and love, warm and fuzzy
Beatles music
personified
reminding me of the musical genius
of John Lennon whose life was cruelly extinguished
outside his New York City apartment by a
monster with a gun.

A monster whose wife I met at church in
Hawaii, a devout unassuming woman. Still going
to work each day,
still alone.

Thursday, October 14, 2010

Leaving On a Jet Plane

I’m leeea--ving on-- a jet plane


Do know-- when I’ll---- be back a—gain!

It’s the part in the middle
I’m not too sure about
It should be fun—funner, more fun
than anyone should have!
Three Cirque du Soleil Shows, comedy
and a plethora of female nude art
using color, subdued light and geometry.

Shopping
picture taking
people watching, sitting by the pool
slurping sodas, slapping sunscreen
on, shoveling through the desert
with a big spoon, going back for seconds
and then walking it off. Staying up way past

my bedtime far into the neon night
watching the stars line up
optimistic
that the magic roll of the dice
will levitate and rip through
the crack in the facade.

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

On Speeches

A brilliant three minute speech
reigns in the right hemisphere
of my brain. Or is it
the left? No matter
it plans to move to the
correct corner soon.

It promised.

In the meantime
I wait like
a hopeful puppy
with a pink ball
tossing ideas at the wall
hoping they bounce and snap back
so that I can shine
for a few moments
in the light of acceptance
before the gray balding
man in the back
goes home to daydream
about poetry
comes up with
a tantalizing verse of his own
and shares it
with the world.

Journey to the Center of the Earth 2

Movie set takes priority at Heeia Kea Boat Harbor.

No parking for anyone at anytime
between Ocotber 14th thru November 2nd.

Fisherman, Tour Boat Operators, Tourists,
left to flounder like a pod of
beached whales on a deserted isle.

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Feeding the Boys

They gallop like horses

to the back of the house
answering their master’s call.

Who wants to eat?

Hungry, dripping saliva
tails wagging
ears pulled back
trained to wait
until he is finished
scooping out the dry
and finally adding the meat.

Canines glinting
they descend quickly
into their meal
inhaling the savory chunks.

Meat is what they hunger for
devoured first.
Tonight’s meal
short ribs
marinated and cooked
carefully deboned
meat not pedigree dry
leftovers for the doves and the mynas
who watch and wait
for the scraps.
Sizeable portions left behind
spilled in distracted haste.
Patient for their turn to feast
to puckishly perch on
metal rimmed bowls
in small semicircles.

Pecking and
cooing at their mates
who gossip above
in the octopus trees
about this morning’s
breakfast menu.

Sunday, October 10, 2010

Sad

I should be happy not snappy
a clown

instead I drown in
the stroppy sphere
of tears
sliding bleakly down my
cheeks

a
danger
sign
in the Eden
of my mind.

Saturday, October 9, 2010

Cleaning Day II

The Craftsman Wet/Dry vacuum
inhaled a yard of dirt and grass
from the garage floor on a sucking rampage
leering at the treadmill and weight equipment
freshly wiped down with ammonia
baying at the bottom
of two mirrors sprayed with Windex
dried to a streak free shine.
It howled inside the gold Hyundai
leaking soapy residue on the chipped cement floor

then pulled me to the Studio
where it jumped at the dusty cobwebs
spiders and centipedes
dead and alone.

Napping
this afternoon
now that it
has had
its fill.

Friday, October 8, 2010

Poetry Slam

I smell the sweet ginger
lei hanging from my office door
another birthday gift
from my son.

It makes me proud to be his mom

proud that I went last night
to something W A Y
out of my comfort zone

a poetry slam

where the average age in the room
put me into the mold category
sweet mold
but mold nonetheless. I loved meeting Kealoha
waiting in the wings
having my name called out, I loved that I was spot-on
my delivery, my timing.

And guess what
they gave me a 10
and some eights
and a seven point something or other
but H E Y, I did it.

I got up in front of
total strangers; the hot, and the self-righteous
the chubby and the unprepared.

and I delivered my lines and I forgot about being nervous
because I O W N E D that stage
I owned my poem
I owned my precious three minutes and
ten seconds and no one booed or hissed

Or said get off the stage Auntie.

And there was real talent in the room
Real honest-to-Jesus talent and it lifted me up
enforcing my belief in my new religion

A warm and fuzzy peach in the eye of the storm

And I saw Liz Soto of Youth Speaks
and I thanked her for being my inspiration
Mentioned her name on stage and she thanked me for that.

And we hugged.

My husband Tommy even said
He was proud of me.
That you poets are C R A Z Y
but that I showed spunk, that in spite of everything
I did get up and perform my poem
that I had practiced for weeks, polished like a diamond.

I think it caught him off-guard.

He said, that ten o’clock was way past his bedtime

that was why we had to leave before the end.

Before the esteemed author, Karen Finneyfrock, had
completed saying what she came there to say.
I heard her first three poems though.

And I was glad I did.

Because I K N O W I heard
what I was supposed to hear.

And well the rest will come soon

because I am a champion
not a quitter.

And free styling or practiced

It is MY TIME.

So step aside slam poets
plan to perform paperless
because I am here now
and my strong words
are dangerous.

Thursday, October 7, 2010

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Backsplash

Backsplash

San Souci beach wall
wave action prompts photo-op
splish-splash excitement.

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Diamond Head Hat Collection

Diamond Head Hats

Diamond Head’s rim view
Contributions optional
Trades 5-15
Barter is available
for lithe quick-thinking shoppers.

Monday, October 4, 2010

Phantasmagoria

 Twisting my way
into a dark jungle

pushing past awkward and wild.

As a valiant oak offers
cool shade
from the blistering sun.

Long forgotten leaves
surrender their hold
fall away
and expose old scars.

Submissive browns
reconciled reds and oranges
long-suffering yellows
raked and
heaped into piles
ready to finally
appease the gods.

A kaleidoscope

briefly
soothing the ache
that gnaws

like a fungus
mushrooming
white circles on the lawn.

Saturday, October 2, 2010

Screamer


Sizzling screamer
passionate red head tips game
publishes dark tome.




Friday, October 1, 2010

Featured Post

The Dark Path Brightens

It occurs to me That I require an ideal To summit these peaks. Something more than a patch. My tenacity shouts above my perception Shooting ...