Rainy Day

I’m old and cold my body creaks
my posture is inflamed,
I am resigned to be confined
my teeth have been reclaimed,
but I won’t lie, I’d rather die
before I go insane.
***

The yard, a pool
for howling dogs
to paddle in a boat
will rush and swish
reward a fish
for flying over moats.
Oh happy fish
I sure do wish
to eat your white fillet
but I must swish
instead of fish
And so my meal, I feel
will get away, today.

Freelance

I've carved a creative niche
bitter sweet
difficult to deal with
as I saunter down your street.

My verse is clipped
And NO, I’m not a waitress
my heart beats true
my wits, a tender matrix.

I’ll stay for endless hours
to snap a simple view.
I direct my burning lens
to puke a primary hue.

It may affect your estimation
you see I have a reputation
It requires lots of concentration.
MY degree is in DEDICATION
to MY WORK.

You can’t be caught obscene
with dis drama queen.

Yeah my BAD
I mean
my gear is often stuck in
some balls hairy
places
lacking social graces
with dried egg plaster
embedded in our faces.

I’ll frame
you full of life
smug and satisfied
bare-assed naked
soaked
in all your lies.

SNAP DAT!

I am an artistic dish
itching
to generate, maybe palpitate
because I can imagine
you was once a gift, your mama’s boy
her pride and joy
intact, a sap-- JAIL-BAIT
that wouldn’t DREAM of being late
or make me wait
full of phony excuses
foul abuses
to face the boozers
sucking users
that refuses, to make the right choices
to grow, their WIRED VOICES.

WHY?

cause nothing shoots better
than living in your car.

And because I work for da STAR
you know.

Yeah-- I’m Mitch
and one dizzy bitch
what’s it to you?
YOU—standing there solid
in your dirty J. Crew.


And I am an artiste!

Won’t you be my candid shot
and play wit me some more?

Maybe later we can pan and zoom
by the corner candy store.

Because my lens is in your face
so shut the FUCK UP
don't dis me in MY SPACE.


I’ll just keep you AWHILE
What was your name, KYLE?
just turn yea sweet cheeks to da left
And babes, give me a big SMILE!!

Thor’s Hammer--A No-Show!

Thor’s hammer threatens
Kolohe Wahine golf
at Pearl Country Club.

Weather remains dry
forecast updated to cloudy
thunder a no-show.

Five Women golfers
laugh hysterically over
piss poor performance.
 
Saimin and Pepsi
lunch, revives tired bodies
Sun comes into view.

Happy Mother’s Day Mom!

She gets up early
to dress and shower.

Today she will slide
into a comfortable pair
of slacks, large top,
and Reeboks.

She will comb her short white hair
clean her glasses
take another Aleve
as the coffee brews
while she straightens up
before she gets into her car
to drive into town.

It is Sunday.

Today she will earn double time.

Tomorrow she has the day off.

Tomorrow she will celebrate
eat pizza at the mall
with her youngest daughter
the one who remembers to call her every day
the one who drives Dad to the Doctor
and isn’t too busy
or too far away to spend the
afternoon with her Mom.

No Flowers

Send me no flowers


no pretty petals

velvet soft.

Send me no long stemmed

beauties

whose dewy fragrance

waft.

Send me no posies

that require

casual note

if you care.

for they will surely die

their purple blooms

will choke

into a speckled brown despair.

Send instead

a cactus or a weed

that will not wither

or get into a dither

from neglect

that can be left

to survive in a

brown thumbed void

unchecked.

Pleasant Dreams America

                                                               Obama proclaims

Osama bin Laden, dead

pleasant dreams tonight.

The Barber

He looks competent enough


standing there in his white shirt and dark trousers

as he makes slow deliberate steps

in a well worn semi circle

pivoting left and right

his sharp scissors shaping and clipping

carefully clicking along to a favorite tune

as dark mounds pile up on the floor

a shaggy witness to his art.

A trusty comb is well positioned in his back pocket

at the ready, set for its cameo appearance and then placed back

as the razor continues to hum

as he finishes up the Asian man before me

his neck freshly shaved and brushed

as the cologne is dabbed and the smock is removed and shaken.

The black and white checkered floor

quickly surrenders her dark wispy curls

as he turns from the polished chrome

and black leather chair

and announces

the next lucky customer.

It is gripping

like a one act play

and I am in the front row

then he looks at me and smiles repeating the invitation.

I smile back

it’s too late to retreat.

I walk the lonely mile

and surrender my locks

to his sharp shears.

The floor willingly accepts

my sacrifice

and the play continues

with one sold out seat

held over

as the patrons

continue to line up

down the street.

A Wedding Toast

Let us rejoice and speak of love
lift up our glasses and cherish this moment

the day, the hour when two have become one.

Let us witness the beginning of a marvelous union.

Let us revel in the beauty, lift it up,

nourish it, praise it and

protect it.

Let us allow it the freedom to blossom

into a ripening mature love

resulting in contented bundles of joy to celebrate

further broadcasting our hopes and dreams

for a better tomorrow, long life and prosperity.

Here is to the sharing of this splendid occasion and in so doing

we refresh our own vows to one another

in friendship, faith and hope.

Legendary

Hawaiian showers

color

rainbows prism.

-Legendary-

prism rainbows

color

showers Hawaiian.

Published

Three poems personify terror

two photographs

true plumbs

 Rain Bird

-Published May 2011-

Rain Bird

plumbs true;

photographs two

terror personify, poems three.

 ***Three poems and two photographs are published in this year's Rain Bird (An annual Art and Literary journal of Windward Community College Kaneohe, Hawaii) This is my fourth consecutive year!!

Missing

News
Bunny steals eggs
Steers were Mastiffs
Film shows balls
-Missing-
Balls shows film
Mastiffs now Steers
Eggs steals bunny
News

Medicine

Oh prescription
take this virus
burning red
drop me
back
into my bed
where fishes glide
in seas so blue
with rest restored
ill health subdued.

Dreamland

Mirror oh Mirror

deliver dearer

kind reflections to this mirror

this view surrender

now much clearer.

-Dreamland-

Clearer

much now surrender view this to mirror

Reflections kind

dearer deliver

Mirror oh Mirror.

Easter

Celebrate
dye eggs, eat chocolate
enjoy friends and family
-Easter-
family and friends enjoy
chocolate eat, eggs dye
Celebrate.



Scared

Doubt stalks lies
finds fools plenty
-Scared-
plenty fools find
lies
stalk doubt.

Earth Day Challenge

Change you

Start now

Recycle, renew, review

Earth Day

-Challenge-

Day Earth

Review, renew, recycle

Now start

You change.

Sentinel

Myna bird pair

sing raucous songs

silent warrior tiki waits.

--Sentinel—

waits

tiki warrior silent

songs raucous sing

pair birds

myna.

Cookies

Sweet and tangy
baked fresh daily

-Cookies-

Daily fresh baked
tangy and sweet.

Imagine

Sickness defeats health
acts normal
at clinic.
-Imagine-
Clinic at
normal acts
healthy
defeats sickness.

Breeding

Art molds story like
plovers change feathers
transforming winter
into summer.
-Breeding-
summer into
winter transforming
feathers change plovers
like story molds art.

Snacking

Poet

feeds world art

dry raisins

-Sunny-

raisins dry

art world feeds

Poet

The Agony and the Ecstasy

Low putts awarded

chipping in on the twelfth green

paid with nine iron.

Fine Art

 Motoring ahead
with the mind firmly harnessed
and all of its divergent frequencies

reined in

requires a large stone and a dash of genius.

To stick with a thing is to
cut deeper than anyone else
far beneath the surface of dim reality
uncovering the coarse dense layers
as each wedge further
manifests its own energy.

Only after
you have uncovered the truth

Only then does it release
the hostage
to ponder again transfixed.

Only of course

until the next precious pearl
is reaped from flatter tablets
to decorate cyber walls
for future generations to venerate
and complicate.

More on Common Sense

Common sense went to
Nepal got lost in a cloud
fell into crevasse.

Common sense journeyed
solitary on K2
nose-dived for nonsense.

Critical Thinking
hired for optimistic
journey, film at ten.

Common Sense

Common sense eloped

with critical thinking schlepped

affair on Face Book.

Springtime

Sassy
Puppies
Run after everything that moves
Inspecting with childlike fascination their
Noses  checking the remains of dried bird poop.
Gregarious they plunge into the fishpond in their gourmand dash.
Tidily scooped out the rascals are then
Intent on ingesting lime green lizards and
Menacing bufo toads waiting for nightfall and
Equally keen to feast on delicate Formosan physiques.

Stalling

I was going to write

but visions of tuna chilling
in a cold closet dressed in celery and onion, drenched in mayo and
pressed atop whole grain slices flagged me down and held me hostage.

I planned to write a poem but had to do the dishes
cut the grass and reconcile my bank statement.
As I calculated the cost
I checked the mail,
watched Life is Beautiful
and folded a dryer load.
Before I could write
my son stopped by and
we shared a coffee. A poem

skipped through my brain
teasing me with
parallel trains of thought
which led me down a
primrose path
in pursuit of monarch
butterflies flitting from
flower to flower
purpose driven
in the valley
of soon and very soon
panting for more
pressing further and further
through the muck of have to and should have
until I finally arrived at the
corner of here and now
where I carefully penned this
rambling verse and post it now to you.

Three Ku

Exercise trainer
dawdles on tropical beach
slurping chocolate shake.

Neanderthal dog
crushes rocks with incisors
leaves huge cavity.

Steam bubbles conduct
quake seismic blue symphony
maestro behavior.

Self-Published

S weeping style suggests
E uphonious
L yrics
F ormatted by talented Authors, Artists and

P hotographers. An
U ninhibited
B allet of writing and art
L aunching an evocative brand of story;
I  nternal and external rhyme forming  fresh free verse that
S ketches a vivid assortment of characters. Altogether
H armonious
E nterprising and
D elightful.



**Acrostic/Review  Saturdays with Lillian: http://www.blurb.com/bookstore/detail/2006721

Unstoppable

Freight train
Runaway car
horse trailer demolished
Slow motion pandemonium
Railroad.

 
*cinquain

Bright Objects Hypnotize the Mind

**Inspired by the Academy of Poets Poster celebrating National Poetry Month in April

Bright
objects
hypnotize
the mind, conceal
discernment in a
tapestry. A spinning
top wobbles and slams into
wall. A pear shaped diamond ring at
Tiffany’s. A shooting star. A slot
machine paying a huge jackpot. Bright things
hypnotize the mind. Sunshine mirrors sea
headlights glare inside island tunnel
the full moon’s steady starless ascent
a thousand candle watt light
shined into the starving
dark Chilean eyes
of trapped miners
surviving
major
stress.

**Double etheree

GOD Grew Tired of Us

That was when he created dogs


It was an off day

his son was lost in the wilderness

and he couldn’t find a decent grape

let alone turn it into wine.

No rest for the almighty!

Then his old buddy Lucifer

saw himself in a mirror

and suddenly thought

he was Caesar. And there was

some nasty talk about repossession.



So what was GOD to do?



He needed a friend

something that would love him

through the thick and the thin

the good, the bad and the ugly.

He needed good karma

to change the landscape

make the world a softer place.

It required creativity.

And lots of newspaper to soak

up those messy leaks and logs.

And GOD knew that

after listening Oi weh

to that voice crying in the wilderness

it was time to give his nephew

John the Baptist

a companion

someone he could cuddle up with

between those power locust lunches

with the new recruits.

So GOD created dogs

Tall dogs

small dogs

skinny, bald, muscled, hairy, yapping

howling at the moon dogs.

Spirited furry canines that didn’t bite the hand

that feeds them

who would love man and wo-man

no matter what they did.

And GOD relied on wo-man

to speak up and let man know

when he was getting crazy and warlike.

And although she tried to model good behavior

Man did not always listen, so sometimes he was sentenced to go to sleep in the dog house

which wound up being not so bad

because he could always rely on his furry friend

to lick his wounded alter ego

and show him that

he was still redeemable.

And if worse came to worse

his devoted friend would introduce him

to the new female dog

down the street

that’s

had all of her shots!

Alternative Publishing Panel

Saturday, April 16 · 10:30am - 11:30am

Kapolei Public Library

1020 Manawai St. Kapolei, HI

You have written a book but are wondering how to get it published. Join us for a panel discussion by three published local authors as they share with you a variety of different publishing  options you may not be aware of to get your newly finished book off to the presses. They will discuss self-publishing formats, publishers, online options and self-publishing. They will fill you in on the pros and cons of their choices and provide a list ot the publishers and options they discussed.

Easter Island

A single row
of moai statues
stare
from massive ahu platforms
out beyond a cloudless coast
their landscape now
arid and treeless.

They face the sea and wait
for no one in particular.

The old ones have long since passed over
their silence roars like a cannon.

Traces of their language
frame an obscure curtain
as one face cracks
crumbling at the chin.

Tiny shards slowly release
the life-force that plummets
soundlessly
towards the jagged rocks below
taking old knowledge and forgotten history
along for the ride. Hammered and
lost at the bottom
by conflicting views
and swept away at last
by the raging sea.


That culture's most famous features are its enormous stone statues called moai, at least 288 of which once stood upon massive stone platforms called ahu. There are some 250 of these ahu platforms spaced approximately one half mile apart and creating an almost unbroken line around the perimeter of the island.

The Legend of Captain Bly and the Mermaid

Word Bag

(deluxe, rope, weight, lifesaver, broom, gauges, battery, fishnet, tide calendar, cooler)



The Tide Calendar hung lopsided
its edges curled and yellow.
Water flooded the bilge
the relic listed to the port side
barnacles clung steadfast
to the thick rope tightly tied to the dock.
The cabin reeked of mildew
and stale urine. Pitted gauges
balanced haphazardly amid the dust and grime.
In the corner a couple of dead AA batteries rolled over a faded photo
of the vessel and her captain.
A beauty in her prime
she was in desperate need
of a stiff broom, spit and polish.
Rusted cans of off white deluxe deck paint
stood prominently
beneath the starboard seat cushion.
The scarred cabin door
hung on for dear life
like a holocaust survivor.

Captain Bly once a handsome rake
regularly drank
his dinner, his vessel was aptly named
The Heeia Kea Queen after The African Queen.

His cooler was always well stocked
with green bottles.

His weighty reputation had
stretched beyond the confines of the small harbor
and swept throughout the windward coast.

He always wore a black shirt
the collar ripped at the neck
thin against his salty frame.

Often comatose
he dreamt nightly
of snaring a mermaid
in his fishnet.

He was her Lifesaver.

The next day
he would wake in a cold sweat
as she disappeared
into the sea flipping her tail
splashing him with sea foam.

One fateful morning he was gone
that was better than thirty years ago
Some say that the mermaid took him
others say it was them green bottles.

Either way
he finally succumbed to his deeds.

So keep in mind

A full cooler
doesn’t float
as well as a life preserver
even if you are a lifesaver
and unless you have gills
you could wind up sleeping
with the fishes.

****

Leisure

You can do what you like

No strict guidelines to follow

No appointments to keep

Bliss.

~

Do you prefer dark chocolate

Or creamy vanilla

with your strawberries

heaven.

~

Currency has been

converted.

We now take

Room keys.

~

Time stretches

across an undulating

sea,

Anna Karenina rises.

Taking Back Custody

Write a story that is between 100 and 150 words. The trick is you must use the following words: drink - rock - damage - heartless - destiny - cruel - abandon - lost - regret - bastard. Words may be used in different formats (for example: drink, drinking or drank)


It’s a new day
to rock!

Amend some damage.

Make better choices.

Listen up.

Read the signs.
And not fall for the same
old mistakes this time.

Abandon the whine
and regrets
for the heartless bastard
that did you wrong.

Re-write that song.

Outwit the cruel fanatic
that led you astray
paved the way
for your friends who lost
the game of life.

Rewrite your destiny.

Because drinking to get drunk
or getting wasted
to unwind

for you

isn’t cool
it’s a crutch

And you are smarter than that.

So carve a new path

And never
ever
look back!

Rabbit Ears

We ran into

Peter Rabbit

at the Beach

and dared to ask the question

What do you get

when you introduce

two bull mastiffs males

to a fluffy white rabbit?



Wait

For

It





No-- it’s not,

a lucky foot,

Or rabbit stew



Do You Give Up?



These super smart canines know

that with rabbit ears

They can get not only

local network broadcasting

but with any luck

Animal Planet

and The Dog Whisperer.

The Great Pacific Garbage Patch

The Great Pacific Garbage Patch

should scare the hell out of you.


We don’t even know how big it is

because it keeps growing.


Located somewhere between Hawaii and California

it is one of seven garbage islands

spread across the world’s oceans

funneled and trapped by planetary rotation,

converging ocean currents and wind.



6.8 billion people will inhabit

planet Earth by the year 2012.



As of 2005

33 million live in Tokyo alone.

Beijing has 12 million.

Los Angeles another 12 million.



And 80 percent of our garbage comes from land sources.



Garbage that

impacts our wildlife



that has the potential to hitchhike.



Imagine

barnacles attaching to floating garbage

not normally found in your neck

of the planet

that can infect another

area’s native species.



Ninety percent of these islands contain plastic items

like nylon nets, six pack rings, balloons,

straws and sandwich wrap.

Water bottles, cups, bottle caps, plastic bags

and billions of plastic pellets called nurdles,

a byproduct of other plastics manufacturing.



Plastic that chokes whales, seabirds and other animals.



Brightly colored plastic pellets

that are mistaken

for fish eggs and krill



that is toxic

can magnify over time

across our food chain



and have an effect similar to DDT.



Plastic that does not break down easily in water

that is cooled and coated with algae

shielded from sunlight and

will last well into our future.



Clean-up and removal of these islands is futile.

They are growing faster than we can clean them up.



Our task begins here



Get involved



Clean up local beaches



Suppress further growth

by recycling and reducing the amount

of trash you throw out.



Your future is at hand.

How many Friends Do You Have?

I have four hundred and forty.

He is a new friend on FB

but he doesn’t have any posts on his wall.

He is a relative

but his wall is a blank space.

We share nothing.

We do nothing together.

I have

added him

to my list

of friends.

Cyber space

can be so cold.

The distance

is unfathomable.

The point

relentless.

R.S.V.P.

Thank-you for including me in your event
regretfully
I won’t be attending your celebration.
I have a previous engagement
perhaps another time?

It appears that Madame Pele
has a big surprise in store.
She’s busy cooking up
a decades old favorite recipe. It is a spicy concoction
sure to overwhelm
it promises
to melt the taste buds.

She is rearranging the table
as we speak. Had to lower it a bit
underwent a major transformation.

Clever hostess
insists that everything be just right.

The invitations
have all been sent.
The seating is fixed.
The guest register
reads like a who’s who
on the endangered list.

Says here to take note
the ring of fire
welcomes all
comers.
Mind the dress code and
observe the boundaries.

Llama

Lovely diva brays distinctive solo. She

Lusts for a three year old male. Tamed they

Are friendly and pleasant company.

Mature llamas guard livestock. Once depicted

As the god Urcuchillay by the Inca.

Six Word Memoirs on Writing

Voracious words eat writers for breakfast.

Syllable stew simmers notably spicy syntax.

A and E unite against U.

I keeps date with lady O.

I O U an E Mail.

Consonants pick up vowels; add meaning.

Cross word puzzles create sharp minds.

Pencils consistently lose their terse point.

Red pens bleed over tabloid article.

Articulate writers never get over themselves.

Laying Odds

Thank-you to David Johnson for this video
Enjoy!
http://www.facebook.com/video/video.php?v=1529705457600



The weatherman was wrong.




My back yard is now a raging river.



I'm no expert

but as we speak

a traveling mass of dead leaves and dirt

has clogged the storm drain

and is forming a brown island

reaching towards a gray sky

obscuring mountainous peaks.



The weatherman didn't know

that it would pour

only that there was a

chance of showers.

Swirling streams now converge

on yesterday's cracked soil

flooding crevices

And a thick green carpet

threatens to overtake

and cover the curb.



So be sure to carry an umbrella

and apply your sunscreen

Because being mere lay people

of average intelligence

who live in screened houses

with glass windows

we can't even hope

to predict the weather.

CONNIE

Cute retiree loves dark chocolate and

Olive-skinned men.

Near-sighted

Nature lover is

Impulsive and

Enterprising.

Sweet Nothings

Decades had come and gone

since they had met

her face was lined and her eyes less blue

but she still had a spring in her step

she could still waltz.

The soft scent and velvet feel

of the petals had drawn her in.

She inhaled deeply

her thoughts in faraway

Rudescheim Germany

in the valley of the Lorelei

on the right bank of the Rhine.

He had taken her out

to dinner and dancing

at a quaint inn

just off the drosselgasse. (lane)

It had been a warm August night

and the food and wine had flowed.

She had felt safe

comfortable in his embrace

as he guided her effortlessly

across the dance floor.

Her pulse quickened

as he murmured a sweet nothing

reminding her once more that

he had stolen

the rose

out of Rosendale

and that their melody

would play on

just like the

player piano

at the famous

music museum.

Elation

Another slice of watermelon please!


Belle barked her order as

Chunks of sweet juice

Dripped down her chin.

Eloise, her Mother, had

Forgotten her bib

Girl, you are a sight! She grinned back at her Mom

Happy, her smile was

Infectious. The remains of the

Just eaten watermelon slid out of her chubby fingers.

Kool-Aid stains

Laced with the sweet syrup soaked her white t-shirt

Mom couldn’t help but smile.

Naturally the fruit landed

On top of her chest

Perfectly. Belle giggled again and slapped the top of the tray

Quite proud of herself

Releasing the

Sticky fruit which promptly slid

To the seat of the highchair

Under her chubby legs

Vaulting a

Wanton

Xing and achieving extra

Yardage in a

Zigzag zoom.

Indian Givers

*** Inspired by the book,
“Indian Givers-- How the Indians of the Americas Transformed the World” by Jack Weatherford

Mark the writing on the wall.


Take heed.

The painting in the cave sweats.

It elicits our response

to ignore it

will incur a penalty.


Reconsider the truth

of their contribution to our society.


They remind us of when our resources

were many

and the tether that held us

together

taught us true democracy and

revealed how their gold and silver

could provide us with a rich economy.


The Native American healer

introduced us to quinine

and the bark that healed malaria,

later transformed into a medicine show

and reintroduced as a healing tonic.



From the woody vines

of the chondodendron

in Peru

we came to know

curare a deadly

muscle relaxant,

to ointments

like petroleum jelly

still sold today as precious goods

by street vendors in Mali.


We have provoked centuries

of painful forced labor upon them.

Ignored their contributions

and drained the oceans of them.


We know more about the dead

civilizations

then about

the pockets of indigenous still alive.


Long before Columbus

landed in the West Indies

the Inca had built sophisticated highways

and bridges from Cuzco to Quito.


The North American

native pathfinders

blazed interlocking trail networks.

The Iroquois dispatched armies

from deep inside Canada

to the Carolinas.


The indigenous lead the European settlers west

developed a system

of canoes and small boats to reach

every corner and crevice

of the Americas.


And yet the history and culture

of the Americas

remains a mystery

It screams

for discovery.

Remembering Home

Let’s just say

The Beatles reigned
in Tillson Elementary school.
The cute boys,
the songs we danced to during recess.
I can still 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.
My long straight brown hair
tied back in a ponytail
fastened with a matching colored band.

I woke up early on school days
it got really cold
in the winter
in upstate New York.
The old furnace
was turned down at night
this warmed up the downstairs nicely.

Upstairs the feather down comforter
that grandma sent from Germany
pulled up to my chin,
was all that protected me
from the frigid air in my bedroom.
I would lay out my school clothes
the night before,
dress, tights, shoes,
and race to pull them on.
Goosebumps covered
my arms and legs.

I loved my room, it was private.
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 afternoon after school.

Before Mom got home from work
and I had to start the potatoes.
Before Dad
would bellow I’m Home
where’s my dinner?

When being the oldest

meant you were accountable
when everything had a proper order
and my audience
would have to wait
until after
the dishes were done.

Feminine Legacy

She had traveled to six different continents

flown, cruised, driven, motorcycled and hiked

had walked inside the empty pyramids of Giza
marveled at the Sphinx
and the Coliseum in Rome.
Toured Vatican City and St. Peter’s Basilica,
hiked up steep mountainous cliffs
to the monasteries in Meterora.

Sailed down the Rhine
waved at The Lorelei
crossed the St. Charles Bridge in Prague.
Motorcycled around the Southern rim of the Grand Canyon
and witnessed the beauty of the fall colors.

She had climbed up steep steps
on the Great Wall of China
and posed for a picture
in front of Cristo Redento in Rio de Janeiro.

She had survived hordes of hungry flies
driving in a rental car
to swim in the great barrier reef in Australia
and along the way had shared dinners with
doctors, lawyers, teachers
seniors and exchange students
some robust and others on their last leg.

She had inhaled the markets of Casablanca
sampled their wares, skirting old men
smoking stale cigarettes drinking strong coffee
holding fast to ancient beliefs
no longer relevant to anyone but them.

Ignorant men
trapped inside decaying walls
stinking of urine and fish guts.
where women
are traded and bred as cattle.
and the smart ones get locked away
in cliff towers, never to be seen or heard from again.

She knew that she was
one of the lucky ones
that this still goes on
today evidenced by

movies of women being stoned
by indifference and fear
innocent
courageous women

who dared to upset the status quo.

Good women and their daughters
discarded like trash
by uncaring husbands.

By fathers who would taunt their children to
eke a living from a stone field

who had summoned the courage

to work for a
widower’s paltry coins
and were later accused of sleeping
with their employer.

She witnessed the degradation
and the intolerance
saw a courageous soul stand up
and speak out, branded as crazy
the name Soraya forever etched
into her hard drive.

She had touched the stain
that is mankind
and still she
dared to hope.

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

Zeus Meets Apollo and Rocky

Groundhog Day

Punxsutawney Phil

keeps déjà vu appointment

outlines prediction.

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

Tommy and Connie

Buy Rocky and Apollo

Bull Mastiff brothers.

Oh Juliet, my pet!

Land dwelling reptiles

take their vows seriously

grabbing a quick lunch

Romeo and Juliet

are committed newlyweds.

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

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.

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.

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.

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?

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?

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

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.

Understanding the Value of Life by connied

Understanding the Value of Life by connied

Trapped

Wedged in quick sand

up to my chin

channeling fear.

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.

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?

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!

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.

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.

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.

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.

Agent


A

Genuinely

Erroneous

Nauseating

Travesty.


Poet

Prays

Orbit

Evokes

Tact.

Artist

Abstract

Radical

Tweaking

Image

Sculpting

Taste.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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?

Christmas Scent

Pine needles leave trail

carpet stairs with fresh clean scent

boosting sapped spirits.

Red Sunrise

Demands


surprise

blazes hot before your eyes.

Drips sublime

from its climb

trade winds leave

scarlet weave

crimson blush

dazzling brush.