Confessions of a Pioneer Woman

My name is Gert


my corset hurts

my hair is fine

wrapped tight with twine.

My day begins

before the sun

with cows to milk

and chores a ton

My husband died

from the grippe

left me

six kids

and a buffalo chip.

The banker said

his last check bounced

across the prairie

unannounced

I’m good at sewing

can make a mean pie

spin a tall yarn

look you dead

in the eye.

I’ll groom your horse

keep the home fires

burning

just get me out

of this

butter churning.

You Might Be a Poet

1. If you have ten or more poetry books or your nightstand in various stages of being read

You might be a poet

2. If you have wallpapered your bathroom with rejection notices

You might be a poet

3. If you wake up in the middle of the night to write down an interesting word or phrase

You might be a poet

4. If you carry a small notepad in your pocket or purse and a fancy pen

You might be a poet

5. If you have heard of Ted Kooser or W.S. Merwin and know what they have been recognized for

You might be a poet

6. If you write a poem a day for fifteen months straight

You might be a poet

7. If you go to poetry readings held by someone called the Poetry Pope

You might be a poet

8. If you write grocery lists and what you are packing for a trip, in an ABCdarian

You might be a poet

9. If you  understand what a clarity pyramid is

You might be a poet

10. If you like writing by a strict set of rules but can’t find the top of your desk

You might be a poet

11. If you spend all day tweaking a poem that’s already finished

You might be a poet

12. If you have been coming to Lillian’s classes for four or more years or have been published in
The Rain Bird

You might be a poet.

Enticement

Kaneohe bay

waves lapping sandy island

lunch on private beach



The Legend of Nalo Man

***Nalo means lost in Hawaiian

      Mana is spirit or power
      Haumea and Wakea are ancient gods; Laka is their daughter, the goddess of hula.
      Akepa: is a scarlet or yellow-green hawaiian honeycreeper


Last night he dreamt again of the past.

the answer disappears with the finches
when he wakes
under his mystical banyan
in Kalihi Valley.

The tree that he knew
as a child
which shows him its mana
in the howl of the damp
in the leaves
whispering her name
combing-out memories
tangled within their dark stillness.

Coarse roots stretching back
to the time of
Wakea and Haumea.

A goddess born from Haumea’s eye

Kapo has many names
one is Laka.

Laka can be seen
as a lizard or
a human.

Her chants
awaken
the old spirits.

He is blinded
afraid of her truth
a truth that haunts his stirring dreams.

He knows that
the stones of life
by the spouting waters
can heal him
from her intrusion

but he is lost.

Wandering alone
as he seeks the old path
that the kahuna spoke of
long overgrown and forgotten.

He remembers
that the words to her song

guide the way

but they are as faint as the stars
in the tropical sun
invisible
in his frantic mind.
He bargains with her for the key
but the guardian

taunts him

detecting his weakness
for drink
and keeps his path
shrouded in darkness.

Countless moons wax and wane

as flocks of mischievous Akepa
gather leaves and weave seed leis
within the coarse black strands
of his lengthening beard

as he sleeps

at night
between the broad roots at the
foot of the banyan
its thick branches
shielding him
from her wiles
as he fitfully rests
inside their sway.

Bodhisattva

Divine feminine
psychic smile, embraces world
journeying within.

A Poet Lives Here

A

Pithy
Observant
Evocative
Tattler

Lassoes
Images, and for a
Voluble show of approval will
Enlist
Spell-checker, cliché

Half-truths
Euphemisms
Rambles, rants and
Eminent domain.

Pricing Philosophy

I am GOD of my section

omnipresent
directing the flow
making the ultimate decisions
as to what stays
what goes

how much to charge

how little

which polished newcomers
get an all access pass
to Bill’s Bookmobile

which ones go on to the prisons

and hospitals

And what inevitably gets called home
to heaven

the tired,
marked up
mildewed,
highlighted ones
with post-its stuck
in irretrievable places
spoiled and unsalable.

Hell has to wait

its turn after
a dissertation on morality
even bullshit
endures my scrutiny
green in my omniscience.

The list
of human
speculation
is endless
in fact
stacks of them
keep petitioning
for another audience
hoping
for a different outcome.

Love

my favorite
usually ends up
at the top of the pile
since I am

GOD

and GOD is love

and well

because I said so!

Wizard Stones--Waikiki

Tahitian healers

transferred powers to bell stones

Waikiki landmark.

Floribunda Roses--Cinnamon Twist

Orange rose cluster

dewy invitation steams

delicious sweet scent.

I Touched Death 15.25

I touched death’s icy hand
and peeled back my crying skin
glued on
with false hope
safety pinned with lies.

This couldn’t be him
who
had captured my heart
cradled me in his hot embrace
searing, empty promises.

This wasn’t him, in this shiny black casket
in this frozen parlor.

This was a wax mannequin
an empty shell
pumped full
of foul juices
preserved like the frogs
ready for dissection
in 10th grade biology

I was dreaming.

My fingers touched his
hard and fixed
his death mask
distorted smile

carefully dressed in a suit.

I thirsted for his affection
slit without warning
on that dark haunted road
black as a tar
black as a bottomless well
yearning for the splash.

Frozen screams
skated across the green bog

trapped

beneath thick black ice
fists hammering an opaque ceiling
tagged and trapped in the horror zone
waiting for some sign
that I could still see him.

Shredded like a rag doll
sliced by hot steel
by a drunken monster in a black Cadillac
blood drained,
organs extracted
at no extra charge.

Waiting for one last damp kiss
before his appointment
with Mr. Grim.

Las Vegas 15.24

City of sin, din
sights and lights.

City of luck
Mega bucks
cherry red lips
Chicken Ranch hips.

City of lost wages
redeemed savers
wedding chapels and
venture capital.

City to lose
drink too much booze
rack up coins
wolf tenderloin.

A city with eyes
cameras up high
and Cirque shows every night
while gorgeous show girls
show off their girls
and Criss Angel levitates
breathing deep in a red rock scape.

A city of slots, high rollers, big shots
musical fountains and Roman art
River pools, sidewalk misters
Shopping malls, iconic vistas.

Where dry heat is a relative term
as flamingos drip on a Venetian urn.

And tourists leave last dollars
in Wheel of Fortune slots
shouting
honey come quick, I’ve won the jackpot!!

Pen Women Luncheon 15.23

Welcome to New Year
Artists, Writers, Musicians
inspired menu.

Alien Seed 15.22

Ancient astronauts
designed Egypt's pyramids

Do the math earthling!

Labor Day Stroll 15.21

Kailua beach swarms
outriggers pass flat island
sea turtles swim free.

Mental Abuse 15.20

I love you
so much
sweetheart.

Now follow
all my
commands
to the letter.

Overindulgence 15.19

Spoiled
myopic youth
neglects his teeth.

Gummy candy
belly and
devouring habits
dentist’s dream.

Communication 15.18

Hiking

unfamiliar trails
with foreign speaking
strangers.

Accessing understanding
utilizing
sunscreen and sign language.

Contentment 15.17

Septolet

The Septolet is a poem consisting of seven lines containing fourteen words with a break in between
the two parts. Both parts deal with the same thought and create a picture.



Daylight streams
gold
pink and
sapphire vistas.

Silver encircles
uncharted white nimbi
admit one.

Low Battery 15.16

Recharge Battery

Find adapter cable
plug into computer and wait.

Remember when an apple a day kept the doctor away?
well, some things never change
apples still fuel the day.

Dieter 15.15

Dieter
is a serious man
who doesn’t care much for children.

He is still single
in-between women and loves his imported beer
although not quite as much as he did in his youth.

At fifty two, he wears thick eyeglasses.

Dark blond and blue eyed, his pock marked skin is clean shaven.
He wears an aloha shirt and loose tan shorts for evenings out
complete with white crew length socks and a clean pair of deck shoes
inadequately concealing his portly frame.

He hoards his money
earned from
installing razor wire fences around prisons,
this has been quite lucrative over the years.

In his spare time he looks through the real estate ads
and waits for that special parcel
in a neighboring state, not too far from his Mother,
who is eighty two now, an ex smoker burdened with emphysema.

He has many friends.

One has a Hawaiian themed backyard complete with swimming pool
around which preside Tikis which he carved by hand from oak, cherry and other hard woods.
At the intricately carved bar
blowfish twirl from suji fishing lines and swim
in the heavy air
bright with white lights stuffed into their diaphanous round bellies.
Voracious mosquitoes thickly blanket this upstate New York town
underwhelmed by the lack of trade winds or repellant
overwhelming his cousin, Crystal.