September 29, 2012 Sunday Whirl Wordle #76

Muse

You come to me

I am breathing your breath

With tenderness

I fold fear into a tidy bundle

Place it outside

It knocks and flaps

But I will not let it in

My space is sacred

All is holy

Prayers are placed

On water

Incense fills the air

No more ambivalance

Dazed by  what you plan for me

And yet…

No skip between

Your plan and my action

The empties

With all of their fears and insecurities

Have scurried into dark corners

No longer witness the light of day

Note:  The muse is unknown, unseen, unheard, but she is with me, when in the studio, she guides me in all that I do.

September 23, 2012 Mary’s Mixed Bag Prompt Neighborhood

Taos Mountain

Neighborhood

My neighborhood is at the foot
Of Taos Mountain
Over time it has become
My home
The only home I know

A handful of
Spanish influence
Music and dance
Rice and beans
Spanish spoken
Knives flash

A handful of
Native influence
Chanting and drums
Ponys and sacred celebrations
Dark skin, hair and flashing eyes

A pinch of the Gringos
Loud, fat, disrespectful
Frightened

A fine pot of stew
All mixed together
It’s not always easy
Is it any wonder

September 23, 2012 Mary’s Mixed Bag Prompt Fences http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/

View of Taos Mountain

 

Fences
Where I used to live
I had a wonderful fence
Tall and dark with age
The color of new green
On moss growing near the bottom
That fence probably no longer stands
Has been replaced
By now

It was protection
Privacy
Seclusion
Inside I heard voices
Conversations without faces
Discussions by the neighbors
Much that I loved
Was wrapped within
I wanted to “keep”
To “hold” on…

Now across the mesa
I see no fences only low adobe walls
(Though I know the Indians
Have barbed wire fences
To “keep”
The paleface out
Their horses in
To “keep”
To “hold”)


Landscape seems to go on forever
Without fences
Rolling sage to open sky
No need for fences
Nothing to “keep”
To “hold”

I’m getting good at letting go

September 22, 2012 Sunday Whirl Wordle #75

(The mountains south of Taos, NM)

Burn Site
It is winter
I sort through the ashes of my life
Remember the storms past
And yet…I remain

All is quiet
Waiting with expectation
Each day a short climb
Bundles of ideas in every corner
Thunderbolts light the landscape in all directions

You bring joy to me
Trapped in the desert
Where all is dry, nothing damp
We are but husks of our former selves
Rustle like dry stalks in the corn fields
Sounds heard in hot summer wind
I might be shook up by this thought
Were it not true

September 22, 2012 It’s the Truth: Tuesday Tryouts

 

 

 

 

 

http://margoroby.wordpress.com/2012/09/18/its-the-truth-tuesday-tryouts/#comments

Just a Boy

Driving the back roads

Of east Texas

I passed a boy

Walking on the road

Eyes black

Face swollen

My partner said

“He’s been beaten”

We did nothing

In silence

We traveled on

The image of this boy

Returns to me

Was there something I could have done

What happened to that boy

Who had suffered what

No boy should have

 

*Note:  I was in a town I did not know.  And really didn’t know what to do, but have always wished I could have done something?

Sunday September 16, 2010 Sunday Whirl #74

Wordle #74

The Artist Searches for Meaning

Artist greets the grey day

Rain rare and precious is expected

Mountain silhouette shrouded in mist

Sky a container

Stuffed with white cotton balls

Blue bird comes to the courtyard

Saunters to the feeder

Not up to his liking

Lilting a song of lyric disappointment

Leaves on extended wings

Tiny glittering pools stand on asphalt

He is gone

All is silent

Artist lifts her eyes to the mountain

Yellow and orange appear among the evergreens

Colors of autumn

All is sensuous rich

In amusement

She whispers alliterations to herself

“Blue bird bellows sorrow”

She flips her tresses

And continues peering at the exterior world

As she searches within for the  meaning

September 15, 2012 Autumn Challenge The River Journal

Autumn
The lane ahead
Reaches out to me
Beckons my travel
From my vantage
High above the canyon
I see sunshine and shadows
Wait for me

Life is like that
Don’t you see
A cornucopia
Full to overflow
Trees dressed in color
Geese fly south in a V
Step on a crack
Break your Mother’s back

Wild meadow asters
Bloom purple along roadside
Sunflowers and chemisa-yellow
Herald change
Fall is here
Apples red and ready
An invitation to hungry bears

Sunshine and shadows
Joy and sorrows
Days of change
Marked on a calendar
Time of deep feelings
Preparation & expectation

Autumn is here