I just wish you enough

....may your life be filled with just enough good things to sustain you.
I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright
no matter how gray the day may appear.
I wish you enough rain
to appreciate the sunshine even more.
I wish you enough happiness
to keep your spirit alive and everlasting.
I wish you enough pain
so that even the smallest of joys in life may appear greater.
I wish you enough gain
to satisfy your longings.
I wish you enough loss
to appreciate all that you have.
I wish you enough hellos
to get you throug the final good-bye.
Takes but a moment to meet one special person
...an hour to come to appreciate them
...a day to begin to love them;
...an entire lifetime to forget them.

just one more...why not!

notebook's matinee

exposed there....bone bare

every naked heartsbeat.

the unexpected notebooks mirror.

teardrop reflections.

heartswaves washed pure...screen silver

and ...that knowing

...is something nothing is?

...fairy tales

with happy neverendings??

..just illusions

written across my paper heart.

happily neverafter dreams of U_s.


oh that empty _ space

what a difference... just one space.

was that just U or the unborn US underscored.

just little morning thoughts

...thoughts recede gentle...as tides pulled from shore
til sudden word wellsprings out from me pour

streams produce a trickle

the seas a raging storm

while lakes produce more often

those quiet subtle forms.


one hundred times I've said those words

deep inside my head

and in one hundred silent moments

I know they've all been read.


...have you ever tried erasing lines written across the heart?

...or mourned the loss of someone you truly never held?

Dangling lightbulb

This space...cold.
so bone chill bare.

i lay coiled in fetal curl,

under its blinding glare.

Dangling interrogation swaying too and fro

...imprisoned in this pain, fear is everywhere.

...faces & spaces spinning all around.

this blur of shapes and roaring sound.

i close my eyes, and squeeze them tight.

just to rid this room of light.

Memories...or the lack there of.

I don't remember being nine or eight

or six or three.

and i do not remember that house, a room

the space made just for me.

i don't remember tabernacles or dorms

nor the school yard playground forms.

I only recall feelings so sad

being constantly frightened

that I'd make them mad.


what is it about timing
              ...is everything just timing?

what of follow your heart
               ...and to yours be true?

U did...and she as well,
     and they do, and I have tried.

...missed connections.

just brushstrokes and broken texts

placed yours here
              ...and others there.

...is it just timing
that silent heartsounds go unheard?


the rain curtain falls
rises to the waves encore claps.
...i stand and
a thousand ovations wash over me.

Broken pieces

...and my 12 can't breath

under your weight 13.

...don't care, don't know why

so I lay still and just cry.

...stare up at your ceiling

to pretend I'm not here.

...then gathered my things

just want out of there.

...not a word had been spoken,

nor a tender thought shared.

...and you cannot hurt me

cause i know you don't care.

you are not like him

and hurt spills everywhere.

...i ran home and scrubbed

and yanked off his ring.

...tossed it in the trash

like it didn't mean a thing.

....and  from  Divisadero weekend read comes 

For we live with those retrievals from childhood that coalesce and echo throughout our lives, the way shattered pieces of glass in a kaleidoscope reappear in new forms and are song like in their refrain and rhymes, making up a single monologue. We live permanently in the recurrence of our own stories, whatever story we tell.

I learned that sometimes we enter art to hide within it....It is where we can go to save ourselves, where a third person voice protects us

Divisadero...a point from which you can look far into the distance.

Michael Ondaatje


absences pour through me
like water seeps from a broken vessel
everywhere...flooded by memories
watercoloured shades of blue


....thoughts from a young girl's heart

...when i was young my heart was whole.
I gave it freely and shared my soul

but it got broke and tore in two
and that first piece always stayed with you

you didn't sense it when you held others hands
thinking it lost in some far off land

and when your journey took you to the streets
you never heard its tender heart beat

while drowning in drugs and alcohol's blur
it remained with you always,steadfast and sure.

when you packed up your bags, and headed far west
in a backpack it lay til at last it found rest.

Dec. 2007 Lost & Found...You've got mail!!

Then came December...not long ago.
The box rediscovered...you unwrapped its bow.
and there in an "e" its journey's revealed
allowing two hearts at last to be healed.

Each morning I awaken
Excited now to see
Just how He will use
Each trial out through me
So grateful I surrender
All the sorrow and its pain
Now I see it had purpose
For His glory and my gain

Antoine de Saint__Exupery

The tender friendships one gives up,

on parting,

leave their bite on the heart,


also a curious feeling

of a treasure buried somewhere.


He's allowed me to view the depths of dispair
So often I've questioned why He'd left me there
Long tested by trials, I could hardly bare
And many times wondered if He was still there
Then just when I felt I could bare it no more
He lifted me up and placed me on shore
Once crippled by struggles, discord and strife
Now granted peace, abiding love and new life.


My hand I give, outstreched to yours
That leap of faith, to step from shore.
Climb aboard our ship of dreams
To gentle drift upon our stream.
Our tiny "red" with oars of white
Sails from the dawn into the night.
With palette and paper, your paints..my pen
We drift t'ward silence, hear her whispers again.
Our tiny ship they do not see
She drifts through silence invisibly.
Hidden from those she will be
Visible only to you and to me.

Look out...
through your paper pane gaze
to the sunlit ribbons haze
...capture hope
every dream,
your heartbeats longing
touch them
virgin pure to sheets
of parchment white

Secret attic playroom

I am in this room...
upstairs I think,
so very dark and small.
I'm sitting in this room...
just sitting on the floor
playing with my doll.
I play alone in this room
but I am not in my home.
...so very quiet in this room
and little friends have gone
Someone lives in this house,
...and I am not alone.
I look up...up through the doorway
Someone is in this house
...and I am not alone.

Excerpt from Edge: Eamon Grennan

...breakers becoming light then noise,
the ocean raging and rearranging this long spit of sand
like a life at the mercy of circumstance
...i saw the north wind drive trillions of sandgrains
to scour every last trace of what the previous tide had done

Eamon Grennan: excerpt from Edge


...what to say of you and I.
I think it has always been just
.......and me.
...chasms bound by spoken vow
a distance ocean vast.
drifting by in silence,
one grey cloud veil slips by another.
...it leaves you alone...ly and I as well.
not by fault yours or mine,
just two crashing waves collide.
...and you, pulled down by tides and current,
choking under the weight of it all.
...and I am sorry.
...do you think of it too?
does your mind wander
in that hot mornings traffic haze?
...i don't know...you never say...never share.
You never share you...so I don't know.
I think we're both weary,
...just so tired from it all.
...so turn away, head down your distance lane.
while I in silence pass by you again.

Life holes: healing

...then suddenly
touched by my own spade of light,
the gift of a heaven sent gardener.
digs down deep through ribbon roots,
this gentle tiller of my hearts soil.
and with each tender turning,
breaks through deep clay wounds.
droplets of light pour in through each hole,
while gentle rain sheets soften each scar.
now rooted so deeply within,
tender seedlings clear and true grow.
warmed by the light, enriched by his care,
ripened to harvest, this gift now to share.

Life holes: wounds

...odd, these frail, delphian life fissures,
and whatever obscured their flow.

...filled them so mud thick deep,
that it led to this long winters burial.

slip graves of soils and clay pain,
its burdened weight so ever pressing.
choking and blinding the heart and soul.

Is your chosen happiness fine for you?

Happiness?...just memories

mirrored in a quiet eye.

Sparrow's Heart

Tender sparrow's heart,
fragile, blue-beating
eggs tomb.
...yolk yellow
to the earth below.
Broken shell
heart pieces
of you and I.


What causes tiny hearts
to shatter like glass?
One thousand crystal teardrops
fallen to the floor.


"... so, where is your home?" he asked.
and I replied
"...you know, home is just that dream space
inside my head.
...the quiet place, where thoughts and feelings
blow fresh breeze free.
...and you already have clear direction."

From The Sapphire: by W.S.Merwin

...blue not blinding, its light did not shine but was:

And came,

as the trumpet pierced through into silence,

To hover so close before my hands

That I might have held it

...but that, one does not handle

What one accepts as a miracle.

A great sapphire it was whose light and cradle

Held all things;

there were the delights of skies, though

Its cloudless blue was different:

of sea and meadow,

but their shapes not seen.

Water Abstraction: Akiruna

Excerpt from Edge by Poet Eamon Grennan

...I'd walked out to the sea

surfing and spuming

into meerschaum heaps of lettuce-tinted gauze__

Release at last....

crystal prism vistas rise up through Baptismal waters.

Embrace....with pierced gaze,

swim arrow straight into the heart of it.

Healing water spot

Flickering Mind: poet Denise Levertov

Flickering Mind
Lord, not you,
it is I who am absent.
At first
belief was a joy I kept in secret,
stealing alone
into sacred places:
a quick glance, and away-and back,
I have long since uttered your name
but now
I elude your presence.
I stop
to think about you, and my mind
at once
like a minnow darts away,
into the shadows, into gleams that fret
unceasing over
the river's purling and passing.
not for one second
will my self hold still, but wanders
everywhere it can turn. Not you,
it is I am absent.
You are the stream, the fish, the light,
the pulsing shadow,
you the unchanging presence, in whom all
moves and changes.
how can I focus my flickering, perceive
at the fountain's heart
the sapphire I know is there?

Call for submission: Eco Coffin

While attending an art exhibit opening, I picked up their latest call for submissions. A friend inquires if I have any ideas...The title of the upcoming show was Eco Coffins. As I had not begun to paint at that point, the following verbal expressions came to me while night walking.

I shall gather up all feelings,

and pieces of me.

Place them gently each evening

in tender folds of morning glories.

Secure...til touched by that light

which can set them free.

C.S.Lewis: who understood blue

...love anything and your heart will be weary and possibly broken.
...if you want to make sure of keeping it intact,
you must give it to no one, not even an animal.
...wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries,
avoid all entanglements...lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness.
...but, in the casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change.
it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.
...to love is to be vulnerable.

C.S. Lewis

Streamwalk Companion

I have decided to set up a seperate blog to post my poetry, and short stories. This will allow me to keep things over in my stream fresh for posting art work. The words written here are accompanied by the amazing photographic images of the young artist Akiruna, from the Netherlands.