Wednesday, June 19, 2013

Save Me~

 For all of the miles keeping me out
save me~

In the soaring heat of the afternoon 
to the lonely glow under the moon
her spirit sleeps with childlike dreams
and nightmares
awakening beasts
dragged into never-ever-land with flesh eating cold
under an umbrella of stars piercing the folds of the galaxy
the insanity of it all seemed hard and scary to understand 
twisted fate and unicorns who couldn't help
but turned black into the night
chasing nursery rhythms in her head from before 
with papa sitting near her little bed
a song 
a promise of a new life in a new land 
bound by the notion of
freedom and prosperity
erasing hunger
that follows her in sounds of a rumbling stomach through the desert with little meows
and whimpers of despair where
chasing dreams of simple joys seems all so inadmissible
facing the almighty fence of divide
in and out of the shadow of the wolf 
now upon them with purpose
and with misery of her papa
she'll not understand this moment for years to come
of her papa with the silent but
loud penetrating eyes of love saddened with fear
and the thought of being
so near
so close
and so very very far away from
the driving thirst of a homeland gripping at the knees of a little one
streaked with dust and blood with sentiments from
resonating images of loved ones pinned inside her shirt
suerte' luck she whispers and looks into the eye of her papa
not understanding the misfortune
looking into the face of a coyote
looking into the eyes of a wolf
and then into the sight of a nun

save me~ 

Photos from 

A book to read, The Lemon Orchard by Luanne Rice 

 Post by Denise Law 2013.

Monday, June 17, 2013

To See Cabo Through My Eyes~

There's many special places at the resort that we stayed at in April that lay gently with purpose and reason with me. This particular place I began to adore on the second morning.Its a lovely patio just outside one of the resorts buffets.
To an ordinary person this would seem nothing more than a patio, though to me it was my own secret garden of happy thoughts,one of many I would hold secret to myself with a quiet smile.
You see...its difficult to explain how a place truly means when you feel so strong-a-feeling. In fact? I find it tremendously difficult to explain it in words, though, hm, I'll try-
The morning sun lay against me like a warm blanket.
I feel content comfort as if the world could not do me wrong.
I live in the present for the first time in eons, and feel extremely grateful for this new arriving mood.
I find the simplest things like the local birds entertaining, especially the ones with vibrant color enjoying the remnants of someones meal.
 I sit across the table from my husband in a easy going way-back against chair in no hurry.
With no concrete plans for the day I am left feeling open to almost anything like a school girl-no interjecting mind with some obscure ball park to be for another one of Lil's ball games, or thought of work.
I am for the most part fancy footed and free, and truly? genuinely, feeling it.
We could do anything we wanted, even eat bad things to clog our arteries, from which bacon became my crack.

Still, the words do little justice to these easy going, sun filled, mornings.Everything I looked at as simple as the rot iron wall fixtures were a detail I didn't miss, nor the fountain on the patio that the birds drank from.
To find mornings such as the ones I had on this trip was special in so many ways. I'll not forget the view over my white coffee cup looking into a plume of palm trees lining the walkways accompanying vibrant colors of flowers in my life time. I knew to make mental note as it being a grand gift to see what I could see where others have not ever left home.Dearly lucky I was. Quietly I'd smile and wish? I'd wish I could share this view with everyone I knew.

Love to all~

Friday, June 14, 2013

A Dance With Poetry-Rhythm For Reason?

How do you write a poem with no rhythm or reason?
because a poem doesn't need to ryhm
and a poem needs not to say of it's reason
more so over in it's purpose
if you should be so inclined to see
the trees bending in the wind
dancing to and fro
summer gusts of dry plume
small circles in the air
dancing on the chapped
dirt road leading to
and through the orchard with little sound
though stirs of small birds
flapping their wings in the feathery dirt
wakefulness to summer
plump Mac apples
spawning of the bees
and mosqeetoes dancing through
bushes with clusters of raspberries
heart shaped leaves
clarity has me
contradictions are free
sometimes there might be
rhythm for
and purpose to be~

Dee L.