I found a poem

I wrote this five years ago (or so...). An as-yet-untitled Ghazal:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Trying not to recall how your bright eyes reflect in your words,
I make note of every color change you inject in your words.

Refreshing, that change - planetary influence might be blamed
For astonishing clues culled from harsh intellect in your words.

Rotary meanings click the time into grey bites between us,
I race to harvest rationalizations suspect in your words

Please! I offer bleeding bits of my soul to your whim’s altar.
Perhaps I read only subtle spectrums of reject in your words.

I queue up in the maze and greedily wait for a sign:
See your lover scramble for hope she can’t detect in your words.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

How did November 2009 get here without my noticing it?

Happy autumn all....

Do-it-yourself Muse

First, start with a mirror.

October and a day off

A leftover peanut butter sandwich. That’s what I thought of when the day began. What do you do with it? The kids didn’t have to be to school until 11:00 and I had to get out of the house.

By the time the time rolled around, I’d forgotten how time can do this to me.

Days off of work seem to be filled with coffee. I don’t usually drink it, but it tastes so good with solitude and music of my choosing. I choose a vanilla latte. Not too sweet, of course. The Morphine album I just bought, Tom Waits, Count Basie, some k.d. lang, Fiona Apple and a little bit of Miles Davis.

I could get used to this.

I linger carefully over our conversation. I make imaginary schedules. I know there are things I need to get done. And I ignore them, too.

You are there sometimes, sprinkling a little cinnamon into what should be solitude. But it never really is. And your flavor is welcome.

Another attempt at regular posting.

It happens on those days when you are in your oldest jeans and a way-too-clever t-shirt and an old flannel shirt you’re using like a cardigan. She steps in with her grey suit and long legs in stylish heels. And envy pours over that particular hour.

Don’t you want those days to start over?

My hair is in yesterday’s braids, fuzzy from wind and sleeping on them. My mood and my prose are being buffeted by every influence. The radio piece on the Cultural Revolution. That Daniel Handler novel I read for the third time. The humid cold. The little girl who just smiled at me. The fact that he didn’t come over to say hello. It all slides my I-finally-have-a-day-off exuberance into a soft melancholy that’s hard to overcome.

I collaborate with my schedule to contemplate the letters I won’t write before I decide that I need a platitude. An aphorism. Something that resembles advice.

And I order a large cup of coffee instead.

Maybe I should decide to think about loftier subjects. Or not.

Things tend to not happen, really, on days like today. Just rain. The smell of coffee. And the sound of background.

Every Monday should be like this.

I miss this blog.

Missed Poetry Month

Darn. Missed poetry month
and forgot to post poems. Must
resort to doggerel.


Lack of poetry
doesn't mean one can't compose
silly ass haiku.


Happy Month After National Poetry Month.

*sigh*

Happy Birthday to the Bard

I'm celebrating in my usual manner. I hope all of you are, as well.

Whew

As much as I love theatre, I am thinking about taking some time off so I can have time to myself and for my kids. They are growing up fast. (Liam is now, officially, taller than I am. *sigh*)

If you are in the Reno area, please come and see "Wait Until Dark" at the Reno Little Theatre. Okay, so you have to brave the uncomfortable seats at Hug High School... it's worth it for some fine acting and a good escapist thrill of a story. Two more weekends: Friday and Saturday nights at 7:30 and Sunday matinees at 2:00. After April 19, you're out of luck.

I am currently reading Black Swan Green by David Mitchell and I'm enjoying it. Not as much, however, as I enjoyed his novel Cloud Atlas, which was... amazing. One of the best things I've read in years: thought-provoking and just really great story-telling (encompassing 6 different, loosely interlocking, stories).

Poetry soon.

Poetry Month 2009

I haven't forgotten. I just won't be as ambitious as last year. I will post poetry this month, however...

Currently, I'm involved in yet another show at Reno Little Theatre and now have breathing room as we opened last night (Friday, April 3). "Wait Until Dark" runs Friday and Saturday nights and Sunday afternoons this week and the next two weeks. Come see the show! It's great suspenseful entertainment, and the cast rocks.

And it's nice to have my life back.

Happy National Poetry Month.

Update on Becket

It was a wonderfully successful run. Thanks to everyone who came to see it!

The company photographer managed to capture one picture of me doing what I did best in this show: tying down blinds.

Above is a pic of the set (which was cool with the industrial look of scaffolding and metal blinds). I was the one behind the blinds raising them and lowering them. I still have callouses on my fingers from those ropes.



I will be happy if I never have to raise or lower a blind again.

Or light a candle.

But it was memorable and I miss the cast and crew.

Thanks to all!