Monday, December 31, 2012

Women

Knapps, 12/30/12
It is nice,
to be alone, together,
un-bothered, un-tethered,
surrounded and ensconsed in the company of female creatures.
I forgot how smart, and funny, and deep and wise
and peculiarly awesome they can be.

Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Friday, November 2, 2012

"Tydan"

Let's see where this goes.

Believe the Promise for better things.
Stay strong, and wait; loose not thine heart. God is not one who
maketh empty oaths. He is full of beauty. All the best things lay in Him.

Seek that above everything. Because nothing else will ever do.

Poloroid Documentation 10.02.12

I invite you to come sit 
inside my mellow mind, 
and consider how:
a full glass is only good, 
because we are supposed 
to drink it.

Men won't be men.
And all the children suffer,
Eating pie, and cakes and never
knowing about the yeast or 
the whole grains, ground into flour, cuz
no one will teach them real truth.
There are too many gaps,
too many frayed edges.
This is reason to dispair...
But chords can be patched.
And the knots can make 
the most sense in their strength.

I watched your hands
move swiftly, uncovered,
in the cold air. I'd like to 
feel them sometime, maybe 
on a warm beach where 
our shivers have stopped and
are stomachs are full from laden cups.

Friday, October 12, 2012

9 Hours Spent At The End of The Cul-Du-Sac

I spent all day in an old old house, with termites and milk spills, and broken windows. There was a dead bird laying in the grass when I got there, and two kitties that "aren't related, and aren't spayed", so perhaps next time I go there, there will be more kitties. But anyways, there is a turret that functions as the "schoolroom", and I read alot outloud up there, even until my tongue got sore, as the children did their quiet-work and listened, surrounded by posters of Egypt and Mother Goose. Then, the kids took turns reading, and I kinda got caught up in the wonder of the miracle of them all being at different stages. Like butterflies and caterpillars, each one was changing and growing and beautiful. It was fun afterwards, to go outside and make blind contour drawings of each other, even as the dog would steal our pens, and try to sit ontop of us. But there was much laughter. Blind contour drawings are always fun. Not all of the children did school. One was sick in her bed with the flu. One was filming a commercial in LA. One wouldn't come out of his room. But such is life... and other four did well.

We made quiches, and the baby really wanted to help with the pie-crusts, and she tried her very hardest, not getting her sleeves all in everything, but she's only three, and that can be very hard sometimes. The kids found my ipod and were listening to songs on it, and came across one I'd recorded a while back. They played it on repeat and started singing along, and kept telling me how much they liked it. Teddy even said in his raspy little accent: "Wow, you sing even better than Toby Mac!" How could I ask for a better compliment? We made obstacle-courses for each other. We played some games and sat under the trees. We climbed on the roof. Margaret stepped in dog barf. And we unsuccessfully tried eating a very unripe avocado. That is what I did today, in case anyone was wondering. It was a good day. It wasn't perfect... But maybe it was, considering, the day started, driving deep into the sunrise, emersed in a very good song, and ended, coming home, headlong into the setting sun, bookmarked by that same such pretty tune. That sort of has a way of making up for all the dirty cheeks, and crusty old sponges.
M and E, hard at work.

Sunday, September 23, 2012

On life, always continuing.

There's something absurdly nice about walking in one's neighborhood, at dusk, without shoes and a just very light sweater... The air is so fresh, under the sky. The crickets call wildly, as the bats begin to flutter, and people practice their instruments, to be heard through bright windows. I always hope to see raccoons, or skunks, or just an early shooting star.

I don't know why at certain times we feel things more deeply. But I've found I am always most hopeful at dusk.