Bulldozer, infringer
toxicator
killer

Build, displace
urban waste, ghetto
death

Recycle

p
r
o
g
r
e
s
s

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I am very privileged and happy to announce that I have been named a recipient of the Liebster Blog Ward by Marsha Berrry @marousia, poet, artist, photographer, teacher, and blogger.  Thank you so much, M!   You have been a friend and constant inspiration,  and I am most appreciative of  your support and recognition of my efforts.

The Liebster Blog Award originated in Germany.  Liebster means “favorite” or “dearest.”  The recipient of this award agrees to the following:

1.  Show your gratitude to the blogger who gave you the award by linking back to them.
2.  Reveal your top 5 picks for the award, and let them know.
3.  Post the award on your blog.
4.  Bask in the love from the most supportive people in the blogsphere.
5.  And last, have fun and spread the karma!

The following are my five selections in no particular order:

1.  CoyoteSings  @CoyoteSings.  I sometimes refer to him as “R”. For his incredibly polished, witty, on the mark, trim micropoetry and haiku, his continuous howling, yes howling at social injustice, his generous support of other poets…I am still learning so much from him.  He is beloved.

2.  Diana Lee  @Diana605  for her exquisite haigas, lovely poetry, connoisseurship of art,  elegant and polished photography; her blogs are a delight!

3.  Sandi Pray @bigmax722.  A rising star in the poetry blogsphere. Micropoetry and carefully matched art and photos -artistic haiga expressive of  her love of nature, that will touch your soul.

4.  Mariam Kobras @Mariam_Kobras.  Writer, journalist, a newly emerged talented novelist; recently launched her debut novel “Distant Shores”  with rave reviews, and more,  a most generous woman,  lending her support to fellow writers and poets, unstintingly.

5.  Brian Miller @bmiller007.  A poet who tells it like it is…with honesty, intelligence, and humor…anything from love to social injustice are his targets, and always right on! Brian is also one of the hosts on dVersePoetsPub, a weekly showcase for all poets who care to participate, and a wonderful job he’s doing there supporting us.

I have so many more people in mind for this award, poets, writers, artists, photographers, crafts people, moms, pops, husbands, fathers, but I can only pick 5 at this time.  I’m very grateful to all who continue to support me and visit my blog.  My love to all of you!

The young soldier resting ‘neath a sheltering tree
knows his mortal wound
and through dappled sunlit leaves
allows the sun to kiss his cooling lips

The once vermillon kite
the lemon yellow balloon
the white clapboard cottage
the pinked, the browned, soft-boned tots

All now a gray ashen tel

What if there was a war
and no one came?

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Last stanza inspired by 1960′s poster

And this is what I see:

The one shadow I cannot dance with
  the one greyness I fear
  that makes this climb loathesome
  my step unsure

Doubt

That climbing dance
  two steps up
  one step back
  I dread the icy slip and slide

Doubt

Cheers, approbation
  from behind, above
  but where is traction
  in this dance, this climb

I doubt still

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Stars
  diamond baguettes resting
  on midnight blue velvet
  Tiffany of the firmament

Buttery sun melting
  over broccoli trees
  grilling rich
  meaty earth

Moon
  takes
  center stage
  Sun glares

Castor
  Pollux
  cosmic
  brats 

Northern Stars
  compass
  shining sentinel
  for lost and found

Comforting to know
  I came from a star
  and so shall I
  return to a star

I ask the heavens
  if matter
  never dies
  then, what’s the matter?

               -0-

Quietly now, rusted ties tell tales
  of  love, death, battles, winning west
  twisted metal, wood, gravel, wind
  all remember

The comfy toot-toot
  of distant huffing night trains
  luring dogs, lulling whole villages to sleep
  a wood and metal Morpheus

Sleeping on straw
  transporting to battlefield
  young soldier bewildered by sweeping panorama
  waking, waiting to fight brethren

Jump now!
  and he does
  rolling on grass, watching trains
  bullet from now to future

Abandoned railway car
  metal sarcophagus holding memories
  robberies, battles, caged chickens, tears, laughter
  life encapsulated

A rush seat, askew in grass
  torn Raggedy Ann doll
  watching from
  railway tie

Cardboard suitcase 
  left at station
  half open, frustrated bee 
  poking at flowered dress

Train conductors
  punching into history
  ensuring stoppage of time
  restarting clocks, moving on

Brakemen, stewards, servers, hobos
  preserved in rust
  witnesses to all
  remembering and remembered

Trains clashing and crashing into progress
  rival trucks, planes, buses
  the ancient shimmied, shoved
  youth will have its day

Railroads
  Grand Dame of Americana
  overwashed, favored housedress 
  worn thin

   Fading

      -0-

  waiting in brambles
  arthritic oak
  shrinking rain forest
  infringing tractor

Hell

  overgrown weeds
  abandoned lawnmower
  beetles, poison sumac 
  stream, grey-green toxic waste

Heaven

   pigs with wings
   snakes with human heads
   melting flowers
   strewn apple seeds

Helix Redux

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Beautiful place California…gorgeous topography, green, beautiful homes, sunshine, healthy looking people…always smiling.  Just lost a job?  Never mind..smile!  Broke up with your boyfriend?  …Smile!  Everyone’s tall, blond, and slim.    I could slit the women’s throats…easily.   Food?  Booooorrrriiing!

I’m fortunate enough to have some very nice, generous friends living and barbequing in California.  Well, that’s what they do.  They barbeque everything.  cow, fish, lamb, fowl, hot dogs, veggies, the works.  Watch your hand.  If it gets in the way, ya’ got yourself a barbequed hand.

God forbid a meal should be cooked in the kitchen.  California blasphemy!   Everything is outdoors and bbqued.  Hey, it’s delicious, but whatever happened to platters of food, served steaming from a cozy kitchen?  Nah!  Stick it on a spit; and while your serving talk the diner to death about yours and your neighbors recipes for barbeque sauce.  Talk talk talk…shaddup and eat for Gawd’s sake.    Don’t wanna hear about dry rubs, wet rubs…I wanna taste it!

Okay, so I tasted it.  And it’s good.   But where’s the variety?  I’ll tell ya where.  California Spa Spaghetti!  Ready?  Californians make whole meals of this.  Spa spaghetti is made not from semolina or Durham wheat, but usually from something called spelt.  No, I didn’t misspell it.  Duh…it’s some kind of “healthy” grain..  Right away the alarm sounds.  .So okay,  you cook this thing and then what they do is pour cheap tomato sauce over it and serve it with…you guessed it….a smile.   Tastes like shredded cardboard.   So waddya do.  You execuse yourself, and tell your guests you’re  meeting a friend, and going shopping!   They think clothes.. Ha!  Nah!  You’re on the hunt for FOOD!!!

You likkety split to your rented car, and drive.  Anywhere…where there looks like they serve decent food..On the way you pass an apartment building with one solid brick wall on which is painted a huge sign.  HERE!!!   HOT DOGS!  NEW YORK STYLE!!!

What a joke.  Hot dogs with chili peppers., relish, fried onions, tomatoes,  even chick peas and the ever lovin’ alphalpha sprouts.  But when you ask for sauerkraut and mustard, the New York style,  you get the look… the look that’s  really the finga!

You return to your host later that evening, and they invite you out to the candle-lit patio…very nice…for some drinks and and little finger sandwiches with Monterey Jack cheese and… you guessed it.. alfalpha weeds.  Oh Gawd!   That’s the appetizer!  There’s an entree?  What? .. grass and fresh imported barbequed giraffe?    By now, you’d kill for a greasy Manhattan diner.

You excuse yourself saying you’d like to take a swim before the sun goes down.  Sure, they say…  Little do they know you’re planning on swimming and not stopping until you reach the Pacific Rim and maybe some pot stickers, soba noodles, a little chicken tandoori….

But that’s another story.

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Secrets of Rosetta
detritus
civilizations past
Herculaneum, Ur, Pompei, Stonehenge, Masada

Smiling sphynx, ruined silent monuments
Gods smirking, watching
modern ants building successive mounds
waiting, ravenous worms, devouring yet more treasure

 From the  tels and grids of of Schliemann’s Troy
to the endless excavation of  space
universe without walls
the largest tel of them all

Alien space diggers
pondering ancient space junk
The goddess Dell, iPods,
warheads, sex toys

Who cares that we
tread on history
bones silently screaming warnings
to deaf ears

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A secret for the sake of one
sealed valves
resting on the crimson velvet
of the heart

I don’t care what secrets you harbor
mine are also berthed
so are ten billion others
love is the only truth

You are my secret
you have suffered enough
you are forgiven, cossetted,
loved 

I give you this, my secret
my truth
what you need
not the world’s truth, uncaring
changing with the wind

If the prize is truth
I need no trophy

When two hearts know
then our better angels sing.

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