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Neen and Grampa, Love You Always

Neen and Grampa, Love You Always



Angel Robin

Angel Robin
MANY of these photos are courtesy of my SoulMate, my Beloved Eternal, Robin Taylor.

We Meet Again...

We Meet Again...







Cathy's Babies

Cathy's Babies

Saturday, February 26, 2011

Aztec Eyes Canto III ? Pictures from the Big Pure Airy Round Box

Below lie a few toys; I opened the box as gingerly as I could, but these flew out.
I've been working on Canto III of a
project started long ago.
I think these scenes are only a review...

("un cerro" is Spanish for a hill;
"un cerrito" signifies a little hill- "ito/ ita" may also be a term of endearment)

One place I lived Before: a beautiful Life in rural Mexico's serene,  immaculate Air.
Los conquistadores had not yet plundered...

Upon a cerro in the Sky, his eyes shone diamonds; he tasted my tears; 
he smiled, flashing teeth, pure brute monte pearls

My Spirit sailed across la sierra to las Madres, 
who toiled with calloused ranchito hands,
  Gifting Light to pulque, heaven-blend.
They bade me sip mystic Mountain GoddessWine
I followed his chameleon form; 
his large dark hands blinded my eyes; 
el cerrito's face scraped crimson rivulets down my legs
& cut my psyche  

*el cerrito : the little hill
*yes, this is, indeed, a recap 

un cerrito

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Hypnos Loves Thanatos (working title)

February 22, 2011

...Hypnos' iridescent Moon-hued eyes, betrothed's jewels ; 
She peers, resigned, into sentry crimson Water : 
Thanatos' angel's seamless purple rose

(a tiny Intermezzo, blanketed in a sweet pipe Tune )
Sublime to know TheLife in a SunFlower's Soul, 
where her Energy lived before, 
who strolled inside her Universe,
sweeping dust grown Gold

...Hypnos'  applied slightly heavy eye-make-up,
donned a beaded,  faded - flapper's black-lace dress
rouged pallid cheeks with hot red wax.
Out dancing in drag, Her Majesty knew safety;
Inside the scary little hours,
She escaped her fate for one more Night;
She needn't conjure Slumber for the Maiden,
She could enjoy herself at least for this one Night,

Thanatos'angel's seamless purple rose
would not be found without her Soul, in the East River,
No...not This Night 

No Moon-hued eyes, betrothed's jewels ; 
No crimson Water ;
No, not Tonight

Sunday, February 20, 2011

This Bleeding Day

Uncharitable Time! You bleed the Day at a speed be-Storm-ed! 
Snickering plague, please find mercy for your animated subject Souls


A  few "Twitterings"  February 21, 2011 (a Futuristic Date)

@osmarjardim @bumfuzzled2004 @benmind 
GoodNight, sweetOnes.
.May the Night hold you hidden diamonds;
may the Goddesses' smiles kiss your Poetry

My "Court Jester" story is,well, la verdad! He's been haunting me for years!
I finally begin to write about him, exorcise him? 
Retweeted by 2 people

@osmarjardim I know you are not my "Court Jester,"
& I will love you no matter how you dress your head. xox  
Retweeted by 1 person

@osmarjardim OMGoddess!Your eyes are kind,but your headdress frightens  
Retweeted by 1 person

@Ourboro Please hold your smile, I designed for you, for your angel Heart, for your SkyBlue angelic aura... catch HeartVibes

Each Day, sans thought, we feel these tiny Freedoms, our Rights to speak, to disagree, to love, 
to know no fear of bloody Dawning Night 
Retweeted by 3 people

Another genius too sensitive for his LifeTime.May he live to love anew,transcended 8:29 PM Feb 20th

Uncharitable Time! You bleed the Day at a speed be-Stormed!
Snickering plague, please find mercy for your animated subject Souls 7:16 PM Feb 20th

My Heart feels warm at your kind RTs @arthurphillips @Ysabeluna @silverne @RibbonsInMyHair @Iliteratepoet @PinarAkal1 @AndrewRWeston 12:20 PM Feb 20th via web Retweeted by 1 person

Love & Peace :) 6:26 PM Feb 19th via web Retweeted by 1 person

How cool - we are all graced as to experience One Moon...she's a Beauty...Awe... Peace, Love, Stars, and MoonBeams 8:09 PM Feb 18th via web Retweeted by 1 person

Friday, February 18, 2011

MoonMusings For @Ysabeluna @selkiec @silverne

Close thine eyes, splay thy fingers,
Hear Her ancient rippling Sea?
Feel Her magic Music's Energy;
she shimmers Athena's Songs toward thee

Although thy shores may be foreign to my eyes,
How truly sublime, so blessed I feel
To know we share this Universe

On Friday 18th February 2011, @ChayaChaya said:

#FF @Ysabeluna @selkiec @silverne Close your eyes, splay your fingers, see the ancient rippling Sea; feel magic Music's Energy shimmering Athena's songs toward thee? Altho thy shores may be distant from mine, truly sublime & blessed I feel to share with you this Universe

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Valentine's Day... for my BeLoved Robin

Cloud, You, my Love, of tangerine mist dress, 
you sprinkle wildflowers over my weary Heart; 
you caress my name in fuzzy Sky letters

Cloud, I'm unworthy of your SunFlower haze-d gaze;
I'd roll you over to my Soul's most golden King, 
that he may breathe your trancey warm caress

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Key-Notes (excerpts from Memoirs of the Key Dreamer)

(I imagine so much Poetry is best Read aloud...or whispered...)

Dusk's dancing colors bleed, await these Words,
  (Key-Dreamer trances, amidst the hidden Sky) :
"I see your tiny rolling voice waves: blue
 your song, your seeds, your sullied secrets spilled
 Please... won't you let me enter here, to Know?"
a  SeaBoat flies; flash! goddess' flailing fins:
Intoned by he: "Doth she imply you've  known...?
Doth her moans
imply you've received the key?...
I have searched for Centuries..."

11th February, 1918:  

The heavy spirit-yard bell gongs noon. 
My sister runs lost, a-mazed, in giant tea-towers, 
drips molten tears on iridescent ice. 

Each Firey bead melts traps for our wayward doppelganger;  
She chases Muses 'cross Time, storms Centuries;
beneath flooded plains, 'cross hoary, frigid blind Mounts
a landscape drawn in Fire's mute misery...
 I seek my purloined key

My sister screams, her voice flails like a waif 
'pon a chill embalming breeze, tossed from an older place...
"Frigid white princess, who moves upon your barren wedding bed, 
Union of Her Love & Her Fury? "

"Life lies beneath the Ice, my frazzled dear!"  
replies the Mother, her voice, a too-distant wail on Wind.

Frigid frozen phantoms stalk milky murky memories, 
watch her wild wind walk, reach to feel her.
She feigns blindness; they fall to slumber.

(Help! My doppelganger runs amok, rambles insane Winter metaphors on digital media!
We are still not connected to the Net
...I must find her!)

**Dear Reader~~above & below & around,

seemingly fragmented?? 
For that reason, I call this digital space my
"Online Poetry ~Workshop) :)

sshhh...Listen...let go...Dream...


No small surprise illuminates mine eyes, 
myriad Stars strewn all over the bed!

I'd Dreamed the view so many lonely Nights
while Dark crept Full with Creatures conjured 
Candles illumined dread concoctions
Fright snaked snails all over me,
bundles of spiders tied 'round their creeping crackling bodies
No more sweet Dreams; she pilfered all- 

          one Night

  I climbed her ancient growl-clawed sides,
tumbled through Lightyears' rich black space;
then I
reached a deeper plain of Night
where slept the sisters' twisted gold.
Inside me, their secret armoured me bold; 
I purloined but a tiny Mine
a fractal, round, burnt colors hewn in luminescent basement caves;
yes! returned Home, Victoria, vacant-eyed,
to find

hundreds of Stars quilting the restless bed...   

still...She pines...

" I seek my purloined key"

(The Court-Jester and The Tea-Tower Damsel chase each other down smokey old cold corridors...
They both bore witness to the Key Dreamer's Flight)

(I felt you, Dreamed you, ToDay,  (Present LifeTime) 
in Lazy WinterGoddess' twinkling teasey eyes...
I see you up inside those Ancient Rocky fortresses; I hear you singing! My baby hears you, too...
Do you see him devouring you into his Soul, you greedy girl?
He shall never forget his crazy Mommy telling him the ancient Stories
He knows how old you are...
probably knew before I even spoke the rare Secrets you allow me to hear
Sometimes,  I think : "What balls you have! cackling, chilly-handed, IceBeam-tosser Lady!"
I hope you're having a grand old Time!)

and Thank You...
for No small surprise illuminates mine eyes, 
myriad Stars strewn all over the bed!
upstate New York, Winter, 1888

Monday, February 7, 2011

7 years old (a rant)

     As a brief aside, (ok, a brag) :) our Leo, who happens to have been born with Trisomy 21, recently received his report card. He is following the un-modified 1st grade (age appropriate) NYState curriculum. His teacher rewarded his proficiency in most areas with above-average grades (ie equivalent of "B," in most cases. His grades soared in Art, Music, & even Gym! (We know where he got the Art & Music, while the jury is out on the origins of his athletic abilities, but we've narrowed it down to a British uncle who excelled in many athletic pursuits, as well as to my Nina (maternal grandmother), who played basketball at Girls High in 1910's, Brooklyn, NY).(**I miss you so, Neen- could really use your input Day-to-Day...but I do feel your support...)
     This year, supposedly for the convenience of the buses, the elementary & intermediate children (2 combined schools) who are transported by parents/guardians, are forced to line up in a (darkened) hallway, while ~we line up in *2* lines, facing them, separated by makeshift office space (2 tables with sign-out sheets) inside an extremely narrow corridor; we impatiently wait our turns to sign out our children. The children do not appear to be thrilled. (We are, by the way, dealing with a school for so-called"normal" or"typical" children (whatever that means.)

     Tired, antsy little kids (Kindergarten-grade 4 approx.) line the hallways, while exhausted educational professionals (all?) must keep our children in formation, until we parents arrive to retrieve our precious babes. How well do you think the kiddies behave?

     Our little boy works with an aide, a woman whose kind-Heartedness, of late, appears to be changing into...???
Certainly, her job is neither highly compensated, nor one of put-your-feet-up ease! Any of us who are parents, whether our children are specially Gifted or not (actually, they all are) :), know how children generally feel toward the end of the school Day. Is the above described scene not a recipe for tiny complaints, hair-pullings, "He opened my mochila?" "She took my mittens!" "He hit me!" ???

After a couple of incidents on the part of our little one, above-mentioned aide brainstormed a wonderful idea! "I will take Leo down early, & we will sit in the corner by the gym." Leo was thrilled! The Middle-School Girls' Basketball team practises in the gym after school! Leo is enamored of both girls (he especially loves older women) *and* basketball. Additionally, Intermediate School Band plays its last lovely number as lovely Aide arrives with Leo.

      Non-angelic Leo (that's a stereotype; we're talking about a 7-yr-old *boy* here!) has acted out a couple of times. He is as impatient as his parents! Miss Aide's arrangement suits both people....or-wait a minute! Does it?!

    When I arrived Today, Miss Aide & Leo stood by the Gym. She was saying, "Now, Leo, what do you want? Can't you stand here quietly?" (No girls Today). Reading my child's Mind, I barely spoke to Miss Aide; I coated my Leo, & bid Miss Aide good-bye, saying "I cannot sanction this exclusion another Day!" (I know; I was unprofessionally assertive & likely embarrassed her in front of others; I am flawed & I am sorry for acting so-will apologize .) I brought Leo into the parent- line, where he was absolutely antsy, but maintained better behavior than several of the kids I observed to be lining the hallway. I asked him if he wanted to sit with the other children from now on, to which he replied affirmatively.

     Perhaps it's me? Who here could be considered a bit...dare I say...lazy? Is not the job of an Educational Professional to teach the children how to behave, rather than to *avoid* potential behavioral challenges? In such circumstances, how will a child learn ? No! No!! We will soon be meeting an area woman, a Professional Advocate, who has been through many similar circumstances. Her daughter, now 20, holds a Regents Diploma- you know, the kind of Diploma most college-entry youths obtain pre-college. the way...that girl has Down's Sydrome.

    From the above-mentioned Advocate, I have learned many things... No! No! No!!

Peace, an extremely determined, CherylFaith (whose son is a Winner, just like yours) :)

11th February, 1918:

11th February, 1918:  

The heavy spirit-yard bell gongs noon. 
My sister runs lost, a-mazed, in giant tea-towers, 
dripping molten tears upon iridescent ice. 

Each Firey bead melts a trap for our wayward doppelganger;  
She chases Muses 'cross Time, storms Centuries;
tosses teary Lakes, beneath hoary, frigid blind Mounts
 I seek my purloined key

My sister screams,
her voice flailing like a waif upon a chill embalming breeze,
"Frigid white princess, who moves upon your barren wedding bed, 
Union of Her Love & Her Fury? "

"Life lies beneath the Ice, my frazzled dear!"  
replies the Mother, her voice, a too-distant wail on Wind.

Frigid frozen phantoms stalk milky murky memories, 
watch her wild wind walk, reach to feel her.
She feigns blindness; they fall to slumber.

(Help! My doppelganger runs amok, rambles insane Winter metaphors on Twitter! We are still not connected to the Net...I must find her!)

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

For My Friend, Faith, with Love

* June 17, 2012...this little scenario set a new World o'mine in motion,  for a larger project, which continues to grow...At the Moment, I call the collection: 
"The World Where Two Moons Reign"...
Soon, I shall link other pieces...Thanks & love to you, Faith!*

Day 1:
     Serena's huge, terrified eyes stared from a minute crevice of the ancient crags of Hazey Mountain. She peered, ribs, mind & Heart aching, at the iridescent SeaBirds and the two-legged butterflies, whose graceful, yet seemingly sinister movements threatened all she had ever known; their foreign eyes, limbs and dances, daintily pretty as they appeared, could be another effort, on the part of the Rectangular Royals, to extract the faeries, to murder and consume her Band, the only family she had ever loved. Her belly rumbled, but she must banish selfish nutrition from her thoughts; her predicament dictated that all her concentration must be upon the survival of her beloved FaeryBand. She had awakened here last Night, surrounded by her petrified Family, strangers to this heavy stultifying Air, an armslength across strange choppy waters from the true home of the humongous hostile Rectangular Royals.

Day 2  

     The Air and Sky colours began their tumultuous changes again. She held her sounds inside, even as the gentle, potentially fear-quashing Sea appeared to rise mere healing inches, beneath her broken feet. She could not interrupt the Rectangular Royals at their Evening Tea-Bath, lest they come for her Tribe of tiny, mute, downy-bodied faeries. She sensed the Royal Rectangles' gargantuan ears would catch even a cottony-cushioned breath.

      "Pssst!" she dreamed she heard. "Pssst! Over here!" A quiet, rain-sweet song bubbled up from the Sea, beneath the bouldered blanket shelter of the ancient Mountain. Faint hope lit her Heart, although she knew the vision must be but a desperate apparition, created by her frantic Soul.

     Her wet eyes touched a Rolling Star, swathed in bold rainbow raiments, wading gracefully as a CloudRunner, in the softer Sea beneath the cavern. "A WaterStar?!" her mind exclaimed, bemused, yet oddly ready to believe rescue could possibly arrive in such an implausible form. In her every distant memory, The Elders had sung whispery tunes of The WaterStars, but she had believed these PeaceCreatures to be their beautiful, loving mythology, conjured to form soothing guardianship to the cruel, violent world she and her Band would inherit. Perhaps she had...passed over? No. Her delicate, blissful family began to sigh silently around her. They had been covered in slumber when she awoke in this angular, belligerent place. The survival of Serena's faery babies and siblings weighed as if a Planet upon her Being. She yearned to show them, once more, their Sun, to assure them their World continued its perpetually golden, harmonious rhythm. She held them close to her, all the teeny, wide-eyed faeries, their tender sweetdough bodies warm inside her embrace.

     The rolling WaterStar's colors sparkled cameleon colors, as she tumbled swiftly, soundlessly toward the Band. Her five points juggled two tiny glowing Suns, each the size of a ping-pong ball, (Serena had viewed the mythical game of "ping pong" inside an early childhood Dream). She felt her little ones' softwarm bodies bulge in delight, like miniscule bread rolls plumping in their ancient mothers' stone ovens. Serena realized she could finally sigh with relief, as the WaterStar smiled into her eyes, and continued her roll toward their hiding cave. As she reached the Faery Band, one of her points ceased juggling (the other four continued); the point rounded into a small, calm paw, its attached, bright-embered, ray-like arm, long enough to accommodate the ascent and board of the entire Band of tiny faeries.

     The two shimmering Suns heated them and the Mountain, the Sea, the Air; Serena and the WaterStar fearlessly beamed. Words felt unnecessary. As Serena clamoured upon a Sun-Full WaterStar arm, her gratitude grew so strong, her Heart sailed out for a Moment, in the purified, kaleidoscopic Air! She knew the WaterStar had not been a FaeryTale; large, melting tears filled her eyes. She finally understood her Ancestors, and their never mythical Faith.