RED

I wonder why I like 
the color of chili peppers red
throughout my house
The color of fire

a wake up for when I'm tired
a warm glow 
an inviting store of red memories. 

The little red wagon 
from my L.A. kiddie days
The geranium leaves I picked for
pretend house play
the plaid uniform for
Catholic school first grade
the lipstick Mommy elegantly wore
a Christmas bow on the door

Oh give me red in these Northern skies
and the image of Ricky's collar as 
she jumps for a tennis ball oh so high
Give me my lover's red hair and her lips in bed
give me fire and love and passion
in the color Red.

(Oak Park, IL 2004)

And Out Came...

Somewhere 
a while back I filed away my passion
to write poetry
I unzipped an old back pack of
self-doubt
Out came a dusty, ugly face
a screaming little monster
that sits on my left shoulder
a favorite spot as it whispers
why do it? No one will read it 
or care

OK you little rascal
that's it

get on your bike
put on your helmet
and leave

You're the same creature I used
to douse with whiskey and wine
I'd put you to sleep
as I started a paragraph and a creative line
worried that you'd wake up
any minute now
and beg to be fed.

Nighty-night Little Ugly One
Go to sleep
back to the 20th century
and leave me the fuck alone. 

Aurora, IL 8/21/2008

Autumn

Autumn

The October light
meets each car
at the four way stop
an intersection
illuminating tired
men and women
aiming the wheels
with purpose
to be on time
while little boys
and girls in formation
skip down the sidewalk
with backpacks
and a similar
determination
as glistening leaves
fall

the roar of a city truck
nearby
approaching them
with gusto
and a shovel
for fallen grace and leaves
that float by

the boys and girls
the men and women
who stop in obedience
for the rules
of the road
but not to
catch the light
of a drifting
downward bit of
summer's face.

Oak Park, IL 2006

When Tony moved out...

You left behind in this place
your gentle friendship
a sweet way of lending a hand
an open smile
to the children in us all
a model of patience
and discipline
in difficult times
and with unruly people
you left behind
in my heart a huge box of memories
of hugs shared
laughter found
for the unveiling
of my imperfections
like leaving too many
cabinet doors open
and running myself
on a treadmill
out my window
or pouring coffee
on an upside down
cup
You left
behind in this place
a treasure of memorable times
too long to list
for you have left in my heart
a space where I will hold
the thoughts of you
not just like someone who lived
here that I learned to respect,
to like and to love
but more like a good friend
and a sister whom I
will constantly miss.

December 19, 2006

Oh Dear the Fear of it All

I am like a wasteland of thought
caught in a mental knot
having a home in the South that years ago
I bought
an apartment up here in the North
where I work and travel
no
I commute during the coldest parts
of the year
so my question to you dear
Goddess
is
Why
What is my purpose in this place
as I putter like
every other rat
in the human race?
When I think about
going home I will
still spend too much time
alone
I don't cherish
Denise
her entire way of being
often annoys me
and that is a Big Problem
Because it's nothing about
Fearing Little Her
It is about Fearful
Me.
August 2004

NB - September 30, 2012
And now reading this
how I wish I could have her back
hear her tired angry, stressed, tired voice
how I wish I could hug her again
and be held.  How I miss you My Angel,
My Denise.

Coltrane and Me

When I hear Coltrane
and his saxophone playing
against the backdrop of
soft-pedaled notes
on a jazz piano
I relax, close my eyes
and then
I'm back in New York City
on Bleeker Avenue
or maybe Basil's on 7th Avenue
and I'm in a black sexy dress
smoking a thin cigar
yes, a thin cigar
and holding a fluted glass
that I tap with my fingers
long red painted nails
fizzy bubbles moving
a little back and forth
and the blues notes
of a darkened club dance
over my table
and I smile at the musicians on
my personal stage
as I shift my weight
a little bit forward
hungry to embrace
the notes of
A Love Supreme.

Te pareces a tu mamá

I look in the mirror as I put
on the color rinse to my hair
and recognize a certain look
that as I age returns you to
me in that mirror
and then haunts me as you follow
me with your judging gaze

The magic in the box will
take away the natural grey
much more than that
it shall put off and delay

the moment of my coming to terms
with the hardening fact that
outwardly I am becoming you

while with fierce intention
I place the dye on my head
and wait
and charge against my future
with the energy of my past

you know
those teen years
when I hated you were my mother
and I that was your daughter

and look here I am
becoming you
and still resisting you
with the promise on the box
that the grey will go away
but the reason for
the treatment will not.

 Austin, TX 2011