April 2016 Poem A Day #1 - Broken

Broken

glasses, plates, mirrors,
ashtrays, mugs, bottles, bowls,
candle holders, coffee carafes,
every item of glass
in small pieces on the floor,
three inches deep
everywhere here
in this studio apartment,
testament to anger
pent up
from love
unexpressed,
and fearing
abandonment,
she sweeps it all
takes out the bags,
buys paper plates
before he gets
home.

                  - Mar (Mistryel) Walker

This was written using Robert Brewer's April 1st prompt for the April 2016 Poem A Day Challenge on the Writer's Digest web site which directed participants to write a foolish poem where the writer was foolish or where there was a prank of some kind.    This is not so much a prank but a crisis in a one party's perception of a relationship, and a decision by that person not to bring it up - yet.
 http://www.writersdigest.com/whats-new/2016-april-pad-challenge-day-1

Dia Beacon then Hudson River gawking

This is a view of one of the giant sculptures on view at Dia in the lower level. A friend invted me on this excursion, and rather than wait around all day for primary results I thought, why not a day trip.  You can walk inside these metal pieces and if you sing a little the echo is stunning.  Later we stumbled into the parking lot of the Beacon train station which is right on the Hudson River. On this balmy Feb. day I needed no coat, hat or gloves - but ice was still in the river from last weeks -9 temps. Weird. We later had an early dinner at Max's on Main in Beacon. Great day.

Women of the World Poet Saroya Marsh

Bang! by Saroya Marsh in surprise February feature before the White Plains Library's slam.

Wednesday at the spur of the moment I decided to go to the White Plains Library to see Zork and Sweetie. Hadn't seen them in a while. For the first time in a long time, I read a poem in an open mic. On this night, that was after falling flat on my face getting on the stage. Really. Literally. Nose to carpet. Oh well. 

The format at the White Plains Library is, open mic, FEATURED POET, then last the SLAM. And on this night, another poet had cancelled and  Saroya Marsh  - an educator, poet, personable activist, "voice for the voiceless," and high power performer was the feature!  See the Split Journal Interview  Check out her Poets & Writers page  

Later at the diner, big smiles

Zork and Sweetie, slam veterans. Zork runs the White Plains Slam. They are also known for a crazy vlog, BedVlogs - recorded fully clothed in bed. (yes you read that right)

New Years Eve Crazy & Sawaya's Art of the Brick

Love this red fellow on the right who is busy rebuilding himself as we all hope to do each New Year's. And the one below who is witnessing something from behind his grey curtain, a new view that makes him gasp - we don't know why.

The images are LEGO sculptures I viewed in the Vero Beach Art Museum in November. The show was called "Art of the Brick," and the creator is American artist Nathan Sawaya. All are made from LEGOs.  He is interviewed in the documentary LEGOS, the Brickumentary, which is actually quiet an odd and interesting film.

Don't quite know what to hope for the world in the coming year. The property of crazy expands with each passing day. I don't know that it's getting larger though. Might be diffusion. Maybe it's just spreading out which will have the effect of dilution. Maybe. Or it might be infection. Ah well.

Have already watched several sets of glitzy techno-tainment fireworks with totally unappealingly overproduced music tying it all together. From several different countries. Is there just one school of fireworks showmanship in all the earth? Probably taught at Neilson Ratings. Ha ha. Actually I really liked the fireworks just not the music they are saddled with....

Anyway, happy new year. It's now 2 am. I was supposed to go somewhere at 11PM to ring in the year. Off to a questionable start.  But then the future always is an open question isn't it. (Determinists you are excluded from this thought) Ting-a-ling.

GO GET YER DARN FLU SHOT FER PITY SAKE!

Well, I'm having a little opinion. It's like a dizzy spell or a feverish dream where you yell a little.

You know I love you - but nonetheless I have seen so many crazy posts in the last few days. So I advise you to proceed and read with caution and a grain of salt. Just remember to read the OMGs REALLY LOUDLY.

Planes get safety checks before every take off but OMG some still crash so let's just stop checking those planes cause obviously checking is the cause....People who wear seatbelts get killed in car crashes every day - yet we still wear seatbelts. OMG!! People who breathe the air are constantly dying every day yet we still breathe the air!!!\

Warning!! Warning:

Prior sequence does not equal causation. Doing something followed by death is the condition of every human being - every single one. (OMG!!) We're all going to die of something. Sometimes it'll be flu. Flu can kill - that's why we get a flu shot and most of the time it prevents or lessens the course of the flu. Sometimes the person might die anyway - the vaccine targeted a different strain, or the person had a compromised system and immunity was not conferred.

But I know that you know what you know, driven as you are. So go ahead. Throw away one of the readily available and inexpensive benefits of modern research and skip your shots. And drive without your seat belt, represent yourself in court, refuse to breathe this contaminated air!!! LIFE IS JUST TOO Dangerous!

I'm so sorry. Please accept this big cyber bear-hug.
Oh wait. I had a flu shot a few days ago. Maybe you better not.....

Soprano Claire Stadtmueller at the Richter House

I really enjoyed this concert. It took me away from my loss a bit.  The soprano was personable, the music introductions were readable and funny. And things got even better as they went along. You don't get the full overtone effect from this video's sound. It was quite spectacular!

 I also was surprised to find Richter had a YouTube Channel!

Things can change so suddenly

Thinks sure took a turn since April. Not with the program even yet though I guess I will eventually be okay.

In May, we found out Mom was at the end stage of one of her conditions. Only 19 days later, under the gentile  in home care of hospice, she died just the way she had wanted to go - at home. Not many get that wish. It was the hardest, saddest month of my life and June was a close second to it.

We didn't have a service right off. To accommodate various folks who wanted to attended but had some problems with timing, Mom's graveside memorial service wasn't for another month, finally held in the middle of June.  It was a service full of difficult poems, thoughtful metaphor, woven together by Master Integral Coach Reggie Marra who officiated. My cousin Jim did a really stellar job on the eulogy, commemorating Mom, not as she was most recently - but as she was in her hey day.  And then there was music by fellow poet and songwritter, Shijin member, former director of the CT Folk Festival - Alice Anne Harwood Sherill. Amazing Grace and Simple Gifts. I cried and cried.

I am doing okay. Finding out what I have to do. Frankly when nobody is around my face is still stuck in deadpan - even when I am not feeling badly - it seems to be the underlying condition for now. I take little steps. I carry little boxes. I breathe in. I breathe out. One foot follows the other. And so it goes.

Can't say enough good things about Regional Hospice and Home Care. I couldn't have lived through May without them. Hugs to everyone.