"You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves." ~Mary Oliver
Sunday, November 15, 2020
Let's Get Small
Friday, November 6, 2020
My Renegade Hand
I once read an article about a rare disorder called "Alien Hand
Syndrome". It's usually associated with a brain trauma, like an infection
or a stroke. Usually, but not always. It happens like this -- One
hand becomes alien to the body, working independently from the rest. You
might not even know it is happening until you catch a bit of movement
from the corner of your eye, only to discover that your own left hand
is flapping away, wild and untamed. Here's the part that is most frightening:
some people with this disorder report that the hand doesn't just operate
independently, it undoes what the first hand has done. It may be discovered
sneaking up behind the first hand, unbuttoning buttons or unzipping zippers. It
may catch a door just before it latches. It may jerk the wheel into oncoming
traffic. This hand, this alien hand, becomes a renegade.
I think about this condition from time to time, the renegade hand. I wonder if this unlikely condition could be to blame for some of my misadventures. Maybe it's the hand that reached up and unraveled an otherwise quiet life. Maybe it's the hand that pushed his button or poked her bruise. Maybe it's the hand that tipped the glass of red wine onto the cream-colored rug or dropped that burning cigarette. Maybe this renegade hand is to blame for the wild and untamed condition of my life. Maybe this renegade hand is to blame for the wild and untamed condition of my hair. Hmm. I suppose that does seem rather unlikely.
Friday, October 9, 2020
Slip Stitch
She kissed the lip of every teacup
in the cupboard,
tasting each daybreak
born on mismatched posies.
Touched every spoon
with damp fingertips,
leaving only the impression of loss.
Whispered into the pockets of overcoats,
a story about cold days
and castoffs.
Asked the spider
behind the bathroom door
to remember to pay the paperboy.
Finally, she touched the corner
of the tattered Afghan throw.
The one with the intricate pattern of squares
holding everything together.
Then she gently pulled a single thread
and began the process
of unraveling every stitch.
Wednesday, August 26, 2020
Something Like It
call it grief
or daybreak.
For the sake of our story,
we'll call it waking up
early on Sunday.
Eggs over easy.
Please walk the dog.
Love,
Or something very like it.
Who boasts victory
with every coin toss.
Who measures time
in lost socks and found pennies.
Who speaks several languages.
Who brags and struts on rainy days.
Love,
Or something very like it.
Who lives in the cracks in driveways.
For the sake of our story
we'll call it hunger
or tiny droplets of water
like little hats on jumping spiders.
And in between the weeds and notes
we'll call it love,
Love,
or something very like it.
Friday, August 21, 2020
The Short of It
Hello Darlings,
This week I was lucky enough to be featured on a lovely site, I Write Her. The theme, The Short of It, features short prose and poetry. I discovered, after reading many of the authors on the site, that I am in very good company. Of course, Susi Bocks sets the atmosphere with her own amazing writing. I'm so very happy to be featured and look forward to reading all the pieces that follow.
Below is the link to my poems and prose but please, don't stop with me. Take a few minutes to wander around and enjoy the scenery. You'll thank me later.
Wednesday, August 19, 2020
Dangerous Coats
Someone clever once said
Women were not allowed pockets
In case they carried leaflets
To spread sedition
Which means unrest
To you & me
A grandiose word
For commonsense
Fairness
Kindness
Equality
So ladies, start sewing
Dangerous coats
Made of pockets & sedition.
Dangerous Coats
-Sharon Owens
Monday, August 10, 2020
Four Degrees of Separation
I waited on Frank Serpico at a farm store in NY
who worked with Al Pacino to make the film Serpico
who worked with Robert DiNiro in The Irishman
who worked with Kevin Bacon in Sleepers.
Tah Dah... four degress of separation.
Love is an outlaw
“Love is the ultimate outlaw. It just won't adhere to any rules. The most any of us can do is to sign on as its accomplice. Instead of vowing to honor and obey, maybe we should swear to aid and abet.
~Tom Robbins
Tuesday, August 4, 2020
Truth
Monday, March 16, 2020
Something's Going to Happen Today
Someone's going to love me
or I'm going to have to move on without an apology.
Something is going to break my heart a little
and something else is going to salve my wounds.
This life will have it's way with me
and I will live or die in a single breath.
My skin will feel like a stranger's overcoat
or my body will fall smoothly into the familiar dip in the mattress.
Life is going to sing me to sleep
in some new place.
Something is going to surprise me a little.
and something else will fall away.
This life is going to crack me wide open
and beauty will surprise me
and sorrow will wreck me
and love will move me
because something is going to happen.
It always does.