Posts Tagged ‘flying’

Freeing The Caged Venus: Revolutionary Sonnet

April 16, 2017

At her old house, post omelet, rose’d Venus stood:
Scared, caged bird nervously contemplating a chance.
As she paced back and forth across her floor of wood:
Should she venture out and fly to far-off France?
Surprised Venus, uncaged. April, 2017, Emerald Downs MyWayDay
It was easy for others to advise her
on how, when and what she should do, where to go.
But she needed her loved Universe to surprise her
(like when she’d dined with Maya Angelou).

With her passport, small backpack, underwear, comfortable shoes,
she took a deep breath and launched her my way living.
Experiential, experimental, however she’d choose.
Taking, discovering, still rising, loving, giving.

At her request, this is an on-going birthday sonnet.
Because her best beat goes on! She is not done yet.

Flying To The City Of New Orleans, Crying: Revolutionary IMprov Haiku

August 21, 2015

As I wait to fly/
to N’awleans, my daughter’s/
note moves me to tears.

The Constancy Of Wild Geese: Revolutionary Email Free Verse Poetry

December 31, 2014

My family always
calls each other,
twice a year:
“The wild geese are flying!”

“I’ll be right there!”
We grab cups of coffee,
throw on layers,
and brisk walk to the lake.

Ice, black and mottled,
or silver and new,
covers the bays
and inlets,
but, somewhere,
waves are breaking through.
There is open water.

From far away,
carried on cold breezes
which sting our ears
and tear our eyes,
we hear the familiar call.

“HuhUUuh. HuhUUuh.”
We peer out over the lake,
up,
until we see them,
the familiar V
cutting through the wind.

And we laugh,
and jump up and down,
and wave,
and cry.

I’ve wondered why
it stirs us;
why we always
run to see them,
as certainly as they
always
fly.

Do they look for us,
standing on the shore,
waving,
watching,
calling,
crying?

Does the dip of their wings
as they land,
one after the other,
say to us
“Hello, old friends,
ground-bound.
Good to see you.
Thanks for the welcome.
Your clothes never match,
but they make us laugh!
HuuuUHH. HuuuUHH!”

Probably not.

But we can pretend.

Maybe we run
and listen
and search
and watch
because they remind us
of our place.

We join with them
in the great globe,
spinning,
circling,
returning again
and again
and again.

They take away
our winter fears.
Steel us against the
incoming!
cold,
or soar
our spirits
with promise
and hope
and upcoming
warmth.

As long as they fly,
life goes on
as it has,
as it will,
as it should.

We can
and will
continue
to spread our wings,
to fly,
to run,
to call,
to wave,
to cry,
to laugh,
to believe,
to know our place
in things,
as long as there is
the constancy
of wild geese.

Pictured As Grounded: Revolutionary Blogging Haiku

December 5, 2013

Jumping in a grass field in Midway, Utah
The photos always/
show me, though jumping*, grounded./
But I know better.

OR

*dancing,
Midway grass field dancing

Brian’s Birthday Flights: IMprov Limerick

November 24, 2013

There once was an artist named Brian
whose passion in life was flyin’.
Whether cruising in the the sky
or with wine flights and buds gettin’ high,
of his Lebensfreude there was no denyin’.

Being The Restroom Conductor: Revolutionary ConTEXTing Haiku

March 16, 2012

Flying with a sore /
back means I stand and become/
the restroom conductor