Grandmother Places Poems

“When thoughts cease to flow ~                   ...

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I  cannot recall my very first place 
as a baby I did not know my home; 
a new baby's room dressed with pretty lace...

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No snow has fallen yet,
daises still soak up sunlight,
no wind makes them shiver;
grannies gather outside and chat,
many have silver-gray hair.

Little sparrow afraid of winter
trembling and...

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Let's travel and see what we can see,                 ...

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I squint  just right
And capture a memory almost forgotten
Jars of fruit and honey fresh from hives
Filling shelves in old smokehouse
Home-made butter and molasses
In her...

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People were
Many things.
Strange or not

People were
Different and
Odd and fun.

People were
Monsters but…
That’s not all

People were
And still are
Strange and odd.

People are
People. For
life is life. 

Yet not.
Not is...

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I.

Beirut I love you.
My feisty grandmother
is throwing rice from 
balconies
Bullets, bullets,
in the sky
shooting fate in the eye
what a merry wedding. 

II.

I saw Abu Saed
The cab...

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Some folks believe it. Others do not. The legend told in the Bayou Cannot. The only witness who can swear that it's true, are the...

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spin the lamp all the way down,
 lay low the polio eradic skyline.

 down to where beds exit through
 lime hollow eyelids.

 saint isotope on...

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Being born in the postwar fifties,
after darkness and catastrophe
ascended on all Europe,
I didn't experience cruelty and horror... 
but hope came from the defenders of freedom
from...

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Running memories
of a place in which
one walks and talks
in hushed tones.
Still, subdued, restrained
within a spirited energy
moving down rows of mystical bindings.

Intimate,
smelling musty on a rainy...

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