Temptations

 

Just how did those Mystics do it?

Sacrificing, tortured souls

Eyes pointed heavenward to avoid temptation?


While we mere mortals struggle and yet so easily fall


Our confessions for all to see:

An empty box of Girl Scout Thin Mint™ cookies
Recent Comments
Kate Hymes
Thin Mints were always my weak spot. I was one of the GS Moms who volunteered to distribute cookies. I would have boxes and boxes ... Read More
Tuesday, 28 April 2015 21:11
Melissa Fischer
Even reading this brings back the tantalizing smell of Thin Mints.
Wednesday, 06 May 2015 11:56
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2 Comments

Shopping in New Paltz

It’s a sweet little village with mountains in view
There are bistros, and cafès, and much you can do.
You can climb up a mountain, swim in a lake,
See an eagle, an egret, a bear and a snake.
The Sincere Pumpkin Patch you will find here,
And leaves in the autumn are beyond compare
We have writers and actors and artists galore
But one thing we don’t have is a General Store.
You can’t get a curtain, a teapot, a blind,
And umbrellas and beach balls you never will find.
No pocketbook, wallet, no change purse, no hat,
No nightgown, no bathrobe, no baseball, no bat,
Not a high chair, a beach chair, a bench or a stool,
Not a towel, a sheet, colored thread on a spool.
No sticker, no sweater, no glove for the snow,
No bedspread, no pillow, no trumpet to blow.
Not a fabric, a scissors, a pattern for fitting,
A doghouse, a bird house, or needles for knitting.
No cloth for your table, no bra and no stocking,
No curtain rod, bath mat, nor chair made for rocking,
If you’re troubled, we have sixty therapists here,
But you can’t buy a clothespin in New Paltz—nowhere.
Recent comment in this post
Site Admin
I can't help but wonder if there is a link between no sundries and the need for all that therapy. Also: no decent pickles!... Read More
Thursday, 16 April 2015 16:34
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1 Comment

Waltz

Full teacup
Wet teaspoon
One blue plate
One thin moon

Full teacup
One long night
Two bare feet
One bare light

Full teacup
Weathered floor
Three green chairs
One shut door

Full teacup
Empty room
One white pill                        
One thin moon
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Maybe a Love Poem

My fingers know the tideline where mustache meets lip
like sea grass giving way to sand.
The fine hairs on my cheek dip in the wind of his easy breath.
My hand remembers the warm, solid back of him,
as sure as sunrise and sliced apples.
My heart laughs at all the years I struggled
to keep my bricks and sheetrock strong
so no mortar crumbled,
so need could not escape,
nor dependence enter.
My soul learned that surrender
is as simple as sand.
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Lament

We had magic.
We had youth.
We had bodies as supple as saplings.

The choir called us and we sang.
The red earth held us and we touched the morning stars.
The velvet night hugged us close
and we rested in soft oblivion.

We had magic.
We had youth.
We had bodies that flowed like water.

The trees shadowed us while we danced.
The sun spangled the dew on our hair.
The ocean offered us its bounty
and we were fed.

We had magic.
We had youth.
We had bodies of bone and tendon
and innocence.

We had magic.
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