Routine Status meg I’m Late

I’m Late
I’m Late
For a Very Important
Posting,
Russian influences
On the Brain 🧠
My Thumb Pain
Gone
Then
Back Again,
Lonely Train,
That Dreaded Brain Pain,
Routine Interrupted.
Doesn’t Seem Like Much,
Work Through The Pain,
Spasms, Fatigue and Such.
Then Russian Influence
Like the Static in my Nerves,
Can Cause Crying 😢 panic 😱 or Shame 👎🏻
As Invisible Waves split my nerve fibers,
Making Limbs and Brain so Lame 😒
So pardon
I’m Late,
Watching Snafu’s besides Mine,
Taking my mind off my routine,
Whew,
Posting just in Time 😎🌻🐝🖋☎️

Tweets and Poetry and The Universe

The Tweets from the Universe started with this great one...

The universe may have a purpose, but nothing we know suggests that, if so, this purpose has any similarity to ours. pic.twitter.com/lr2rzqBKLF

— Prof. Antonio Paris (@AntonioParis) December 12, 2015

then more followed

No Matter How Wealthy How Successful How Blessed Everything Is Meaningless Like Chasing After Wind A Gathering Of Dust 2 Dust #micropoetry

— Andrew Carnegie (@ACPCarnegie) December 12, 2015

@AntonioParis @marygerdt Symmetry Of Universe Cascades Raw Beginnings Hydrogen Begun Yet Which Tool Created Rule 4Early Sun #micropoetry

— Andrew Carnegie (@ACPCarnegie) December 12, 2015

@marygerdt @AntonioParis Mystery In The Now Mystery In The How But Not In The Why The Why Was Known 4000 Years Ago Folk Forget #micropoetry

— Andrew Carnegie (@ACPCarnegie) December 12, 2015

And meanwhile,
in another time and place,
we got sad news on several levels,

Art Hangs It Up For the Last Time https://t.co/0J6hMwsLYK

— ArtBell.Com (@ArtBellCom) December 12, 2015

Song of Beginning

Song of Beginning

12.1.2014 by mary e. gerdt

all rights reserved

Start,

Now,

Beginning to begin.

Stop,

there,

You're doing that again.

Start,

When,

Your heart tells you to grow.

Stop,

That,

We all want you to know.

Start,

Stop,

Because you are so free.

Stop,

Start,

Now you are going to see.

Poet

Poet

Poet, Poet,

Why don't you Rhyme?

You wanted to be

Different

That's OK, Poet.

You wanted to be

Recognized

Oh, Poet,

You wanted so much.

Poet, Poet,

You wanted to make a statement,

be bold,

make a difference in the minds of mortals

Is that so Bad, after all?

Poet, Poet,

What makes you so sad?

What makes your heart ache?

Why do you, who do you, when do you love?

Poet, oh Poet,

They don't care, 

and don't you know it,

You tried there in your words

in a poem, to show it,

They said, you cannot be,

A Poet, don't you see?

And 

Poet, Oh Poet,

You said, No.

And the Poetry police said,

It doesn't Rhyme,

Make sense,

No Rhythm,

No theme,

Structure is nonexistent.

Poet, Oh Poet, walk away.

You are a poet.

In your own way.

Summer reruns

A rerun of one of my favorites.

Summer memories are warm and sweet. I wanted to share a poem even while fearing once I let it out I will be unable to ever outdo it in feeling and depth of myself immersed therein.


Coyote Night by Mary Gerdt * 2008 all rights reserved
When we walk down a road in the dark,
And the Coyotes are crying their mournful cry,
The smells of summer drift and hang in the valley
And little night birds chirp goodnight.
The stars peek out from the clouds of August mist
The moon hangs over the hills by home.
My memories fade to days gone by
When we looked at the nights from inside.
Now we walk on the path outside
Not afraid anymore.
While the coyotes cry.

Sunday Poem

Sunday

Time seems a little

hurried at times,

chores compressing rest,

all the rest,

what has to be done,

then we must

sit a

spell.

It is the day

we catch up all week

after saying

Monday through Saturday

I'll do it

tomorrow.

Even chores though

seem a little easier

just because it is

Sunday.

Sunday,

the air a little lighter,

for knowing we

can still say,

it is Sunday,

I'll do it tomorrow.

Brass and Ivory: Life with MS & RA: Poetry and Quotes

Blogging forward...Lisa's Poem & Challenge

by Lisa Emrich, MS/RA expert Blogger advocate musician extraordinaire

Brass and Ivory: Life with MS & RA: Poetry and Quotes: Today's prompt for the Health Activist Writer's Month Challenge is - "Choose a quote that inspires you – positively or negatively – and gets...

Town Meeting Day Rag

Town Meeting day in Monkton, Vermont
Will be attended by the usual group of
Yellers yelling Yeah and Nay and
some getting a kick out of kicking
the little people with the little voices.

Is it really worth it to attend a meeting of people
Who will give me that look, the ones
Who have ignored my property tax fight for over a year
oh wait, no they didn't ignore me per se, they voted against me.

I have spent 30 years of contemplating what this place is,
How did I get here,
Retro migrating West to East,
Unlike those in the old cemetery who migrated straight down.

When I hear a noise I cannot explain in this old house,
I want to blame it on the restless dead,
Are they saying "Stay" or are they saying "Go"?
Listen harder, was it "Yes" or "No"?

And did the old people struggle through,
never knowing what to do
when the taxes ate their bread
and look there, they are all dead.

Staying home, my vision crystal clear,
I am envisioning a future, I believe it is near,
Where we keep our bread, we keep our farm
Town Meeting is passe,
There will be no more harm.

03.01.2011
mary gerdt
monkton,vermont

Sparkling Snow

Re-posting a past poem.
Today the sun is so low in the sky, the snow sparkled a long time. It looked like jewels. I forgot how pretty that is and am happy for the clear sunny sky even if that means it is colder.
Ready for the solstice this week...



Sparkling Snow
Sparkling Snow**all rights reserved

by mary gerdt

It happened today,

when I thought some great thoughts,

that peace would come

and

all hunger would stop

and the sick would rejoice when their pain went away

and the lonely will find a friend and the sad will smile.

It happened.

The snow sparkled like never before.

Is that a start?

Karma Chameleon

Karma
seems to change Colors,
sometimes,
Right before your eyes.

Sometimes it is invisible,
A silent sort of revenge,
But never doubt that Karma can,
And does,
Get back again.

I sat upon a blanket blue,
Karma sat down beside me,
I said, can you see me now?
Karma said I am blinded.

I sat on a red carpet of hate,
Karma acted like he didn't notice,
Next thing I knew, I slipped and fell,
Karma gave a poultice.

I sat and marvelled at the mountains green,
Waiting for Karma to make a scene,
The dust it settled,
Leaves were fallen,
Nowhere was Karma seen,

Then I saw him move, invisible,
The color of what he sat on,
Karma came to pay me back,
He was Karma, Karma, Chameleon.

Farewell Color

Farewell Color, Color farewell.

Beyond peak color now,

The leaves they fell,

Color is gone now,

Color farewell.

The Devil

The Devil

The Devil is in the details,

or sometimes in our house,

de-tails,

a silly way of saying

our rambunctious cats

raise hell

here.

The Devil is in the details,

of all the plans you make,

Having thought,

 if you think

something

then shall it be,

like

God.

The Devil is in the details

is a handy way of saying

it was too hard,

or

some pointy eared all red

guy with a tail and red pitchfork

is making me unsuccessful.

It started out as the God in the details,

a more glass half full kind of thinking.

But that maybe sounded too hopeful,

or positive, or together-minded.

Instead, the saying has become

The Devil in the Details

and

It does quite quickly describe a

quandry or quagmire or

failure or

f up.

Do I have to spell it out?

There's that devil, again.

(that's She devil to you, buddy...)

A Message Inside

A Message Inside

a message inside,
dying to come out
and there i was,
waiting.

a message inside,
telling me to
or not,
which was it?

a message inside,
was it from some
deity, idol
or hero?

a message inside,
a voice,
a saying
you hear without
thinking.

a message inside 
between the lines
on the white part of the paper.

Is that where it belongs?

Due Process Do

Due Process Do,

Sorry, didn't mean to be so loud....

Wait a minute!

Was that the Fifth or Fourteenth amendment?

Due Process Do,

Due process do


You know

What to do?

Two pathways to

Take

Which one do you?

One path is won

one is lose.

Which path do I choose?

How much do I chew?

Due Process is do,

They told me to ...

Guess I'll choose to chew ,

test if I am due
nothing else to do,
5th or 14th
halls of shame for who?
no sweat
been there too.
 

Light and Dark

Light: Our Vet gave us a discount and we are beyond grateful.

Dark: thoughts for no reason:

Because people die even on sunny days,
words try to describe who they were,
obituaries:
abbreviated, exaggerated, underated, misinterpreted, inaccurate, or accurate, and all in juxtiposition to the truth, sometimes.

Words written in the obit page of people
I see there are no guest entries.
One man died in World War 2.
How could his friends keep track? How few survive now who even knew him?
Died 65 years before the internet connection
I am writing this on,
Lonely words,

Died without current relationships, friends, predeceased by all who loved them.
Memories if there are any alive stunted, arrested on a baby faced kid with
dreams in his eyes,
and no guest entries,
Let me.

Your lonely guest book told me your are with your friends and family clearly in a heaven surrounded by the Vermont mountains of 1945. Wooden skis, jalopy fun, music on the radio and lying on the parlor floor, dreaming of your future.

Bureaucratica

Dedicated to fellow co-workers, the government employees who suffer working in the system we must have and yet always is a complicated quagmire of opposing political directives incrementally f*ing things up to the point of exhaustion on our part, the bureaucratic gnats who juggle, throw and dodge regulations to the best of their human abilities.

Bureaucratica,
Bureaucratica,

Give me more paper please,

Give me more ink,



Print some more paper

Cure my bureaucratic dis-ease.
My well has run dry,

Criteria recalled,

Print protocols,

Criteria

Recalled.

My life is printer to mailbox,

Phone message to e-mail,

Paper or plastic

None of this rhymes.

I wonder just how,

We can juggle it all,

Then who will pay,
Where will it fall.

For now I am a bureaucrat,

Legislated to be here,

A paper pushing gnat

For another fiscal year.

Visions

Visions

Visions of a brighter future.

The hope of the hopeless is special indeed.
The wishes of the poorest, a fulfillment of need.
The getting up each day to face the battle ahead.
Harder some days than others until we are dead.

Did you wake up in a dumpster?
Or a box beside a road?
Did you bathe down in the culvert?
Do you carry a heavy load?


Did you watch a vulture watch you
and wonder when and why
Your days are really numbered?
That destiny has died?

We should all envision
A world free from strife,
Hunger and unhappiness,
For the rest of all our life.


2010
by mary e. gerdt,
monkton,vermont

Morning Light

Morning light

An early visitor these days,
These lazy summer days.

Coffee on, Cats howl for food,
Same routine,
I never thought I would need routine,
Wanting to be free from ruts and
establishment thinking.

Was it ever establishment I was fighting?
Or my own inertia, my feeling of being
outside a world where how could I say I am not a part of,
When I gaze sleepily at the
morning light.

Just a Normal Day

Just a normal day
It was.

Just a normal day
Because,

The sun it shone
But not too much,

The wind was calm
and mild and such,

The moon came up
but not too soon,

The air smelled sweet
with a soft perfume,

The birds they sang a plain fine song,
The squirrels gathered nuts all day long.

Just a normal day
That's fine.

I'll take a normal day anytime.

We are one

We are one

Can there be a doubt?
Can you figure out,
How there could be
A way besides

We are one?

And if there is
No start or end
When you get through it
Where did it go?

We are one

Time has no end
or beginning
An endless sphere of time
Spinning so fast

You never saw it go.
But did it?

We are one

Remember when
You hurt your friend
How it hurt?

We are one
At the end of the day,
The begining really and
End all in one.

We are one.