Nancy Watts Blog

Self Discovery

2011-10-29T10:23:00.003-04:00

Self Discovery

I sat in a meeting once; a school improvement meeting, as my children were in elementary school at the time. The principal asked the members what we dreamed of becoming when we were children growing up. Answers ran the gambit from doctor, lawyer, accountant, to ballerina, athlete, and rock star. When it was my turn to answer, I took no hesitation and replied...a mom! At first people were aghast, taken aback. How could a child not dream past the captivity of parent hood? This is not a career, a calling. Then there was embarrassment, as all of these people were parents themselves.

Yes, I replied. I have always wanted to be a mom! I loved my mother, my childhood growing up, the idea of loving and being loved in return; unconditional love, I believed, that existed only between a parent and child. I devoted %110 of my time, patience, and self to the nurturing of my two children. Night after sleepless night of feedings, fevers, and night terrors. The reading of books, rocking to sleep, and eventually sending off to school; where the influence of the outside world could undo the morals we, as mothers, so meticulously instill.

Fatherhood is a different beast. Men define themselves by what they do; I'm a doctor, a lawyer, a government stiff. When their career is defined, and financial status secured, then, they look to accessorizing with wife and children. All the while, however, that part of who they are, the career, never waivers. They go to work every day secure in the knowledge that the doctors appointments will be scheduled, school lunches packed, homework completed, and wife will be happy to greet him at the door, as long as the paycheck is in hand.

Then, the day comes when the children don't need round the clock care. It is enough that they know your physical presence is located in the kitchen or living room where they can easily access you if need be; god forbid you be in the bathroom, bedroom, or laying on a beach somewhere, their world falls apart. Now you are asked the question, “What are you going to do with the rest of your life?” People now want to know how you are going to make a living, pay for college, support the house hold. All the while you thought you had a career, and your home was it.

So I started on a journey; one of self discovery. Who was I? What interests and passions did I possess past those of the immediate needs of my family? They should never have asked, because I found I did have them; and the universe fell apart. I revealed abilities within myself I did not know existed.

SMILE FOR ME

2011-06-08T07:24:00.002-04:00

Smile for me

Show my reflection
through scintillating eyes
Radiate your warmth
from dimpled cheeks

Share one thousand thoughts
coaxing concupiscent dreams
with a mere visage

Melt away my vulnerability
using only the soft fullness
of your wanting lips...

HALLOWEEN

2011-01-30T16:40:00.000-05:00

HALLOWEEN

Sky lines filled with rich aromas of hearty green tea
no longer wet my palate; instead golden pound cake
dipped into robust flavored coffees give one last burst
before winter's slumber

succulent fruits turn to pumpkin pie and the
elephant's eyes search the mazes for children
dressed as goblins and ghosts.

Life's Breath

2010-11-01T20:34:00.002-04:00

You two
are life sustaining
My world
umbilically tied
to one
rhythmic beat

And I grasp for air
waiting
for time to allow me
to once again
breathe easy.

My lungs
fail me
Pain sears
my chest wall
My heart aches

And I grasp for air
waiting
for time to allow me
to once again
breathe easy

Life's Breath

Du'a Khalil Aswad

2010-08-15T15:36:00.001-04:00

Recoil into your resistance
into your self
into fetal dreams
that once nourished you...

For man, in his dominance
is dehumanizing;
shrouding your dignity
under the feigning of salvation...

Let go the remnant
of this mortal life.
Induce reverie's delivery
to a celestial sphere filled with love...

Resile your fear and subjugation
allowing your supernal soul to flourish
with all the purpose you were born...

The Stoning...

When winter winds
fellate through naked limbs
clinging to their trunks
howling and moaning

When the sun submeres
into a cold dark sea
not allowing the sky to blush

When thick fog
breaths heavy on the ground
indifferent to the beads of rain
slipping from the lashes of
the meadow's wild flowers

Then Mother Nature did not prepare
her daughters well...

For the forces known as man.

As Nature Would Have It...

Why don't women invest their assets
At whose cost do children end their futures
What is the price tag on human worth

The reason all beings continue or stop...

Give me the going rate for a smile
Is there a fee for a word of encouragement
How much is the outlay for a headstone

One that reads "Much Beloved"...

Real Power isn't in an external portfolio
It is in an internal stockpile of consumer confidence
Owned and operated to share the wealth

People live to be valued...

Personal Fortune...

This set of poems is dedicated to Du'a Khalil Aswad.
All children should be allowed to pursue their dreams.

Tilghman's Island

2010-08-15T15:34:00.002-04:00

Tilghman's Island

The air felt like summer's friend; maybe a sibling, older and wiser. It had an autumn calm that threaded her tires as she crossed the Chesapeake Bay Bridge. Sails, each filled with the season's last breath puffing toward the horizon, caught the corner of her eye. And her thoughts turned whimsical.

Memories, like candid snap shots of a playful summer's afternoon, filled her head: Dark hair, dimpled cheeks, and eyes that spoke to her when he smiled. Golden tan, early August heat, and a cool wind that skirted through her sundress as she emerged from her car. These were the flashes that gave texture to her dreams.

She met him at a road side stand while picking fresh produce: A pint of strawberries so ripe one could not tell where the berry ended and the edge of her lips began. Then there were the peaches; succulent and soft, with chin dripping juices that seep from the corners of your mouth, and he, with his roguish good looks. He helped her to her car. Placing the basket of fruits in her trunk, their fingers grazed one another, and emotions stirred.

Today it was the smell of Old Bay permeating the air that drove her toward Tilgman's Island. Trucks clawing the curb-sides posted signs tolling Steamed Crabs and her heart fluttered at the thought of seeing him again. But the fruit carts now hosted squash and zucchini. Fields once green with watermelon, grew pumpkins for suburban front porches.

Down shifting, the engine slowed as her Audi TT convertible crunched pebbles, rumbling into that same snapshot in time. Engaging in conversation over the fall flowers and Indian corn displays, she casually inquired of the young man who had helped her only a few months back. “College”, was the reply. She nodded with an ironic acceptance; “mine too”, she acknowledged, smiling, and continued on her way to Tilghman's Island.

Voices In The Sand

2010-08-15T15:29:00.001-04:00

The sand, soaked in mid-day sun, scorched her feet. “I wish I had worn my flip flops.” entered her mind while she played hopscotch to relieve the burn as she made her way to the water's edge. Tranquil surf greeted her. Gentle waves lapped against the shore accepting imprints of passerby's.

Careful to check the tides, she placed her chair just out of reach of encroaching waves and into the direction of the sun. The breeze shook yesterday's sand from her blue and white stripped towel as she lay on her stomach, having wriggled an impression in the sand.

With arms raised above a make shift pillow, warm granules rolled across her fingertips creating a sound like coffee scooped from its canister. Soon, feet crunching between sun bathers melded with voices in the distance; voices reverberated through the sand. Children laughed, women talked, and people interacted with one another. “People Listening” rather than “People Watching” coined itself in her mind as she lay there with her eyes closed and senses open to all that was going on around her.

She focused in on a conversation similar to tuning in to a radio program. Bits and pieces of superfluous talk: A mother handed her child a juice box and carrot sticks, two boys discussed the depth of the hole they were about to dig, and a little girl who had to pee.

“Just go in the ocean.” Her mother directed. “Sit down in the waves, no one will know.”

Then came the laughter, genuine laughter born of familiarity, comfort and reminiscent emotions. One could differentiate this joy because it was deep and meaningful as apposed to shallow and insincere. And it intrigued her. Having begun the season on her own, she missed the camaraderie of her girlfriends and listened in.

Voices In The Sand...

Sailor

2010-02-04T19:53:00.003-05:00

My dream catcher
Sits atop a lighthouse
Waiting for that ship in the night

A sailor, with the look of
A beautiful horizon in his eyes
Has lips that whisper words
As gentle as the trade winds

His touch is as soft as
The island flowers
And his presence brings
Adventures of past voyages
Stirring passions that
Create the sweetest nectar
Ever to be tasted

When the dunes finally
Receive the force of the ocean’s tide
Hurricanes will blow
And the stillness of this island beach
Will be awakened once again

SAILOR

Mêlée

2010-02-04T19:49:00.000-05:00

Your eyes fluttered
As if in deep REM’s
But this is no dream
Just stark contradictions in reality
For what feels like a dream
Is yours for the asking
And the real pleasure
Is accompanied by
The pain of conflict

Mêlée

The Kiss

2010-02-04T19:47:00.000-05:00

Butterflies
Conjured thoughts of
The sound of his voice
Prickly?
Tickly?
Smooth, moist
Like space with no air
Succumbed intimacy

THE KISS

PRIVATION

2009-11-16T18:49:00.001-05:00

There was a moment, a connection
when the breeze whispered
your inner privation.

I stood silent and listened...

Its rustling stirred the smell of Jasmine
embedded in your dreams,
blowing through my fingers, wanting to take hold.

PRIVATION

To My Daughter

2009-11-07T07:19:00.004-05:00

It is for me to remember the joy
in the news of having a girl. It is
for me to remember the sleepless
nights and constant worry.

I can still feel your newborn fingers
grasp my one, and the smell of fresh
milk on your breath or the feel of rocking
you in my arms to sleep….

It is for you to keep in your heart the
endless, lazy summer days of jump rope,
chocolate chip cookies with milk, and the
opened door of a house filled with love.

But remember if you can, the silver hair
of an angel, wrapped in the crocheted
blanket of autumn colors; for although I
am in the winter of my life, I look forward
to reincarnating in the spring time of heaven.

Where I can once again know the joys
of birth; yours and mine. I can once again
know the love of a parent, a husband and
again a child; and the river of life will have
made its way to the horizon.

TO MY DAUGHTER

Safe Haven

2009-10-29T21:43:00.002-04:00

You are...

a beach house in the pouring rain;
my life coming down in buckets...

an assuasive presence on a blustery night
whose golden autumn eyes makes this heart smile!

You are...

brilliant fall colors on a New Hampshire afternoon;
an inglenook blaze rolling through the hills, poaching twilight.

a safe haven snuggled under Eider down
whose nurturing affection fosters impassioned emotions.

Safe Haven

NO WORDS

2009-10-21T22:36:00.001-04:00

Frustration is the manipulator
Of my fingertips.
Lead is pushed across the page
In an effort to express my
Inner most thoughts.

Lines squiggle
As my voice shakes
Starting and stopping
In discursive ramblings of feelings

Meant to turn one’s heart
Arouse one’s senses
And liberate one’s soul.

Analogies of flowing rivers
Seductive sunsets and
Sensuously soft roses
That bring to mind the
Smooth supple anatomy
Of this woman’s strongest aphrodisiac

Seem trite in comparison
To the fervent emotions
Stuck in my throat.

NO WORDS

Du’a Khalil Aswad

2009-10-09T19:59:00.004-04:00

RESTLESS

2009-10-07T22:20:00.000-04:00

My emotions disable me
Discursive dreams
Slip in and out of my daily routine
Relentless desire
Takes the place of peaceful slumber
Food, no longer satisfies the cravings
Hunger that starts
With the sound of your voice
Is followed by a thirst
Quenched only from your lips
A burning sensation
Cooled twice
By the milk of satisfaction
This appetite reaches so deep
It can only be filled
With a limberness of soul
And a passion
That makes one’s fists clench
And body convulse within
A connection intense enough to bring tears
Filled with a remembrance of my past
Love of the present
And excitement for the future

RESTLESS

INSECURITY

2009-10-07T22:12:00.002-04:00

Oh, how I wish for one day
all of my imperfections
to go away.
I would leave behind
for you to find
the vulnerable beauty
of his heart and mind.
No longer will I need to conceal
all of the emotions that I feel.
My wild spirit your subconscious would
reveal, embrace and be understood.
Conditions no longer would there be
for the bond desired
between you and me.
Unguarded acceptance
would I then know
from the trust and faith
that began to grow.

INSECURITY

AUTUMN

2009-10-05T16:35:00.001-04:00

My flowering pear is peach in color…
Summer fruit with an autumn look

No longer blending to the rest
of natures’ landscape

Its richness and vibrancy
flows gracefully with
the direction of the wind

Gaining a relaxed rhythm
once lacking in the spring

It has depth, shadows, and remnants of life
nestled into the crook of embracing branches

A smell and feel, which generates
childhood memories, emanates in the
brisk breezes scattered about
from rustling leaves

Like cinnamon being shaken on apple crisp...

AUTUMN

NOT FORGOTTEN BIRTHDAY

2009-10-05T16:28:00.002-04:00

Flames filled with hopes and dreams flicker
Materials cannot clothe the heart

A single wish entrusted to tradition
releases a prayer of happiness with a breath
dousing the candles, as I remember your birthday...

Not Forgotten Birthday

AUTUMN WIND

2009-10-03T21:22:00.000-04:00

Scents of almond, apple and pumpkin
emanate throughout the house.

Thanksgiving day is upon us and too
a casement of opportunity to
reflect on our lives, loves, and friends.

On paper, fall is an ending;
out with the old year, in with the new.

For me, it is a beginning...

New friends, new direction, new light is shed
on work to be done during this rite of drum.

There will be no stairwell to hide beneath,
my end result will mirror individual effort.

AUTUMN WIND

REMEMBER ME

2009-10-02T21:31:00.001-04:00

What will you remember
When you think of me
Will it be the eyes of excitement
That you see

The eyes of unconditional acceptance from a friend
Standing by your side
Or the eyes of passions running wild
From a love that could not hide

The eyes amazed at the colors of a sunset
Refracting through a cloud
Or how I looked admiring your accomplishments
That left me feeling proud

Will you hear the breeze rustling the dunes
Or sound of the crashing surf
Will you remember the words from a love that swooned
Comparing you to heaven on earth

Some things I hope that come to mind
When pondering my name
A heart by virtue of sincerity was kind
And wild spirit you could not tame

Remember me when times are rough
I’ll be there to pull you through
Remember me when times are grand
You’ll be in my heart then too.

REMEMBER ME

DANCE WITH ME

2009-10-02T20:57:00.001-04:00

Dance with me
Lay my head on your shoulder
Hold me close
I will close my eyes
Lose myself in the rhythm

Feel your increased desire
Move to the beat
Caress and explore every
Concealed thought and emotion
Reach deep into my soul.

Whisper to me
That which will melt my heart
Give meaning to this song

Dance with me
Be a “listener of the fugue”
Not just a “hearer of the melody.”

DANCE WITH ME

FROM NOW ON

2009-10-02T20:53:00.001-04:00

You came into my life
As quiet as a whisper
You unlocked my heart
Without a sound

You made love to my soul
Like a hurricane blowing
You gave me no warning
And here’s what I’ve found

From now on…
There isn’t anything I’ll do
I won’t want you with me

From now on…
There isn’t anything I’ll see
I won’t want to see through your eyes

From now on…
There won’t be a time
I’m not thinking of you
You’ve got a hold on me
Don’t ever let go….

FROM NOW ON

JOURNEY

2009-09-30T19:18:00.001-04:00

I’m going on a journey
My friend must stay behind
So I’ll take with me
A part of he
Reassuring my heart and mind

That love has no boundaries
It’s something you can not possess
It’s timeless and everlasting
The part of life that’s best

I’ll take with me his smile
To share along the way
And his love for adventure
To enjoy each passing day

I’ll take with me his patience
So as not to miss a thing
And his heart felt compassion
For every human being

I’ll remember how it feels
To hold his hand in mine
Then lend one to another
Knowing that in time

One day my hand will reach out
And be joined in the end
Not with that of a strangers
But my long desired friend

JOURNEY

WORDS Haiku

2009-09-30T19:00:00.000-04:00

Words do intrigue us
and then maybe engage us
sometimes OUTRAGEOUS!

POND Haiku

2009-09-28T21:31:00.000-04:00

Light autumn rain falls
percolating on a pond
bubbling through the fog...

tiny beads
of mercury dance
on water....

Cool soft droplets land
most gently
on flower petals...

leaves reaching out from their stems;
tongues hanging off lips
of children splashing puddles...

POND

SURRENDER

2009-09-24T22:03:00.001-04:00

Your fingers, like a light breeze,
slip through my hair, combing it from my face.

Weightless resignation catches this cool,
gentle wind; eyes fluttering in the moment.

And I succumb to the sweet abstraction
in your breath, swallowing every word.

INTIMACY

2009-09-23T22:50:00.000-04:00

Submerge into the river of my intimacy
absorb my essence, be fluid with me.

Feel my soul entwine with your heart...

Fingers clutching the transference of energy
giving birth to one spirit.

Feel the words my lips speak...

Let them engage you in the ebb and flow
of my conversation.

Wrap yourself in the contentment of my arms
be fluid with me.

INTIMACY

REVELATIONS

2009-09-23T22:27:00.001-04:00

Meet me at sunrise
when the day starts a new
when floral sheets of silence
awaken from their beds.

Revelations emerge from within a shining light
across the discursive ramblings of the sea
only to lap against wooden hulls.

A cryptic message to the masses?
No, to just one
but a universal plight I hope;

For I would write a poem to mankind
in the hope that it would
make its way to your heart.

REVELATIONS

TAPESTRY

2009-09-23T22:21:00.001-04:00

I examined the embroidery
of a most exquisite tapestry
lent to me by a friend
to wrap my heart and soul

Observing the progress
of this handicraft
I traveled through time

Journeying from inexperience and ire
to creativity and exploration
the mistakes made along the way
gave this work character

The most recent stitch in time
shows maturity, patience and
conformity to a pleasing, familiar pattern

How I hope to thread in this creation
the colors of my life
lending to its completion
a permanent reminder of
the gratitude for its warmth and comfort

While inspiring a rejuvenation
of the adventure once woven
into this fabric

TAPESTRY

GIRLFRIEND

2009-09-23T22:15:00.001-04:00

Friend
Partner
Rival
Co Conspirator
Sexual Confidante
The One Constant Thing

GIRLFRIEND

TEAR

2009-09-21T21:40:00.001-04:00

The day I called your name
A tear caressed my cheek

It was a tear filled with joy
A tear brimming with hopes and love

For in that tear
Was the taste of salt from your lips
And the blue seas of your eyes
Whisking me away to a place I had never been

And in that tear
Was a reflection of myself
A part of me I thought I’d never give
To someone whom I could lose

Then your hand
With its most gentle touch
Brushed away my tear
Hoping to spare me pain

Not realizing
That tear, was all I had
To make me feel alive.

TEAR

Getting On...

2009-09-21T19:28:00.001-04:00

I am getting on with my days.

I push a cart
through the grocery store
put gas in the car
not much more.

Insignificant tasks now
challenge my patience.

But…

I am getting on with my days.

Not a good one?
That’s okay
there will be another.

Oh God another!

And the mailbox seems
so far from the door
my mind is weighted with,
What for?

The what if's
What now
When?

But…

I am getting on with my days.

Getting On...

TEA TIME

2009-09-20T22:29:00.002-04:00

Grey clouds froth
Atop a lavender sky

Mother Nature’s tea steeps...

Flavored with a setting sun
Squeezed by the hand of twilight

Weariness rests with a cup
Cradled in her hands

Soothing her troubles
Are the calming colors of chamomile

Seeping into her soul
Is the aroma of life.

“Tea Time”

WINTER'S SUNSET

2009-09-20T21:52:00.001-04:00

Naked branches whisk cinder filled clouds
off the floor of the sky,
revealing glowing embers from Earth’s hearth.

Ice covered limbs crack then snap,
dripping as they melt,
while life’s breath smokes the air.

Frost burns the senses and tears the eyes,
but smells of hickory and pine
warm all memories of winters past.

Winter’s Sunset

THE WRITER

2009-09-20T20:19:00.000-04:00

Some, pass through our life like a flash of light;
barely an encounter within our aura.

Others, are embroidered into the fabric
that warms us on our journey.

Then there is you, an indelible mark upon my being.
An unexpected consequence of stepping out of my environment.

Your fugacious presence has been a gift.
This is a moment I will experience through paper and pen;

A page in my book that will be re-read,
many times, for years to come.

THE WRITER

HAIKUS

2009-09-20T12:26:00.004-04:00

My winter’s heart aches
for springtime resurgence of
summer, fall romance...

Lashes Close
Splintering Sunlight
Dreams Begin...

Tips of your fingers
write a fugue upon my skin
while our bodies dance...

WRITING

Is verbal foreplay
descriptions
of intense feelings...

The body shudders
as words spill
out on to the page...

(an orgasm for the brain :)

Late September

2009-09-19T14:36:00.003-04:00

Late September sun smiles upon me in my Adirondack
as soft autumn winds cool thoughts
of a languishing summer.

Clinging to the breeze, the cicada's Stradivarius
accompanies a cricket's lullaby while lawn mowers
dine on their last meal of sweet grass.

And I am erring to a place where you and I
dreamed together on a back yard hammock.

Vagabonds in time, gliding in sync...for a moment.

Late September...

One Hundred Poems

2009-09-16T22:32:00.002-04:00

Your words are a portal to man's soul;
noesis refracting through one hundred prisms,
each filled with lucid dreams of human emotion.

Like white light passing through the soul
of a child, colors and textures of your private
world blend, bending one hundred different
ways, spilling into an Alaskan night sky.

Poetic beauty...

And I pause to reflect on their illumination.
These words....one hundred wishes cast off
onto shooting stars; the hopes and dreams of
the young at heart dangling from a moon beam.

One hundred good night kisses and a prayer
gently blown off the tips of a mother's love
as she closes the door on another bed time story.

Your words...one hundred poems revealing
intricate details and intimate secrets of a world
you share with only a few...Leaving me envious
of those who hold your heart....

One Hundred Poems...

Dedicated to Samuel Paralta
Congratulations on 100~

And I Miss You

2009-09-14T21:54:00.001-04:00

I caught the scent of you today
Clinging to the autumn breeze

It blew, like your fingers, through my hair
Sweeping wisps from my face

Landing in my hands
Nestled in the crook of a gently fallen leaf

Encasing me like a warm hug
As I rolled in a freshly raked pile
On a bed of grass

And I miss you….

Thoughts of you are surreal
Images fade in and out in slow motion
Glances from across a crowded room
A look in the eyes
A smile on the face
Feelings of a touch
The sound of laughter
Moments in time that I try to grab hold of
Prolonging their memory

And I miss you…

And my arms ache to hold you
As the tears well up inside
And my voice constricts in pain
Fighting back the sounds
Of a heart broken

The colors of the sun
Explode now across the sky
As my soul rains into that river
Reincarnated
Racing toward the horizon
Hoping to join the light before it fades

And I miss you….

How Do I Reach You

2009-09-13T09:56:00.001-04:00

There you were, among the tall, lush grasses
petting cattails as they pass beneath your fingertips.

Reflective in the sun's light your thoughts
meandered in the distance, poaching a melancholy horizon.

And I smiled as the jasmine breeze whispered your name
betraying your secrets into the day's calm.

Verses kindred in spirit danced on dragonfly wings
hovering over memories filled with goldenrod .

Fragrant longing drew a slumbering breath, ingesting your essence
and I yearned to respond, awakening my fervent soul.

But how does this banausic voice reach out to another so exquisite,

Can such trite emotions prehend the attention of one
whose song is lovelier than the Thorn-bird's?

How Do I Reach You

PRIVATION

2009-09-12T00:22:00.001-04:00

A chance encounter
an abstraction in the eventide
inveigling my emotions with possibilities

An extrinsic rebirth; pealing away the layers...
yours of vulnerability, mine of longing to experience
what curls the toes and generates concupiscent dreams.

Cat's Whimsy

2009-09-11T21:56:00.001-04:00

The cat's paws pad across
lap top keys in search of
a semicolon smile.

A fluttering beneath the
surface drew his whimsy;
heart strings wriggling.

One More Thing...

2009-09-10T16:01:00.007-04:00

Tell me one more thing before I sleep
one more story to remit my mind into lucid dreams.

Bridge our expanse so I may reach out and trace the contour of
your brow; that which embraces an accomplished intellect.

Give me one more morsel before I slumber
one more bite from that apple or peach.

Provide a conduit for succulent imaginings; those which
are experienced through the vulnerability in your words.

Reveal to me one more clandestine idiosyncrasy
those which create an image in my mind, giving you life.

Be my one more reason to rise in the morning
one more reason to look forward to the day….

SERENITY

2009-09-09T16:11:00.001-04:00

I sought but could not find
That which would set my soul free
One look at you, then I knew
How I would find me

The serenity my heart has discovered
From just looking into your eyes
The release of my inhibitions
I have come to realize

Is the freedom my spirit searches for
The ability to draw strength from within
You inspired this gift of self-expression
And with you I want to begin

Exploring life’s little miracles
The feelings of joy with each passing day
The sensation knowing you creates inside me
Making love to you will be my way

Share in my creativity
Inspire me some more
Rejuvenate the passion
Then love me like never before.

SERENITY

REFLECTION

2009-09-09T16:06:00.001-04:00

I saw my reflection in your eyes
Youth, exuberance and creativity
Now the heavy lids of boredom slip closed
And I must look within
To find my strength and assurances

But the dark is a scary place

The sound of your voice once told me
The words of your heart
But all has quieted
And the silence if deafening

You flowed through my veins
Like the river to the sea
With wild abandon and purpose
Now you bleed through opened wounds
As sharp tongues lash the heart

And the pain adds to the darkness

But I will find my way
Padding though the inner walls of my soul
Cauterizing the wounds, healing the scars
And I will emerge again to hear
The laughter in your voice

For I will be stronger
And once again full of surprise and allure
No longer afraid of the dark

REFLECTION

Dreams

2009-09-07T13:11:00.000-04:00

I want to stretch out across the sheets
in the morning, after you rise

Run my fingers through my mind
unshackling all thoughts

Chase the voyeur that lurks
unmediated through my noesis

And breathe freely
on this bed of dreams...

Reverie's Wake

2009-09-04T21:58:00.000-04:00

My dreams rest in the crook of your arm...
swallowing every heart beat.

A warm, fragrant chest
absorbs all consciousness...

Fingertips meander atop soft, tegument
as creativity's flow strengthens in reverie's wake

Living Dead

2009-09-03T21:40:00.000-04:00

I changed your room,
put up new walls, and took down
old feelings and memories.

Wiped the fingerprints that
told me you once ran through
my house, and covered the
growth marks of our bond.

But the death of this love
consumes me, as nothing
can replace your smile or
unconditional acceptance.

Or was it? For you are gone,
no word, no trace, just silence.
Afraid to move, I wait for a sign
of closure. It’s the not knowing.

LIVING DEAD

Uninterrupted

2009-09-03T21:08:00.001-04:00

Ask me what I want
It would be
One moment in time
You and me
Uninterrupted.
All walls are down
None of life’s complications to get in the way
Time to tell about my dreams
Time to ask about your day
Uninterrupted.
We communicate through children
Share stories of work and schools
Relax with friends
Follow the rules
All the while
Waiting for a moment
Uninterrupted.

UNINTERRUPTED

Compassion

2009-09-03T21:07:00.001-04:00

Lay your burdens on my shoulder
Nestle into the crook of my arm
Your barely lithe soul and grieve

Then rest
While my heart sustains
The weight of your suffering

For time will ease your anguish
Letting the joys of living
Once again be known

COMPASSION

Dream Catcher

2009-09-03T21:04:00.000-04:00

Dream catcher
Catch me colors.

Catch me the colors
Of a rainbow
So I know the storm is over.

Catch me the colors
Of a sailors delight
So I’m assured a glorious day.

Catch me the colors of eyes
So I can look into the soul of man
And understand his heart.

Catch me the colors of roses
So I may know
Purity, friendship, and love.

Catch me the color of light
That which shines like a beacon
Out in the sea
To guide me through
Insecurity and indecision.

Then catch me the color of death
So I can control him
And make him a kinder, gentler adversary.

DREAM CATCHER

Flickers of Firelight

2009-09-03T20:57:00.001-04:00

Splintered logs singe like hair
strands, curling up in a pile of ash,
and hissing smoke slithers into the air.

Blue and white flames flap with
fluttering sounds in a stiff breeze
as embers crack then snap.

The pit radiates light into the dark
abyss of autumn nights, scenting
the quiet with hickory.

Through branches, like fingers that
claw at the sky, peering through
a charcoaled haze, I see you
shrouded in the shadow of past admirer’s.

An emptiness fills my spirit, echoing
the soft footfalls of isolation, as I await
your full return.

FLICKERS OF FIRE LIGHT

In Response to YES

2009-09-02T21:25:00.000-04:00

And my lips will respond
quivering against the soft fullness

drinking in this moment
breath suspended

while the tips of your fingers
write a fugue on my skin

Anticipation

2009-09-02T16:58:00.001-04:00

Anticipation of a final connection
No touch will ever be the same
No longer will I use “Mr.”
I can call you by your name.

How I long to whisper in your ear
That which has been tucked in my heart
It is what we hold most precious and dear
And has defined us from the start

It is your most important possession
You will be sharing with me
And I welcome the release of repression
So you can finally see

That who you are is what I love most
Giving of your self, is to me no game
No longer will I use “Mr.”
I will call you by your name.

ANTICIPATION

Grief

2009-08-28T21:47:00.000-04:00

I wear my grief like a security blanket
Without the feel of it to burn my heart
Slip away the last memories of you
And a cold numbness consumes me

So I pull it up around my chin
Waiting for the warmth of time to
Relieve my chill and hope for the day
I can recall you without a tear

GRIEF

Missing You

2009-08-28T21:31:00.001-04:00

Missing You

A single flame flickers through glass
Splintering into beams of light
While raking through the lashes
On my sleepy lids

A last breath douses the prism
Whispering your name as it leaves my lips
Before I drift into lucid dreams.

My Angel

2009-08-27T12:01:00.000-04:00

I met an angel. No, there was
no halo, nimbus or radiant light,
no corona or presence with an aura.

I do not know if it was male or female;
it came just as a distraction, a diversion
of sorts, from an unholy alliance.

A pact I would gladly make,
not for the sake of fortune
or fame but for love.

Yes, I would sell my soul to feel again,
that which sets my heart on fire; I
would burn, to know the heat of passion.

I would have fought Michael himself,
to know what it takes to make one’s
fists clench and body convulse within.

Then, there he was; I say he, because I
believe him to be; a calming, soothing voice
from a distance, preoccupying my thoughts.

And in my head I hope he will stay,
that voice in my ear, gripping my attention,
until I’m strong enough to stand on my own.

MY ANGEL

TOUCH

2009-08-26T20:28:00.001-04:00

Uncovered emotions
Exposed soul, bare skin
How deep can a touch go
From outside to within

A gentle hand upon my face
Eyes that can see into my heart
Physical surrender of an intimate place
But the mind is where we start

A mental connection
A joining of spirits
That’s what is required to see
Freedom to release
Without self-conscious thought
The essence that is me

A TOUCH

I Would

2009-08-26T20:18:00.001-04:00

I would bake a thousand cookies
Just to give you one.

I would cook dinner
For an entire circle of friends
If only to see you at my table.

I would write a poem for mankind
In the hope that
It would find its way to your heart.

I WOULD

YOU

2009-08-17T19:58:00.001-04:00

You
Are my first thought in the morning
I make my list of
“Things to tell him.”

Anticipation of a quiet moment
Transforms into a competition for conversation
Children bustle about
Meetings are held
Activities are attended

We converse via cell phone and e-mail
Nautilus becomes our rendezvous
In the evening, after I tuck the kids in bed
I lay down my weary head and

You
Are my last thought at night
I make my list of
“Things I forgot to tell him.”

YOU

BREATH

2009-08-12T00:31:00.001-04:00

Breath

The ebb and flow of existence
plays tug of war with daylight's reality
then releases in lunar dreams

It's the space between us
when we hold
and fogs the looking glass
with questions

It's what I crave
yet smothers me in fear
and frosts my heart with winters' kiss

It weighs heavy with restlessness
flutters with desire
and seeks to relax in the crook of someone's arms

SPRING NIGHT

2009-08-11T13:28:00.001-04:00

Spring Night

It wrapped us in spontaneity
bringing a fantasy to life
warming our bodies on a breezy beach

It shared our laughter and inner most thoughts
and felt the caress of your skin against mine
toes buried in the sand

It shrouded passion from the eyes of the moon
and muffled cries of ecstasy
blending them with the pounding surf.

It moved with rhythm
as we explored each others' bodies
to and fro, as forcefully as the oceans' currents

Now it lays quiet
waiting...for another breeze
another moment...to share

ALONG THE WAY

2009-08-10T18:17:00.000-04:00

Along the way
A mentor you became
The day you stopped
And learned my name

You encouraged my creativity
And then
When my efforts slacked off
Made me try again

Along the way
You took the time
To inspire me
And improve my mind

More than a teacher
Of Reading and Math
More than a gatekeeper
On your administrative path

Along the way
Communities were built
On personal commitment
Filled with the passion you felt

You are part of our family
More than a friend
When you move on
Your legacy won’t end

For along the way
True character was found
In the young lives that were touched
While you were around

ALONG THE WAY

TAO

2009-08-10T17:56:00.002-04:00

Take my hand and walk with me
Show me your end

What moves you
What inspires you
What hurts you
I want to be a better friend

I can listen
I can follow
I can try something new

Relationships are ever changing and
I couldn’t love you more than I do

That is unconditional
Not matter where we go

But patience, trust and assurance
I’m learning rather slow

Take my hand and walk with me
Show me your way

Teach me the TAO of living
Day by day

Be my mentor, my guide
My passions ride
Share in how I feel

Take my hand and be my friend
Show me what is real

TAO

ALL GROWN UP

2009-08-06T21:26:00.000-04:00

With your first words
I helped you talk
Held your hand
While you tried to walk

I locked up the cabinets
Closed all the doors
Gated the stairs
And carpeted the floors

When you first went to school
I followed the bus
Always waiting in the wings
Was someone you could trust

I steered you to activities
And friends you knew
Trying to instill
Morals and values in you

Now you’re all grown up
Trying life on your own
Just remember I’m here
You’ll always have a home

I’m proud of you
You turned out great
Now all I can do
Is sit back and wait

Until the time should come
When you need me again
Maybe as a parent
Or just as a friend

ALL GROWN UP

MY COURTNEY

2009-08-06T21:24:00.001-04:00

She has a child’s heart
Needing of attention, affection and reassurance
But full of giving without pretense or expectation
She views the world through laughing eyes
But they are sensitive to what they see
And tears flow easily
She likes to be cradled in the security of her family
But “family” is not defined
And knows no limits
She is accepting of all
But rejecting of many
For there is no time for cruel children on her playground
Her emotions run deep
But they have no place to hide
And acceptance must be at face value
When she loves
It is with her soul
And you are grateful to be on the receiving end

MY COURTNEY

MY LOVE AT SUNSET

2009-08-04T14:42:00.001-04:00

I met a man; he is you in twenty
years. His hair is white, skin wrinkled,
mustache curled, but his eyes glisten
with excitement and allure.

His voice touches my heart with attentive
encouragement. His middle is relaxed now,
but it leaves a secure pillow for my head, and
his arms are the warmest blanket around.

And I love you, for all of your disbelief of
the future and growing old, I’ve seen you then
and love you still; so much so, I wish for the future
to hurry up and come.

MY LOVE AT SUNSET

KELSEY

2009-08-01T09:23:00.002-04:00

KELSEY”

Scandinavian, meaning “Island of Ships”

Meet me at sunrise
When the day starts a new

When floral sheets of silence
Awaken from their beds

We’ll sail away to freedom
To the Island of Ships

Wrecked dreams salvaged
Restored to their original luster

Where the palominos run
Through fields of goldenrod

Whipping the winds of God’s love
Around this wild spirit

You’ll listen as the sweet
Harmonic tune of my viola

Caresses the shoulder of your grief
Relieving your worries

For you will know this vessel
Was resurrected to the Lord’s
“Island of Ships”

(In loving memory of Kelsey Mizerak)

CONFORMITY

2009-08-01T09:16:00.001-04:00

If I opened the door, would I
see them there; draped, one after
the other, over thin wire?

Would there be crisp pleats, pressed
in the soft brushed cotton, that fall
like a plumb line from hip to floor?

Would they all be the color of sand, to blend
you into the background of life’s canvas;
only to be contrasted by the backside of a cow?

Do they gently caress your legs
and hug your waist; like your lovers hands
do you own the feel and comfort of them?

Do you ever pour into the color red, in
your dreams? And would you be cheating,
to don the color blue, or burgundy

CONFORMITY

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2009-07-31T11:16:00.001-04:00

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YEARNING

2009-07-30T19:34:00.000-04:00

The moment our eyes meet
Yearning begins
In slow motion
I watch you from across a crowded room
Meeting, greeting
Working your way towards me
Occasional glances
But the eyes can’t see
What the heart feels
Innocently
Or not
Our bodies brush
In the room filled with people
But the eyes can’t see
What the heart feels
Conversations, pleasantries
Smiling from ear to ear
Then our fingers touch
And the eyes can’t see
What the heart feels
But my body is exhilarated!

YEARNING

WORKING TOWARD TOMORROW

2009-07-30T19:24:00.005-04:00

Working Toward Tomorrow

They called to say
the funeral would be on a Monday

But I mourned that loss long ago

I was told of the figureheads
that would be in attendance

I heard the names
of the spectators and scavengers

An Ivan Ilych’s who’s who at best

But I cried those tears when I was expendable

After burying the demons and ghosts
left in the dust of another's life pursuit

Still…
Who will be there for them

So they can say
“I am sorry for your grief.”

So they won’t need to pull at the guilt beneath their collars
when they realize the true love for this soul
had been used up, leaving behind a wooden casement

And I did love…

Knowing the sum of the whole
the shortcomings, and burned bridges
I loved regardless

But it wasn’t enough
And now it isn’t at all….

LIVING FOR THE HERE AND NOW

2009-07-30T07:19:00.001-04:00

Living for the Here and Now...

I met a man with curious eyes
He searched past the surface, past the obvious
Into the interworking of this clock’s heart
While the hours, days, years ticked slowly past

I met a man with a smile and outstretched hand
He joined me on a journey where time had no meaning
It transcends human emotion and expectation
Luring me into the here and now; this moment

And life here is good!...

NEW FRIEND

2009-07-30T07:18:00.001-04:00

New Friend....

Butterflies and quivers
Like flying for the first time
A floor drops from beneath
The rest is clear blue sky and sunshine
With heart racing, craving more, I spread my wings
And hope the feeling doesn’t end…

SUNSET

2009-07-30T07:04:00.001-04:00

SUNSET

A conversation with the soul
You can become so drunk with its beauty
You speak with no inhibitions
Of love and intimacy

It can be calm and soothing
Like a soft whisper in your ear
Luring you to an exotic place

It can be radiant
Like the shining light of understanding
As the secrets of the universe
Are exposed at that moment

Its rays can reach across the water
Like the hand of a friend Saying
“Tomorrow, I’ll still be here.”

MY DAD

2009-07-30T07:02:00.002-04:00

Here I sit
Snug in my favorite chair.
A roaring fire
Reflects in the glass
Against a moonlit, November night sky.
Music on the radio takes me back;
Add the smell of hickory burning and
Crackling, hissing, sounds of
The wood stoves of my youth.
I can almost see you
Sitting in your favorite chair
Contentment and pride are settled in the
Relaxed smile on your face.
And what I wouldn’t do for
One more conversation
One more discussion on
Theology, politics or growing up.
What I wouldn’t give for
One more piece of advice
From a man who somehow
Got smarter, as I got older.
How I need to hear, one more time
Smile and the world smiles at you
While perched on your lap
Receiving my daily dose of hugs and encouragement.
But then again
Thanks to these wonderful memories
I’ll have many more
“One more, moonlit November nights.”

MY DAD

LOVE IS LIKE A DAISY

2009-07-29T11:15:00.001-04:00

Love Is Like A Daisy

He loves me
He loves me not
How easy for a daisy to say
But then you always did
Smell of flowers in the spring

My chest grows heavy
From the weight of my heart
Once free and easy
Fresh breaths of air
Now stifle my comprehension
As I choke on your words in disbelief

But the crumbling of my heart
Will relieve the pressure
Allowing me to once again
Breathe deeply
And stop to smell the roses

EMOTIONS

2009-07-29T11:11:00.001-04:00

Like waves
My emotions rush to the shore
Tumbling, churning
White caps peaking the closer you get.
Then, with every breath I take
I feel you wash over me
And rest on the sand.
Only to drag out to sea
Pieces of me
As you walk away.

EMOTIONS

BROKEN

2009-07-28T13:12:00.000-04:00

Broken thoughts of you
float like particles
In my consciousness

Candid snapshots
of a love once consuming
Materialize like a slide show
Throughout my waking hours

Words that used to intrigue and engage
Now run discursive in a muddled heart

I don't know what to say to move you...
I used to..

DREAM

2009-07-28T10:53:00.001-04:00

She crept into your subconscious
Like the smile on a baby in the midst of a dream
She tests your patience
Like a kitten
Batting your face in the early morning hours
Yet her eyes sparkle
With the laughter of a child bearing a secret
Food for every man’s soul
But to whom will it belong in the end?
Shh. Don’t tell
Keep it but a dream
For the dream that becomes reality, is no longer a fantasy

DREAM

THE INTERNIST

2009-07-27T13:10:00.002-04:00

THE INTERSIST

He was quiet and reserved, his features consistent with his personality; soft, dark, baby fine hair that fell into short ringlets cut just above his ears. Deep brown eyes hidden beneath long, lush lashes, the kind that won't let any one see into his soul, and pouty lips that accentuate a smile or frown. He stood at medium height, not over weight but had a soft middle. There was no muscle tone flexing from gym workouts or racquetball, and he walked with an ever-so-slight hunch; not proud and erect but cautious and guarded. I would always see him in corduroys and clogs, if not in scrubs, and he often fell asleep in the lounge poring over someone's case history. This was the man I came to know; not at all like the others that came before, usually older men with graying hair, racing about from one meeting to the next, or one golf course to the next, having no time to sit and make small talk. But he always had time; time to become involved with families, siblings, parents, children, me....

I watched him over the weeks I was there, tirelessly making his rounds, stopping to check on patients, not just their physical conditions but their mental health as well. Did the families have everything they needed? Did they have access to all the institutions that could benefit them in this, their hardest time? Was the wife or mother getting enough sleep? His patients were his life, bringing him pictures of their dogs and cats, school friends and relatives; he was an extension of their families. He celebrated birthdays and holidays, their recuperations and even small steps in progress to a better , healthier life. He grieved with them too, in their times of loss or setbacks; this would be his undoing.

Patient after patient would eventually be committed to an internal place in the soul of this young, gifted doctor of internal medicine. Death had become as much a part of his life, if not more than his living. How could a person not want to wrap him in their arms, rest his wearied head in the crook of their shoulder and eradicate his illness, his cancer? So to the industry, he too will die, a victim of that which he fought so hard to eliminate; death. Death comes to us all they say, but for him and his community it will be a different sort, for he will live to see another sunrise and ski down another snow covered alp, just not as a gifted healer; to him this was an oxymoron anyway....

Writers Are Rodents

2009-07-26T22:59:00.000-04:00

WRITERS ARE RODENTS

My mind spins nocturnally
Like a hamster on his Habitrail wheel
Juiced up on a caffeine IV

Chewing at thoughts
Like that rodent with its paws
Around a kernel of corn

Teeny tiny pieces gnawed on
In rapid, repetitive bites
Until a line or phrase
Regurgitates without a bile sound

While the world
Unsuspecting
Sleeps

STILL HERE

2009-07-26T22:50:00.000-04:00

When the autumn winds shake the
core of your foundation, it will not be
my hand that fells you to the ground.

I will not leave you as underbrush,
to become brittle, and burn with
summers first crack of lightning.

Instead, I will scoop in my arms,
that part of you, which can
warm me on cold winter nights.

Looking forward to spring, and the
greener, richer version of that which,
like the great redwood, only grows
more precious and rare with age.

Still Here

HUGS BUNNY

2009-07-26T11:16:00.000-04:00

Your eyes are black and vacant
Yet they completely understand

Your fur is matted and worn
But nothing could provide more warmth

You arrived in my infancy
And here you are still
Providing a listening ear

You have been a guardian angel at night
Keeper of my most personal secrets by day
And an unconditional source of love

You are my “HUGS BUNNY”

HUGS BUNNY

My Chair

2009-07-26T11:11:00.002-04:00

Cup of coffee
My favorite cotton sweats
And a good book
I sink down into the soft, overstuffed cushion
And pull on my blanket
Brisk, autumn air smells of
Fires burning on the hearth
Late afternoon sun beats warmly
Through the glass
Burgundy and gold colored leaves add a calm, Soothing touch
Then you climb into my lap and snuggle me
“Ready for my book, mommy!”
The best thing about my chair
Is it is big enough for two

MY CHAIR

STILL OF THE NIGHT

2009-07-24T01:01:00.000-04:00

What do you think of
In the still of the night
When your mud settles
And you’re feeling just right

When your mind is clear
Your heart rate slows
And your body tells you
All that it knows

Can you hear the whisper
The call of the wild
Do you feel the presence
Of destiny’s child

Has she taken liberties
In your subconscious mind
Does she flow through your veins
Are you two of a kind

When it’s calm and quiet
Can you see her face
Does she take you back
To a time and place

When your soul was liquid
Free flowing and pure
Like the fountain of youth
She would assure
You were never more alive
More connected or loved
Part of the universe and heavens above

This is no illusion
No dream that must end
For destiny’s child is
Not only your friend

You’re what beats in her heart
The spirit in her soul
A love like no other
And what makes her whole

STILL OF THE NIGHT

AS NATURE WOULD HAVE IT

2009-07-23T11:50:00.000-04:00

As Nature Would Have It...

When winter winds
Blow through naked limbs
Clinging to their trunks
Howling and moaning

When the sun submerges
Into a cold dark sea
Not allowing the sky to blush

When thick fog
Breaths heavy on the ground
Indifferent to the beads of rain
Slipping from the lashes of
The meadow’s wild flowers

Mother Nature did not prepare
Her daughters well

For the forces known as man

Why I Write

2009-07-22T16:28:00.004-04:00

It's been a few years, my daughter is starting college in the fall and my son is a high school Jr.; but the sentiment has not changed....

I never thought about “mid life;” age has not been a tangible concept for me. I work out, am in fairly good shape, healthy, and at close to forty feel pretty good over all. I am married to a wonderful man and great father. I have two active, intelligent, school age children, and am fortunate to be with them full time insuring, to my satisfaction, their childhood security and happiness.

One day, however, as my best friend Nancy describes it, my euphoria seemed to hit a brick wall. My youngest was in elementary school full time, and the need for mom’s around the clock attention was waning. My good friend and neighbor moved away, and other mothers were back to work, so I did the sensible thing and took some college courses to prepare myself for the day I too might return to the civilized world of adult interactions, and let us not forget the almighty paycheck.

Petrified of re-entering the school arena, I was pleased with how many brain cells had not been caricatured to format Nick Jr. or Maryland Public Television. Writing, which had been my worst nightmare earlier in life, became my way of telling the outside world a viable adult still resided in an entity that knew more about Main Street USA in Disney World than Pennsylvania Avenue in Washington DC.

Words flooded pages expressing concealed emotions about friendship, love, and rediscovery of myself. This was the scary part, for beneath the inner workings of my “perfect life,” lay dormant the youthful, energetic, dreamer whose spontaneity had been put on hold while adhering to the rules of parenting; scheduling is everything.

Emerging slowly, with the help of a mentor, was that of a woman who would become more than the sum of her children and dreams of their futures. Once upon a time, it may have been believed that when you become a parent your life ends so as to promote that of your family’s. In today’s world, life at thirty-eight is a second chance to become, what I didn’t know I even had in me.

Of Ways Of Looking At A Woman represents a journey for me, one of insight to the deepest crevices of my soul. While writing, I am allowed to revisit the beauty in my life, but too must face many demons. I relive passion, intimacy, love and desire combined with failures, rejection, and loss. My ability to recreate the pain is the most rewarding, for it is the most healing. Putting into words that which is sometimes unspeakable, somehow deadens or numbs the nerves. The loss of a loved one, for example, may never leave you, but identifying it can bring understanding and acceptance.

My goal in sharing my poetry is to help you, the reader, connect your feelings of pain and joy with that of someone else. I have been known to search hours on end for just the right card, expressing the exact thoughts and feelings as my own. That connection, that knowing, someone else feels the same, is somehow irreplaceable.

Theresa

2009-07-22T07:48:00.001-04:00

Theresa

Greek for
“Late Summer”

Her smile is infectious
Vibrant, glowing
It injects us with a feeling of
Somehow knowing
All are welcome in her world

As if a late summer sun
We bask in her rays
Feeding our memories
On long ago days

Then, Releasing all reticence
We return in kind
Sparkling eyes and dimpled cheek
Secure in mind
All are welcome in her world

RECALL

2009-07-21T10:16:00.002-04:00

Recall

I stood in the shower. Beads of steaming hot water pelted my back like ammunition to numb the pain. It sounded as if the heavens had opened up in the midst of a downpour. The kind of rain you hear playing a tune on your roof during a thunderstorm while snuggled in your bed. And the floodgates of my mind opened as my body began its full release; every muscle went limp. Memories, fluid like water and tears, were washing away. The way your eyes connected to mine, and the feelings of you; the taste of your lips, and the presence of your body in mine, were all slipping through my fingers as the soap glided along. How I longed to be snug again in my bed; in my room filled with dream catchers to sift out my nightmares and leave behind once welcomed fantasies of lying on a beach blanket soaking up the suns radiant glow. But the water runs cold and the step into reality is cushioned by red shag. What’s left of my memories are soaked up in cotton and wrapped around me as a fading reminder….

MORNING DEW

2009-07-20T17:21:00.002-04:00

She took the rose
Gently pulling it across her face
Holding with extra care
Two, soft, wrinkled leaves

The smooth petals and aroma
Like a philter
Were the perfect aphrodisiac

As the flower began to bloom
Morning dew escaped
Dripping on her lips
As if to quench a parched tongue

MORNING DEW

MY ANGEL

2009-07-20T10:57:00.001-04:00

Of Ways Of Looking At A Woman Review

2009-07-16T23:45:00.001-04:00

Previously published in chapbook sections, Of Ways Of Looking At A Woman has received wonderful reviews from specialty magazines and on-line publications.
Kara L. C. Jones of KotaPress.com reviewed Of My Soul saying, “So many of Nancy’s words remind me of those unforgettable in-the-body experiences that are so overwhelming yet simple and almost overlooked in our day to day lives.” “Nancy is able to write about a loss that is specific to her experience, yet finds a way to address that loss so the poem will speak to anyone.” “ You just need to get your hands on a copy of this book in order to unearth the layers of meaning waiting here for you.”
Kwil of Kwil Kids Quarterly said, “My Reading Chair is a poetry chapbook filled with light, warmth and love. Children’s poetry is woven in delicate strands all snuggly warm… like a winters glove.” “If you are a lover of words and images, poetic insights both old and new… Nancy Watts is a poet and novelist whose reading chair is big enough for two!”
Russell Fulcher of Samsara Magazine says, “The language in Of My Soul ranges from simple and sincere, to passionate and haunting.” “The author is well-centered and a welcome change from most poetry dealing with this subject, adding a sense of hope and well-being in the face of grief and adversity.”

ISBN # 0-9718492-0-X

Review by Kara L. C. Jones / Kota Press

2009-06-18T19:44:00.002-04:00

Review by Kara L.C. Jones

Of My Soul
by Nancy Watts
from Rosecroft Publishing

We've published Nancy's work here at KotaPress in the recent past, and I was very excited to hear that she had published this chapbook Of My Soul. Upon further inquiry, it was also a wonderful discovery to find that this chapbook will be incorporated into a larger collection to be called Of Ways Of Looking At A Woman which will also be released from Rosecroft Publishing soon.

Of course given my own life circumstances, it's always the grief and healing poems that speak to me the most. Nancy's poem title "Grief" in this chapbook is beautiful and to the point. "I wear my grief like a security blanket/...So I pull it up around my chin/...to/Relieve my chill and hope for the day/I can recall you without a tear." To any bereaved person, you know how thick the blanket of grief can be, and you'll find metaphor like this throughout Nancy's writing.

So many of Nancy's works remind me of those unforgettable in-the-body experiences that are so overwhelming yet simple and almost overlooked in our day to day lives. In "Recall" she writes, "I stood in the shower. Beads of steaming hot water/pelted my back like ammunition to numb the pain." How many showers have we all taken like this? Maybe your pain wasn't from the death of a child. Maybe you lost a job or got divorced. But the loss is loss is loss. And this kind of in-the-body writing will speak to you no matter what your particular life experiences. She also does this kind of thing in "My Dad" and "Extinction" both.

There's another example in this collection of how Nancy is able to write about a loss that is specific to her experience, yet finds a way to address that loss so the poem will speak to anyone. It's another of those everyday ideas-- the actions of a person cleaning a house. But the loss is so marked here. It's really a stunning piece. The poem is titled "Living Dead." I'll just let the first stanza speak for itself:

I changed your room,
put up new walls,
and took downold feelings and memories.

You can imagine how this stanza spoke to me as a woman whose child died at birth, a woman who had to dismantle a nursery in a very untimely manner. And yet the loss Nancy addresses here was not the same kind of loss. You just simply need to get your hands on a copy of this book in order to unearth the layers of meaning waiting here for you!

From the book "Of Ways Of Looking At A Woman"

2009-06-16T13:47:00.000-04:00

Foreward

Of Ways Of Looking At A Woman is that and much more. Nancy Watts dubs this her first book of poetry but one would never guess that. A year ago, as a New England Writers member, she began sending me her poems for mentoring. She saved up quite a few and has that unique gift of being able to write a poem on demand, which she frequently does of herself. Studying to finish her degree and raising two children is part of the discipline that has gone into her first book of poetry. We not only see finished work, but the poems are gut feelings when a young friend dies or how she feels about her own children. Facing challenges, she steps up to the plate and does some of her mentor’s new BRIK poems. The results are more than being a housewife they are more Ways of Looking At A Woman. What the reader sees is much that is delightful.

Frank Anthony Ph. D.

She crept into your subconscious
Like the smile on a baby in the midst of a dream
She tests your patience
Like a kitten
Batting your face in the early morning hours
Yet her eyes sparkle
With the laughter of a child bearing a secret
Food for every man’s soul
But to whom will it belong in the end?
Shh. Don’t tell
Keep it but a dream
For the dream that becomes reality, is no longer a fantasy

DREAM

The day I called your name
A tear caressed my cheek
It was a tear filled with joy
A tear brimming with hopes and love
For in that tear
Was the taste of salt from your lips
And the blue seas of your eyes
Whisking me away to a place I had never been
And in that tear
Was a reflection of myself
A part of me I thought I’d never give
To someone whom I could lose
Then your hand
With its most gentle touch
Brushed away my tear
Hoping to spare me pain
Not realizing
That tear, was all I had
To make me feel alive.
TEAR

I saw my reflection in your eyes
Youth, exuberance and creativity
Now the heavy lids of boredom slip closed
And I must look within
To find my strength and assurances
But the dark is a scary place
The sound of your voice once told me
The words of your heart
But all has quieted
And the silence if deafening
You flowed through my veins
Like the river to the sea
With wild abandon and purpose
Now you bleed through opened wounds
As sharp tongues lash the heart
And the pain adds to the darkness
But I will find my way
Padding though the inner walls of my soul
Cauterizing the wounds, healing the scars
And I will emerge again to hear
The laughter in your voice
For I will be stronger
And once again full of surprise and allure
No longer afraid of the dark

REFLECTION