Posts Tagged ‘stories’

first date kissing
us much dated
back seat bed
entwined disheveled entangled

give up

give in

steaming up windows
raising temperatures
careless thoughtless buoyant
young and free once more



compassionate caressing
witnessing want
breaking boundaries
push-up bra undone

quick breath


soft eyes occasion to open
street lamp’s  illumination
night’s sun
sees lips and tongues together
breathing bodies pulse anew


give in

intentions’ expectations
lake-side parking’s
bridge and
far shore homes alight …



just for tonight


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feeling my role like a method actress
looking for the cues
to find my entrance
knuckles knock
on too many locked doors

twenty-seven small bones
sore in their sockets

No, no, no, no
No, no, no, no
like the Fifth begins with a knocking
it’s not closed in a closet
not – not – not  — there
not – not – not  — there
not in these twenty-seven
flanges – knuckles and fingers
not held

but in the twenty-six or twenty-eight
(depending on how you count…)
bones of my feet
accepting and supporting
my souls on the earth

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I am very excited that the author of A Twisted Pair has quoted me in the post – Be here now – particularly since I hadn’t remembered writing the comment he quoted and it sounded pretty good – I had one of those, gee, did I write that moments?

But as an artist who has been working almost thirty years for a very limited audience I have been delighted to find others out here in a creative and nourishing nexus.

I am reminded of a professor I had in graduate school in the early 1990s – Teachers’ College, Columbia University.  I was improbably working on (but destined not to finish, thankfully) a Phd in math education. He had returned to teaching after working as an experimental mathematician for Bell Labs and he had done a lot of work on multidimensional geometry. He talked a lot about modeling geometric solids that had more than three connections in space from their vertices – any number, n dimensional! It ended up having a big impact on how phone traffic is routed.

This was all before the internet was much – but I suppose it was a vision as to how it works now – a connection, to a connection, to a connection – almost a living network of nerve cells.

And so we blog. But not to boost our ego, but to lose it in our work, in the game, as we are reminded by A Twisted Pair’s post – out here in the vastness of the internet….

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My flight on Saturday was pretty amazing.

I drove through hail and sleet in Everett and was amazed to see the sky clearing to the north, when I could see at all, over Arlington.

My CFI A –, said it was okay to fly but we’d have to watch the weather closely. There were patches of blue overhead, but storms were moving around to the West and South. Bits of snow were swirling about.

We were back in the Evektor Sportstar LSA this time. I did the radio for the first time. “Arlington this is sports start… taking the active… Arlington.” (more…)

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The Snoqualmie was a zoo this weekend. Everyone was there. I took Elaine up Saturday and she decided to carry her beach chair on her back but changed her mind about the flower press (thank god) and left it in the truck. She did manage to catch a nice trout – second time fly fishing – and then sat in the chair and read. I told her some people pay $400 for a guide to show them how to catch a fish like that. Plus tip. She bought me a hamburger and a beer later that night at the North Bend Bar and Grill and I was very appreciative. It was a particularly tasty hamburger.

Anyway as we were going up river yesterday, this couple was coming down, they were obviously local white trash – cigarettes, tattoos and a spinning rod – even though the river is catch and release and fly-fishing only… Elaine is always friendly to who ever she sees so we stop and say hello.


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Sitting in the left seat for the first time was both very exciting and very comforting. Yesterday the weather at AWO was outstandingly beautiful and my instructor, although much younger than me, was relaxed and confident.

We walked around the airplane and he quizzed me about what I already knew – he complimented me for the knowledge I had while filling in what I lacked. The routine was familiar and encouraging.

“How much flying will I be doing?”

“Pretty much as much as you feel comfortable with -if you’re in trouble I’ll take the controls.”


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Saturday morning
outside of class
on my own
without the teacher
no one to judge
in the company of my two cats
it’s easier to  stand on
one foot

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Even a bad day fishing is better than a good day doing something else – I think I wrote something like that a long time ago when I was writing stories. Then again, maybe someone else wrote it. It must be a universal truth for people who fish with intent. A great day fishing is one where the water and the sky and the rocks, (oh how I do love the rocks as they glow underwater and the current moves around them!), vacuum all the thoughts from my mind until it feels as empty as the river looks; the ideas, feeling and worries become hidden like the fish are in the seams of the current.


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