Happy 15th Daniel!

It's hard to believe that our Daniel is fifteen years old. On one hand it seems like yesterday when I heard his first cry, looked into his eyes and kissed his forehead with immense gratitude and love. On the other hand it feels like fifteen years of joy, sleepless nights, reading, sharing, loving, all the building blocks of life with more happiness than we could have imagined. My little boy is a young man. A fifteen year old that knows what he wants and shows great passion in his quests . Happy Birthday Daniel, you are the light in my eyes, the laughter in my day. I wish you a life of discovery, wonder, love and inner peace. I wish you happiness and I love you to infinity and beyond.

Free

Carolina chickadee 

flew into the park

one brilliant morning.

The trees rejoiced,

their leaves swaying

to the autumn breeze.

I tasted a change coming

as my eyes softly

welcomed them 

with a smile.

I harbor memories

of long ago,

on a distant shore

of the caged small birds

chirping,

feasting passionately

from a sugar bowl

oblivious to their circumstance. 

The bartender said

they were love birds

and they mate for life.

He poured rum into a tall glass

while sand brushed my toes.

I laughed,

I remember my innocence.

Youth and it's delicious

and painful blunders,

a lifetime ago.

I sigh,

it's my lifetime ago,

my wonder,

my thirst for life and love

that awakened my resolve.

My rebellion

my transformation from a girl into a woman,

a woman that would become a mother,

that loved fiercely. 

A woman that believed in dreams

and starting over.

A woman that wanted to touch

the sky

like a free bird.

Paris Where Poetry Lives

The light in my heart is

overshadowed by sadness.

Darkness threatens in

a distance 

but I want to believe.

I want to believe 

that souls are tuned

to angels as they sing.

I search for words

through the rubble 

of the day,

the lack arises from

the pain that sears.

Light and darkness,

the spaces of life,

empty moments,

pregnant moments.

Evil trampled on the 

garden of existence 

and vaporized hopes and dreams.

The knife blunt,

the sword sharp,

the cries to the heavens

echoing through the universe,

while bad seeds blind and deaf

to the sounds

of humanity.

I want to believe

in the sacred

in the pure

in the grace of the

poetry that lives 

in these streets.

I want to believe 

I want to touch the light,

and hear the angels sing.

A Queen

We bought brown suede boots

durable and rugged.

We bought the boots 

to wear them to the field 

when we ran with our dog.

She was a puppy then

running with joyful abandon

chasing shadows

and her tail.

I lost myself in her gaze,

she laid glued to me

leaving no room for anyone else.

She was graceful as if

she knew that she was

a queen in another life,

and I was her servant. 

He misses her,

and he misses the young

girl I used to be. 

Join us at http://dversepoets.com/ where we share our thoughts and our hearts.

Gone

When I am gone,

 I want to dwell in your dreams

like a fluttering butterfly
on your skin.

Kiss your eyelids as you sleep
and embrace you with my wings.
when I am gone I will dance with you

through all the continents,

we will

 hopscotch through the stars
as we climb into

 each others arms.
When I am gone
I'll leave my scent on your pillow

while the violins play

and you drink poems for breakfast

in a tall cup

knowing you were loved.

Life

It's always been difficult for me to leave myself open and vulnerable even though in my poetry I do, in my daily life it's not always easy to do. The last few weeks were filled with questions and uncertainties. I was tackling some health issues that are still unresolved. A good friend texted me the other day to ask how I was doing. I answered optimistic and with gratitude for the improvement that I have experienced so far. Later I reflected and I realized how hard it is for me to accept that all this worry and fear has left me depressed. I have not had patience to write, to read, to visit my friends on their blogs. I try to assure everyone around me that I am fine because I don't want to burden them. As a mother, wife, friend, I have always tried to comfort everyone. I think I have to accept the way I feel and allow them to comfort me. 

Fear

Fear whispered in my ears,

like a mosquito feasting on my skin.

It whispered doubts,

 it challenged me into a battle

on the field of life.

I left fear on the sidelines of youth,

and it found me in mid life.

It entered like a burglar

on a dark night,

awakened me in my sleep

and shined a bright light 

in my eyes.

It stood over me

as my heart raced.

Fear climbed the fence

of my garden

and planted seeds

while my back was turned,

like a needle piercing my subconscious.

Fear touched my wounds,

injured my being.

It whispered,

it whispered,

then it roared.

Heart

You know my heart,

the hallways and corridors.

You walked through touching

the walls,

touching my lust and melancholy,

my addiction and joy.

You know my heart,

how it beats to your touch,

how it dances around your moon.

You have heard the thunder

of my heart,

the rivers of my veins pulsating

as you swam through them,

floating lost in the shadows,

familiar with the fears.

You know my heart,

it beats to your touch,

it climbs to meet you,

it holds you close.

The angels watched

The church bells rang,

chords were played.

On your lips

 confession 

and redemption.

Fine nectar must be tasted

and savored.

The angels watched me

even though I rebelled

and traveled roads less desired.

There was truth in chains

that held me down,

excavating my spirit,

making it soar high.

There was you,

you loved me well,

the way I desired.

You learned my secrets

and took possession of my soul.

Humanity II

I wrote a poem

and betrayed my soul

for today I feel dark and alone.

The news saturating our beings,

 drowning us

with sorrow.

The ancient temple destroyed, 

migrants fleeing to Hungary,

children hungry and lost.

Senseless killings,

manhunts and lives coming undone.

My heart aches,

I am ankle deep in the sewer of life. 

Philosophy and love are not the answer,

heroin on the streets is not the answer,

frankly I don't know what is.

 

Humanity

Poets write verses about summer

days ending,

fleeting and whimsical.

I am ankle deep with sorrow

and worry.

Humanity is consumed in darkness

and despair,

let the watchman ring the bells,

turn the lights

and bring hope back into our hearts.

Cultivate kindness,

erase hatred,

cultivate tolerance 

annihilate prejudice. 

Restore humanity with love

and let it spread

with understanding and grace.  

This poem is written for http://dversepoets.com/ where we writing about the watchman. Personally I was having coffee this morning with my husband and I was expressing how sad I feel when I watch the news and  see the condition humanity is in. There is so much that is tragic and senseless and it leaves me feeling despair.

 

Leonard Cohen

His words are the soundtrack

of the morning,

like a flower opening to light and sun.

Like the wind touching my face,

and my old wounds.

Like the ivy growing on the wall,

like a lover crawling on my skin.

The bird of Paradise plant

is exceptionally brilliant today,

as if his words warmed her too.

Inspired,

I smile with answers to ancient questions,

to finding my way home

following the bread crumbs that he left behind.

My spirituality never questioned

nor displayed,

only my heart shinning like a beacon.

 

I found Leonard Cohen too late in my life, he is my new obsession. His thoughts resonate with me, his wisdom draws me in. He is an icon and a genius. 

Halfway

When the end comes

it's not announced by trumpets,

nor by red carpet to welcome it.

When the end comes,

it's manifested in deaf ears,

and in sharp words that sting.

Smooth verses

are stored away like

ornaments after Christmas.

Silence gnaws like

acid on metal,

the exterior still shinny and gleaming.

Green fields turn brown

from drought.

Halfway roads are less traveled,

the cold hangs in the air,

even though the sun is shinning.

Five Year Blog Anniversary

I fell into life's embrace,

decay crawling on my skin,

naked to be seen.

Utopia,

a place? a destination?

my soul scarred,

shattered pieces

healed by love.

My vessel fragile,

yet my spirit like a great oak tree.

How do I matter?

What is this journey

called life?

The past and the present,

side by side,

tied like a ship with a lifeboat.

Where I have been,

what I have done,

is written on my soul.

What is life, if not

for the love that I breathe,

for the love I have nurtured

for my boys.

Every breath they took,

gave me the will to be better,

to survive,

to evolve.

Love is the greatest gift,

it blooms in my heart,

it flows through my veins,

it saturates my being.

 Five years ago today I began posting on my blog, a sun kissed life. It was a difficult time, I had lost both my parents and I felt wounded, tired, and vulnerable. A desire was sparked to write again and to stand with an open heart and share it. The desire was mixed with fear of leaving myself naked to be seen. My pain expressed for strangers to see, but I took a leap. At first the posts remained empty of comments, and it was okay because after all I was writing to find happiness within. As time went by my blog blossomed, other bloggers that I respected came by to read which made me happy and grateful. I was welcomed to a wonderful community of bloggers,poets,authors and journalists. We bleed on our pages and we share our souls. My blog brought me back to the writing I had left behind. It has made me examine ordinary and extraordinary moments of my life. To all my friends I want to say thank you for embracing me with love and acceptance. I am blessed to have you all in my life!

Summer kissed days

Summer kissed days,

did I dream of this moment

when you were born. 

Pride swells within

for your accomplishments 

and your journey.

It is no longer the

days and years that I embroidered 

With delicate threads of love and knowledge

It is your hard work and vision.

I held you in my arms

and sang you lullabies 

I read you books of wars and peace

of cultures foreign 

and told you that we were all one,
connected. 

You were wide eyed
with an open heart and imagination 

with purpose and intention.
You grew into a man
that others admire
and I my dearest
can only sigh
and be thankful that you call me mom. 

A June Morning

The owls await

peeking from their burrow

greeting the day.

I capture a snapshot

as they exit and lounge

on green grass

knowing that it's different

than yesterday's.

They are not modeling new fur,

or wearing a hat,

nor a new disposition,

but something is changed

even if I can't pinpoint to what it is.

I watch with joy every time

we meet.

" Good morning", I utter,

they look back silently.

Some days they shy away

and hide.

Sometimes they meet my gaze,

their brave souls shinning

through bright eyes

but I 

as they

know that they are different today.




Join us at http://dversepoets.com/

A day in the ocean

 Beauty is around me,

underneath the blue sky,

I hold my breath when I

encounter a flying fish.

How glorious he must feel

to leap in the ocean,

and glide in flight over it.

I taste salt on my lips,

how sweet to feel one

with the vastness,

with the glory of it.

The waves awaken us,

it begins with the breath,

this journey of a thousand heartbreaks

and triumphs. 

Life dangles on a thin thread

we weave,

and we come undone.

Miraculous visions,

while the storms appear on the horizon.

It begins with the breath

and ends there.

http://dversepoets.com/2015/05/26/everyday-poetry-poetics/ Join us there

Grace in the moments

I savor small bites of happiness,

leaving some for other days.

Days unfolding with grace,

there are those moments undefined

simple,

the kind that flow through my hands

like running water.

Those are the moments

I remember at 4 o'clock  

in the morning 

when I can't sleep

and you embrace me

in your half sleep

our bodies forming a crescent moon.

The days sometimes escape me,

hours playing hide and seek

but the moments

leave me dazzled and spent.

Glorious they stand on their own

two feet.

Armenian Genocide -100 Years

Coal black sky,

awakens repressed memories.

Whispers of angels silenced.

You are not forgotten,

the moon watched 

while humanity looked away,

one hundred years of denial.

Grandpa,

I stood beside you as a boy,

and as a man I carry you in my heart.

Your kind but dark eyes,

pieced my consciousness with

stories of your plight,

living in a cave,

marching in the desert,

eating weeds and plants.

You were a baby boy orphaned,

grief held your hand.

You were too young to remember

your mother's love

your mother's embrace.

The emptiness,

and the sadness lingered.

The oppressors sought to destroy,

they sought deportation,

humiliation,

death.

The oppressors wished

to erase you

and our bloodline.

One hundred years of denial,

echo like whispers,

reverberate from the earth

of those that perished.

You survived

to flourish

you survived 

to tell your story

the darkness always in the shadows

 of each day.

Grandpa,

I remember.

Grandpa,

your words are not forgotten,

I retell my children of those dark days,

of their legacy,

of survival rich with

honor of your life.

Grandpa,

I stood beside you as a child,

as a man I carry you in my heart.

This is dedicated to my husband and his grandpa, a survivor of the Armenian Genocide. This is dedicated to all the grandchildren and children of the survivors. We must never forget the atrocities committed.

The beauty that is life

y.

The leaf bathes

in the morning light,

floating with grace and beauty.

The geese

welcomed new life today.

The trees whispered 

of spring as I walked by.

At dawn I listened

to him breathing.

The moment magnified

by it's simplicity,

by the truth

of the beauty that life is.

He is the one

the dog followed home,

he kept him and made him his own,

protected and loved him

to the end.

He is the son that held his mother

as she shook with chemo

and life.

He is the one

that delights in a screeching reel

and the cat that follows him to the lake.

He is the one that feeds the squirrels

and thinks to buy a cup of joe

for the crossing guard.

He is the one with fire

in his veins.

He is the one that holds me

when the day is dark

and I feel empty.

He looks into my eyes

and sees my soul.

He is the one.

My beloved and the wind

The light penetrated through the clouds,

I watched fireflies entangled in a dance.

The blue Jay jeered attempting

to distract me

and the hawks.

The wind silently

caressed my face.

If tomorrow does not come

and I don't lay in your arms once again

or roll in the sand,

drink the moon on an evening of poetry

and love

lights twinkling in our eyes.

If tomorrow does not come,

and I don't touch the dew on the grass 

at daybreak,

or I may not touch the edges of a book

cutting my skin and soul

as I linger and kiss your neck,

if tomorrow does not come

I would have had enough

because you had loved me.

Forgiveness and The Long Way Home

I had a red shinny tricycle,

but never a bicycle.

I dreamt of riding free,

in a yellow lemon dress,

flying down the hill

with the wind caressing my hair.

Dad feared I would fall

and I would hurt myself.

So I didn't fly until years later,

when I ran away,

no longer accepting to be sheltered

from the storms of life.

I left with a plane ticket,

the clothes on my back,

and a dream in my eyes.

My purse stuffed with family photographs

that I treasured,

memories of what I was leaving behind.

No money

or plans,

the man sitting next to me spoke

about pre Colombian  art,

puzzled, he watched the stars in my eyes.

My life was waiting,

forbidden love,

youth, brilliant and reckless.

Seduced by a freedom fighter,

not knowing he worshiped methadone,

hidden away in the refrigerator.

When John Lennon was shot

I still believed in the change that never came.

I battled his demons

and lost.

Broken dreams and promises.

I woke up one day and walked

away with my soul battered
but not defeated.

I walked away 

and opened new doors

and dreamt new dreams

fire in my soul

the wind on my back.

Refuge

I bow to the trees,

the birds are my choir.

I find refuge in silent fields,

immunity unspoken,

wounds barely healed,

redemption afforded.

I have forgiven you,

but not myself.

"Not possible" you exclaim,

the ache is throbbing,

the mind is searching,

answers are far and few.

Don't ask me if I want to live,

ask me if I choose to die.

So excited that http://dversepoets.com/ is featuring http://dannygregorysblog.com/. The photo above is his illustration. I recently found him through my friend and talented poet and artist Claudia at https://jaywalkingthemoon.wordpress.com/ . I love his work !

Waiting to grow up

The sidewalk had traces of pink and yellow chalk,

sounds echoed of hopscotch played yesterday.

My footsteps heavy,

sadness in my heart

locked away.

I thought about the war,

sirens in the night,

a ladybug crawling on my arm.

There was a boy in school,

with big brown eyes,

his locks curled gently.

He never saw me,

he was three years older.

I knew love would come one day,

exquisite,

heartbreaking,

glorious love.

We left home

my brothers grown,

they attempted to shield me

from scraped knees,

broken bones and reality.

They could not see 

how sad my smile was,

how deep my thoughts.

We crossed the ocean 

and planted our lives

like roots of a tree into a 

new society.

I was mesmerized at the pace,

macaroni and cheese in

a blue and yellow Kraft box,

television loud with color and life.

There were egg shaped tape players,

and boats bobbing in the bay.

The sound of the waves in the ocean

lulled me to sleep.

I was dreaming

waiting to grow up.

Happy 29

Dearest Josh,

I normally write you a poem that celebrates you and this moment in your life. Today I am writing a post

celebrating milestones and a son that has made my soul swell with love. The first time I saw you there was no doubt that you were everything that was good and right in my life. I wanted to make your world perfect but it wasn't. Whatever struggles that came our way I was there to battle them and I was there to protect you from the storms. We spent days reading, playing, conversing. You were a sweet baby, alert and eager. You were a curious toddler. You loved history and science. When you won the fire prevention poster in Kindergarten you felt especially proud because we took it to a professional frame shop to have it matted and framed. You were filled with wonder and our favorite time was every evening reading books, great books that we would discuss and laugh about. You played soccer and baseball and I sat on the bleachers cheering you on. In high school you volunteered at the hospital that you were born at. That first day you called me and you told me that there was a code blue and someone had died and that you wanted to be a doctor to help people. I told you as I often did ,that I support you and you should do what you are passionate about. You have trained hard through the last few years becoming a wonderful doctor and a humanitarian.When you read this you will roll your eyes because it comes naturally to you to be this kind and generous man. I am proud of you, I always have been and I always will be. I love you for always and forever.

Beloved

If I forget you,

let death carry me on her shoulders.

If I forget you 

the walls of my heart

would be empty,

the sounds of my soul 

would be silent.

If I forget you

there is no reason to live,

you are the heartbeat,

you are the flame of my soul.

Wondrous

I dove into the ocean

to catch a glimpse

of a sea turtle.

I saw him for a moment,

majestic,

grand,

and my heart fluttered.

I saw pods of dolphins

in the wild, 

leaping,

frolicking like children in 

the playground

and my heart sang.

I saw wondrous things

without a compass to lead the way

nor a plan.

My guide was my curiosity

and the willingness to fail.