Wednesday, August 27, 2014

she sang

she sang out loud
with joy of voice.
nobody listened.
so she asked herself
why sing at all
if ears are closed.
but
she sang another
note,
then waited,
hoping....
jones beach birdie

man builds bridges

man builds bridges
big and tall
but be cannot cross
the divide between
love and hate
at all.

(he barely makes
it to the border
of the toleration
nation.)

on the way to NJ


Tuesday, August 26, 2014

picture postcard houses

picture postcard houses.
other people's lives.
parents, children,
husbands, wives.
behind these
walls of luxury.
human beings...
just like we!
a view from norman j

he called out

he called out in a voice,
loud and clear.
did anyone listen
or take
the time
to
hear.
at norman j

she was trapped in her thoughts

she was trapped in her thoughts
but wriggled free long enough
to notice the beauty outside
her miseries.

sitting outside the yoga studio.

Monday, August 25, 2014

we miss you little parrot girl

she knew she was pretty.
she knew she was sweet.
she knew she had us wrapped
around her cute birdie
feets

we miss you funny birdie girl
pteri tea rose max...our little pteribird
♥pteribird cuteness forever♥

how strange to some

how strange to some
the concept of difference.
aforementioned some
even resent the
inference.
but to what standard
then,
should we conform.
what is sick and
twisted to one,
to another is
the norm.
at norman j

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i am older than dirt and proud of it!!!! i have managed to incorporate my eternal 60's nation spirit with the high tech 21st century world. i am an artist/writer, who dabbles in rhyme, and, sometimes, reason. my passions are my husband, who is truly the wind that ruffles my sails, animals rights, yoga, the beach, waking up in the morning. i find inspiration in too many things to list, and far too many more to remember. i have added sketching, watercolor painting, and photography to my ways of expressing joy and gratitude. from living with a chronic illness, i have learned the beauty of each day, and treat each as another sun salutation, and another chance. P.S. all painting, poems and photographs are my originals karen Lyons kalmenson