Time Like An Ever-Rolling Stream

...Seems to keep going on and leaving me behind, gasping on the shore.

I have survived Advent, Christmas, Epiphany, and Ash Wednesday.  Again.  My birthday is fast approaching, (and I don't want to think about which one THIS is,) and my Birthday Vacation Week has been beset by freezing rain and sleet, and all manner of unpleasant weather.

On to the Journal.  Some of the entries are drawings or collages this year.  I will attempt to upload photos, but I make no promises on the quality thereof.

January 3. 2018

My words:  Even the mighty sun must give the cold its due.
Sun at last but still COLD!

Hearts see what eyes cannot

Rumi's words:
"Lo, I am with you always means when you look for God,
God is in the look of your eyes,
In the thought of looking,
 nearer to you than your self,
                                           or things that have happened to you.
                                         There is no need to go outside."


-Vincent and Catherine snuggled up together reading on their ledge in the chamber of the falls
_ Arthur rolled up in a ball sleeping in his corner of Mouse's "Mouse Hole"
- The many bright candles in Father's study, lighting reading, studying, listening, and sharing.
- Just a few BATB scenes that make me feel warm and cozy on a Winter's day.

Music is VERY necessary.  

I NEED to sing.

 

Pauses are important.  Especially in music.

There is no joy so transcendent as being fully engaged in singing or playing.  Music fills in the empty places-gives voice to the hidden things, observes with great diligence the silences.






January 4, 2018

-The idea was to write more.  Why the artwork all the sudden?
*The idea is to create, and writing is creative, and often requires little visual reminders or idea generators.
THAT is why the collages.

The days are so busy at work -
I guess everyone was resolved to use their library more this year!

The World is too much with us- too demanding of my attention.
Too busy to play with my art work -
Too busy to rest -
After I get done on the desk I have to set up for Zumba.  It's a busy night!



January 4, 2018

My words:  It means something when a film will not let you go...

From the film:  "Unable to perceive the Shape Of You,
I find you all around me.  Your presence fills my eyes with your love, It humbles my heart. For You are everywhere."












January 5, 2018

Minor inconveniences
But sometimes
The build up of them
Becomes an avalanche
Of awfulness.
Frustration.
Anxiety.
A feeling that
We cannot even
Handle the small
Business of life
So no wonder
The Whole world seems
So messed up.

That is why anything that makes us stop and really think is always so welcome.  Shape of Water is one of those things that arrests your ever-tumbling mind.
Makes you ponder
Makes you wonder
About the true nature of love
And about which things
Really matter.
Makes that mountain
Of annoyances
Back into just
A little bunch
Of annoying things
Reminds you
That we can do this
We can  make the world better
If we remember how to love.


January 6, 2018

His world: A secret place
Far Below the City streets
Safe from hate and harm


Her world:  Where the Wealthy and the Powerful rule...

I'm just a sucker for fairy tales...

A love like no other -

When a story is so well presented, characters so compelling and brought so skillfully to life,
It's no wonder 30 years later we still share the Dream.


The day is called Epiphany.
A discovery
When the Wise Men found the Christ Child
Christmas is officially over now.

So far this day
I have discovered that I don't know what I'm doing with the Paint program
And that this desk is very busy today
And I'm tired.


Story Idea:  It's very cold in NYC, in fact, a blizzard has blown up
So far, nothing is causing a problem for the world Below, but some of their helpers are suffering a bit.
Power outages have caused some to seek refuge Below - mostly the elderly.
Catherine is just getting over a bad cold,and has been reluctant to bring germs Below-
Vincent senses something wrong through the bond, but the weather  ( and time of day) make it impossible for him to go to her - so he recruits Peter, who takes Kanin with him (Just in case Catherine needs to be carried)
They get her to Vincent, who takes her to Father...
From this point a story of getting warm and sharing warmth, of many kinds, as only the Tunnel family can.
It was all still so new- this situation
...and saw the gold band on his finger...
That ring
The weight of it
 The promises it represented.
It's truth -
That he was hers and she his
The responsibility it represented
It was more than just his right, it was his duty to be with her in this, as in all things.
Not that long ago, he would have run from being this close to her, even though she needed his physical warmth like this - It was a glorious and also daunting thing to actually BE as responsible for her well-being as he had always felt himself to be.
That she felt responsible for his well being also went without saying.  She took every precaution to protect him,and this world.
If only she would see taking care of herself, her health, as part of taking care of him, because it was.
He knew she did many things above to protect both him and his world, but she still ran herself ragged, working too hard, doing too much, and not letting him and his family take care of her.
He sighed as he looked at her next to him.  So cold, so worn out, so determined not to be a burden, not to appear to be getting "special treatment."  Never mind that she was one of them, and also a Helper who did far more than most realized, she felt she couldn't "impose" on this world with her needs.
That would end.  He would see to it.  She would be made to understand that he and their family here WANTED to take care of her, NEEDED to give back at least a little to one who so unselfishly gave so much to them.  The physical closeness was no longer a source of fear to him, but a source of chagrin, sometimes.  He often felt, since they married, as though he couldn't keep his hands off of her.  She seemed equally unable to keep from touching him - whenever they were in the same room.  Well, they were still newlyweds, but all of his hard-won self control seemed to  have fled with the discovery that Catherine was right about their bond, that he simply COULDN'T hurt her, even when "lost" in passion because ALL of him loved her.
She had stopped shivering .  He held her close to him his sense of her conveying the rest and recuperation taking place.  Everything in both of them improved when they were close.
He reflected that there were things he knew about her now that he hadn't  before - The taste of the skin right where her neck sloped out toward her shoulders, the delicacy of her ears, and how his nibbling at them could send both fire and shivers through her, and make her moan with pleasure and reach back for him, if he snuck up behind her and "assaulted"  her earlobe.
He knew how completely icy her feet could be at night, and that she loved to place them on him - legs or back, in order to warm them - she now knew that he snarled when surprised like that.

He looked at her finally peaceful face - she was warm now.  Of course she was.  She was at last home.  Safe. In his arms.  In their bed.  In the heart of a community that loved them both.

(See the completed story "If We Had No Winter" at
  http://absentmindedwanderings.blogspot.com/2018/01/if-we-had-no-winter-post-for-winterfest.html )


January 7, 2018

Such a cold, dark, rainy, depressing day.
At least Discovery is back.
And Shape of Water only won Best Director and Best Original Score at the Golden Globes -

When do Oscar noms come out?

And tomorrow is Monday.
Oy...


January 9, 2018
Something feels "off"
Like maybe I have a sinus infection
My head is fuzzy and achy
I have muscle aches
I'm cold a lot
I have a headache that never completely goes away.

Bits of stories trickling out...
Finding their way onto these pages,  I'm hoping I find them all when I start actually writing...


Jamuary11, 2018

Star Trek:  My first obsession with a television show.

The first show that made me
dream, gave me hope -
A big part of my life, and our culture.












So many things have inspired me over the years, but only  Beauty and the Beast has allowed me to write decent fan fiction.
Maybe because it's  all about relationship and love,  and the world it exists in is so well know to all us fans, whereas Star Trek is very fluid in location, though is also primarily concerned with relationships and values.

Was very much wanting to be home curled up with a good book the day I made this.  I actually had time to do this while on the Circ Desk, it was that slow.  When I do things like this on the desk, customers are interested. They really liked it when we had the "adult coloring for stress reduction" program going, and I'd work on a coloring project on the desk, and hand out flyers about the program to any customer who asked about my coloring.

This was a day I wanted to remember how the light looked as I drove to my voice lesson.  A storm was moving in, and changing the direction and quality of the light.  It was surreal.
















January 18, 2018

Work has been joyful lately in spite of short- handed shifts and lots of challenges.
Being able to help people, even if just by finding a misplaced hold, has been very fulfilling lately.
I like being able to make someone's day better.

January 22, 2018

Such a strange time.
Government shutdowns -
Having to shop off- base
because the commissary will be short-stocked, if not closed altogether.
Feeling like I'm coming down with a cold - Matt, too, but hoping it doesn't end up being flu- he hasn't had a flu shot.

Fuzzy edges
On the world
On  my thoughts
My limbs leaden
Too heavy to move
Freezing and then roasting-
 Is it an illness, hormones, or allergies?
Who knows?
My head that
Alternates
Between feeling
Like a barely tethered
Helium balloon
And a concrete block

January 24, 2018

Still trying not to be
Snot: The Slimer of Worlds
Not entirely succeeding.

There are things I need to keep in mind.  Some of the favorites I have saved off of calendars, etc.
"Most folks are about as happy as they make up their minds to be." - Abraham Lincoln

"Snap out of it!"  - Mary Engelbreit

"Worrying does not empty tomorrow of its troubles, it empties today of its strength." - a long time favorite from Mary Engelbreit, not sure where the quote came from.

"Don't confuse your path with your destination.

Just because it's stormy now, doesn't mean that your aren't headed for sunshine.  - from a calendar I had last year.

"If you pray for rain, be prepared to deal with some mud."

And an old favorite, "Bloom where you are planted."


February 1, 2018

I don't know why this one is upside down, nor am I sure how to fix it just now.  (And I've had a margarita already tonight, so no, I'm not going to try that right now.)
My notes say:

(pointing to the Dove sentiment "Go where your heart takes you")  Sounds like a paraphrase of Vincent - "Follow your heart."

Birthdays celebrate the gift of time.
We celebrate the gift of you.
-from a card I got years ago.  It's such a lovely sentiment.

Ah, February- Hearts and flowers and Valentine's Day; and my birthday later on!

Still cool, but no snow.  Sun is warm, though.

"...and even though it's snowing,
Violets are growing.  I know why and so do you..."

"I have phrases and whole pages memorized, but nothing can be told of love." - Rumi

"We are, as a species, addicted to story.
Even when the body goes to sleep,
the mind stays up all night, telling itself stories." - Jonathan Gottshall

I have told some stories.  Now to see if others enjoy them.  One of them came from notes in this journal.



February 3, 2018
Still winter.
As the edge on the wind
and the pale quality of the
sunlight
remind us.
Yet a bird's territorial song
And a Chickadee's scold,
Along with swelling buds
On the trees
Say
Spring is not far away.
Would that our hearts
Could know such a
Renewal
For these days are cold
And hard emotionally.
So many things
 Want my attention
Yet my butterfly mind
Refuses to settle
On any  one thing.


 February 7, 2018

One again with the short bits -
Wednesdays are busy at our library.
The water is out at the library again - probably for just one hour - we HOPE

I look at the piled up annoyances in my life,, and I say no WONDER my blood pressure is up.
Have to plan a wardrobe for two weeks in NYC.  Don't have budget to buy much - don't need much other than comfortable slip- ons I can walk in.
Tis the time of year for the library's least favorite question: "Do you have tax forms?"


February 14, 2018

Valentine's Day and Ash Wednesday, all in ONE!
Get your chocolate early, get your ashes later...

New sorter has arrived at the library. We are in the process of installation.
  Very nice young man is our tech.
About 45 minutes left to work today.
Then it's home and a LONG walk.  I was lazy this morning;  I need to make up for it.

THEN, we have Ash Wednesday evening service instead of choir rehearsal.



That's the last of the journal  entries.  Life has kind of been either too busy or too "meh" for me to write much the last eight days or so.
I am on my annual "birthday vacation week" this week, so the weather closings have not affected me, except to make me stir crazy!  It's been a pretty crappy vacation, stuck in the house except for Tuesday when I went to the Commissary, and incidentally, spent WAY LESS MONEY for my groceries and paper goods than I did last month when I had to shop off base because of Cheeto Head and his shutdown.
The commissary is a major benefit.

One reason this blog has been so neglected is that I have been actually writing something besides journal posts and poetry for a change.  I have written some fan fiction stories, and most of them can be found on my new blog,
https://absentmindedwanderings.blogspot.com/

All of my fan fiction is about the 1987- 90 TV series Beauty and the Beast, and I write "classic" BATB fiction, which means the third season didn't happen, Catherine is still alive and well.

Watch Out, It's Poetry Month!!

April's Fool
C.K. Armistead 4/1/2016

And I wonder
Sometimes
If I am the only one
Who isn't paying attention
And missing the joke.
Everyone else is laughing,
And I wonder why.
Sometimes
I am afraid they are
Laughing
AT me,
Which I feel bad about,
IF you laugh WITH me,
I don't mind a bit.
My heart isn't exactly
On my sleeve,
But I can still be
Hurt.
Pretty deeply
When you're not looking
I cry all over the
Pages
And rain words
Like tears
Until I feel
Well again.

The Stuff Of Life
C.K. Armistead
4/2/2016

"Do not squander time,
It is the stuff Life
Is made of"
Or some similar thing
Said the sundial
Shown on
Gone With The Wind
I have always wondered
About that.
Time is such a fickle commodity.
Running fast as Spring storm water
Or as slowly as the proverbial
Molasses.
Slowly, and wearily
Ticking by
When life is hard upon us,
When we are sad,
Or waiting for news
Rushing and roaring
Right past us
When there are things
We need to do,
When we are with the ones
We love and do not
Often get to see.
There never seems to be enough time
To just hug the stuffing out
Of the ones you love so much
That are usually far away
Never enough time
To stop and say
I love you,
I really do.
My life would be SO much less
Without you in it,
Even if you are usually
So far away
 Physically.
 So, all of you
That I rarely see,
But who mean
So much to me,
(And I hope by now
you all KNOW who you are.)
I love you, I really do
My life would be SO much less
Without you in it.
Really.
Please know that it is true.

The Thief
C.K.Armistead
4/2/16

Time is a thief
We all know this.
You look up  one day
And the face staring back at you
Has wrinkles
And your hair is grey.
You think about things,
And it seems they happened
Only yesterday.
But it's been more
Than 30 years.
You aren't that old yet?
Don't feel too cocky.
Time's stealing your life away, too.
You just haven't noticed yet.
Why all this musing on time today?
Well,
Thirty years ago today
My Pop died.
He's been gone now
Longer than I had him with me in my life.
I was 26 years old.
Already married,
Already not living at home,
But still his Baby Girl.
His Sugar Foot.
Katie Didder.
Only HE got to call me that.
Nobody else better try it.
No matter how much
Of life Time steals away,
That little girl
Who loves her Pop
Is still here.
Still trying
To make him proud.

Spring
C.K.Armistead
4/3/2016

Warm inviting sunshine
But the breeze still has an edge
Trees still not quite leafed out
But daffodils blooming under the hedge.

Spirit yearning to stretch and grow
Yet flesh resistant to trust
That new, flickering, struggling glow
Afraid to stand and shake off the rust.

A season of such contradiction
Of profuse, expansive bloom
And sudden, freezing contraction
Of hope in the light,  but full consciousness of the gloom.

Lord of Springtime, Lord of love
Strengthen our trembling hearts
That we may show the world your love
And spread peace to all its parts.

And Do You Know?
C.K. Armistead 4/3/16

We speak so seldom
Hardly seems we could be
Friends.
Yet, I believe we are.
Your smile makes my heart happy
Your adventures are of interest
Even though you are not
Right here
In my everyday life.
So many of you,
Friends and family
Both.
That live in my heart
And always will
Though we don't often
Connect.
And do you know
That you are loved?
I hope you do
Because you are.
And do you know
It matters not
That we aren't close
You are still cared for.
Your presence matters
To me in this world.
Don't forget that
Please.
I've lost one who did forget
Who thought he was all alone
When he was surrounded by
Love.
Please remember
You are loved.
You are.
And do you know how dearly?
Do you?

Planting Dreams
C.K. Armistead
4/4/16

Spring air stirs the soul
Calls me outdoors,
Sets me to dreaming of beautiful
Flowers
Fragrant herbs,
And pleasant shady
Evenings
In the garden
With you.

Soil amended
New plants planted,
Prayers said for their
Prosperity.
Achy back and sore knees
Water bill going higher
All for the dream
Of fragrant beauties
Found in this garden
If Nature so pleases.

Brutus Waiting

C.K.Armistead 

4/5/16

He sits by Daddy's  chair

Ears up

Listening,

Bright eyes watching. 

He's always up to make a new friend,

But his eyes

Are watching 

For Mama.

He's  well behaved,

Quite polite,

Greeting all who greet him,

Never pestering those that don't

He always seems a happy boy

But oh, when Mama comes out,

You've never seen such joy!

If he could, he'd twist and shout

A Good Night For Sleeping
By C.K.Armistead
4/5/16

"It's so windy,
It's a good night for sleeping."
My Pop used to say.
I used to think he was nuts.
All I could hear
Was the old tree outside (and above)
My bedroom creaking, groaning,
And moaning like Marley's ghost
Thought it was coming for me
For sure.
But Pop loved the wild song of the wind
Loved the whispers of the places
It had been
The power in that invisible
Breeze
That could bend and even buckle
Mighty trees.
Even now,
When the wind is especially high,
I remember Pop
And his anticipation
Of being sung to sleep
By the song
Of the wind.

Awake 

By C.K. Armistead 

4/6/16

To wake up

To move, stretch,

Feel with your body

That your mind

Has come online again.

My body often resists,

Telling my brain 

To shut up,

I need more time.

Perhaps, rather, it is

My mind

That  seeks to stay

In the carefree realm

Of slumber, 

Where no demands are made, 

And no responses expected. 

To be awake, aware of the world 

Around us

Implies a responsibility 

To interact with that world.

There are things We must do,

Responses we must make 

If we are to function properly 

In the world 

Both for our own comfort, 

And that of others.

If we seek to remain 

Asleep,

We don't fulfill our side

Of the bargain with

Society 

That allows us all to live 

With at least some degree

Of peace.

We must, therefore, 

Be awake and aware,

And do our share

Of the work

Of civilization. 

So that the agents of

Chaos

Are not allowed

To destroy those 

Who cannot defend 

Themselves

Those who need their rest

And trust the rest of us 

To watch over the safety 

Of their sleep.

The Cyclical Nature Of Time
C.K. Armistead 4/7/16

Birth.
Life.
Death.
Waking,
Doing,
Sleeping.
Childhood,
Adulthood,
Old age.
We begin with little
But potential
Add knowledge
And experience
Every day.
End up full
Of emotions
And knowledge
But out of time
To share them
The trick is
To make the most
Of the middle
Life
Doing
Adulthood
The time to collect knowledge
And experiences,
But also to share them
So that old age
May be spent
Relishing them.
And all those
Who we met
Along the way.

Peaceful  Place

By C. K. Armistead 

4/8/ 16

There is an astonishing 

Amount of peace

To be found in one's own

Garden.

Never mind the awful amount

Of work involved in establishing 

And maintaining it

The blooms

And the birdsong

Bring such balm

As offsets all the toil.

A "Good" Tired
By C.K.Armistead
 4/9/16

Achy,
But not sore.
Weary,
But capable of more.
Awake,
But not wired.
Satisfied -
It's a good tired.

Goals set
And accomplished
Challenges met
Feeling astonished
That the race is done,
Our tasks are complete
We have won
We rest replete.


Dark Is His Path
By C.K.Armistead
April 11, 2016

When the sky
Turns ugly
And the wind whispers
Of threats coming
I turn my eyes
To the horizon,
And see the storm
Approaching.
I remember then
A line from an old hymn
"And dark is his path
On the wings of the storm."
About God's nearness
Even in turbulent times.
Still
It seems he does have
A very rugged and dark
Path
To come to save us
Along the flanks
Of that boiling,
Dark,
Flashing,
Howling
Storm.

Hurry And Worry

C.K. Armistead  4/12/16

The phone rings incessantly. 

On more than one line.

No sooner dealt with,

And it rings again. 

Time I do not have, 

For I am due 

At the service desk

Where a line of customers  wait.

All afternoon, 

One question after another,

One smile after another. 

Often they come with worry,

And because of information we have,

They leave with a smile.

There have been enough of those today

To make the hurry worthwhile.


Writing
C.K.Armistead 4/13/1
When staring at a blank page
It seems time drags like the last ice age
When ideas finally pop
You write so fast your hand will drop
Lifeless into your lap
Before you run out of creative sap.
If you try to force the muse
She will pout and flatly refuse
No words will flow, none will fit
What you produce will sound like, well, Sh*t.
When at last the muse agrees,
Writing will become a breeze
Images and words will show it
You are and always have been a poet.


I suppose these next lines count as a poem.  I wrote them today in honor of a friend's birthday:

To my friend Ron:
I can't make collages or do video
 Words are the only art I know
 So from my heart I will say
 I wish you a very happy Birthday

Perhaps I should rather say
 Greetings and felicitations on your natal day!


Is That Me?
By C.K. Armistead
4/14/16
Sometimes the mirror
Startles me.
Who is that lady?
The one with grey hair
But a cute haircut,
And who is in better shape
Than I thought I was.
Is that me?
Really?
Because I feel
Clumsy and big
Even though I am
But little.
I feel like the awkward teen
Who wrote angst filled verse
And dreamed of making
A splash in the world
But was afraid
Of her own words.
Who is that confident
Woman
Looking back at me?


For The Birds
C.K.Armistead
4/14/16

Dear Starling in the pecan tree
Bleeping and clicking like
An electronic device at me
Please be so kind as to take a hike.
Your incessant noise is most unpleasant
And the St. Francis statue below you
Doesn't look good wearing your excrement
Kindly find another loo!

Dear Blue Jay creaking on the fence
I know you only want a bath, you see
Please know that I won't take offense
If you make use of our birdbath facility.
I only ask that you take care
And don't fling the water everywhere
I'm not sitting that far away,
And I must look presentable at work today.

Dear Mocking bird scolding the squirrel
Please realize that he doesn't care.
You can scold and dive and whirl
And he'll just stop and blankly stare.
Please take your loud shenanigans
Away, I fiercely plead
For I have to begin all over again
This page I've been trying to read.

Dear Robin singing from on high
You alone are welcome here
Your song so lovely makes me sigh
It is a pleasure to my ear
If those others would so pardon
Us, and be on their merry way
Joining the pigeon squadron
 Off to find the next full feeder of the day.

Dear Sparrows flitting everywhere,
You may stay as well, I guess.
Your merry play without care
Eases much of my stress.
Though most of you can be a pain,
The yard would be lonely without you
So please, come back and visit again
But don't use St. Francis for a loo!

Come With Me!
C.K.Armistead
4/15/16

Come with me!
Look!
See?
It's all here in a
Book.
Adventures galore
Trips to a faraway shore
Rich and satisfying lore
Will leave you begging for more
Just one more
Story.
Please?
I'll go right to sleep,
I promise,
Just one more story
Too help me keep
My dreams alive tonight?
Please?
Listen...
Once upon a time
In a kingdom bright
A little dragon
Wouldn't say goodnight
He began to weep...
Because he didn't
Want to go
To sleep.
Sleep, little dragon
Don't you know?
All of us will watch
Over you
And wait for tomorrow
To hear your stories anew.
Away with sorrow,
Away with fear,
Sleep, little dragon,
You have friends here.

Symmetry 

By C.K.Armistead 

4/17/16

Symmetry  is supposed to be 

Attractive to the human mind

But it is evident to me

That my face is not

The symmetrical kind

My left eye is at a tiny bit

Of an angle

My dimples seem to sit

In something of a tangle.

It makes my smile quirk

With a twinkling sort of grace

And so it seems to work

For my particular face.

Spring Rain
By C.K. Armistead
4/18/16

And the rain came
And the waters rose
I feared for the safety
Of the new plants
Those not yet anchored
In the newly placed soil.
But they seem fine
Growing and prospering
In spite of the rain.
Perhaps because of it.
Just as we dread the dreary
Stormy times
Fearing for the safety
Of our tenuous connection
To this life
Yet they seem to bring
Deep nourishment
To our souls
Helping us flourish
In the end.

Remembrance
C.K.Armistead
4/20/16

Every year
April 19th brings
The sounds, the sights,
The feelings
Back.
The shock
The hurt
The tears.

Even now, sometimes
I see the ruin
Of that building
In my mind
And I remember
Families torn apart,
Our community's heart broken.

The day brings back
So much sadness
Those injured,
Those lost
Especially the children
Who never  had a
Chance to grow up.

It also brought gifts
The gift of love
In the face of  hatred
The gift of courage
In the face of terror,
The gift of healing
In the midst of broken hearts.

That day showed us all
Both how awful humans can be
And also how marvelous,
How loving and sacrificing
Humans can be.
That day taught me
That I, too, was now
An Oklahoman.

(In honor of the 21st anniversary of the bombing of the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building in downtown OKC.)

A Very Special Gift

By C.K.Armistead 

4/20/16

Perhaps the best gift

To come all unexpected  from

That sorrowful April  day

Is the musical gift

We have found

Since becoming a part

Of the choir.

In truth and in symbol

The harmonies 

We partake in 

Are a gift of fellowship 

And worship 

A wonderful unity

Found in that blend

Our individual voices

Into one.

Every week since

That awful day

We have been safe

In the midst of that

Harmony 

In the midst of our family 

Of faith.

Which if not for tragedy 

We might never

Have truly found.

Music is both worship

And prayer

Giving blessing

To both listeners

And singers.

A beautiful expression 

Of our love for God

And one another.


2016
By C.K. Armistead
4/22/16

I sit and stare at the screen
Sadness everywhere, it would seem.
So much loss, I want to scream
I truly wonder what it all means.

Once upon a time, Don McLean
Sang about the Day the Music Died
This year, to me, it seems,
Is the YEAR the artists died.

So many sad losses, one after another,
And on a personal note, we lost my mother.
Is there a plot out there to smother
Creativity?  Big Brother?

We will survive this year, I hope
Without losing anyone else so dear,
I don't know if I could cope
And despair is what I fear.



The Payoff
By C.K.Armistead
4/23/16

Now all the hard work
Of mowing and weeding
Is done.
We can relax
And maybe have
A little fun.
Sitting with a drink in hand
Surveying the beauty
Our efforts command.



Beware
By C.K.Armistead
4/25/16

The clouds are massing
To the Southwest
The teams are out tracking
The weather's brewing a mess.
Let us pray with all our might
That the Tornado monsters
Pass us by tonight.
With the ice balls they fling
And their terrible teeth
They destroy everything
That falls beneath.
This is one little town
That's had more than it's share
Of toothy tornadoes
And ice-ball filled air.
We've seen this misery all before
So tornadoes, just take yourselves
Right away from Moore.


Muses
By C.K.Armistead
4/25/16

Whimsical and inconsistent,
Oh, wordy spirits,
Hear my complaint!
You lead me on
Keep me awake all night,
Only to vanish
When I need you,
When I have time to write.
All night I hear poems,
Or clever dialog,
Interesting plot diversions,
But by morning, they are gone.
Trying to write them down at night
Is worse than trying to catch a sprite.
Whenever paper, pencil  or screen are close by
Those beautiful words and images fly.
And will not return until once more
I lie trying to sleep and listening
To my husband snore.

Calm Restored
By C.K. Armistead
4/26/16

The noisy meteorological show
Has finished it's bluster,
Gone somewhere else to rumble and blow.
And I  have my tidy world again
Where all is well and safe
Where nothing can harm
Or scare me
My happy place.
For you are here,
Your arms enfold me
There is no fear
When you hold me.


Happy Birthday, Mom
By C.K.Armistead
4/27/16

You aren't here anymore
Where I can send you things
Or call you up and say
I hope your day was wonderful
And I love you.
So,
Happy Birthday, Mom,
I miss you.
I survived another round of
Bad weather last night
Matt's doing well,
He sends his love.
I got to spend time with
Amy and her little girl
The last time I was
Back in California.
They are both well,
 And Amy's husband
Is a good man.
I went out there
To say goodbye to you
And to see where you and Pop
Are remembered formally
Upon this earth.
The place looks nice, all the trees
Are bigger, LOTS bigger than when
We said goodbye to Pop.
Not so easy to see downtown
From there anymore.
But the wind whispers stories
Through those trees,
And I bet Pop would love the place.
Mostly,
You are both remembered and loved
In our hearts,
All four of us,
and anyone else who ever knew you.
I miss you both,
And I hope you are together,
Because someday,
I want to see you both again.
And I hope you'll be proud of me
Of all I am,
Of all I have done,
Even though it isn't for wealth or fame,
I have made lives better.
I DO make lives better,
One little bit at a time,
Every day,
Every time I go to work.
Sometimes in a very quiet way,
A lot like you did.
I learned a lot about
How to be kind
From you.
I really miss you,  Mommy-Mo.


Sleep
By C.K. Armistead
4/28/16

Thou elusive sprite,
I'll catch thee yet!
My eyes shut tight,
The bedclothes my net.
Even though you do scorn
My company,
Long afore morn,
Mine ye shall be!
Leave off the aches that plague
Leave off the sniffling nose
I must fatigue assuage,
Before sanity goes.
Quiet,  thou clacking brain,
And peace, ye racing thoughts,
Let peaceful calm remain
And let sweet sleep be caught.



Escape
By C. K. Armistead
4/29/16

When reality is just a bit too much
I find a better place to look
For comfort, distraction, and such
I simply sit and read a book.
Doesn't have to be the paper kind,
Even though those are very nice
If it's electronic, I don't mind,
As long as there's power for the device.
Sometimes, I find myself dreaming
And making up my own tales
Instead of just reading,
Against harsh reality, writing prevails.
I crawl into my cozy world
And visit with old friends
Until my ennui is cured
And I can face life once again.


Seeking Sanctuary
(A poem based on Beauty and the Beast 1987)
By C.K. Armistead
4/26/16, edited 4/29/16

Catherine's thoughts one stormy night:

How I wish I  could go Below tonight. 

The wind is high,

The clouds are ripe, 

There's going to be

A storm up here.

I wish I could be 

Where candle flame

Glows cheerily

And everyone knows my name.

I wish I could go there

To my safest place where

I'll come to no harm 

When I  see his face

And rest in the safety

Of his arms.

Old Friends
By C.K.Armistead
4/30/16

I stumbled across an old friend today
An old TV show I used to love
When I was very young
And full of dreams.
This show, I should say,
Is not something girls are "supposed"
To have liked
In that era, when I was young.
It involved rockets and space ships
And rescues
And I am sure far more boys watched it.
But I adored it.
Never did I feel I could not
Be one of the daring crew
That went out and saved
People in need.
Not that I WANTED to,
But I felt I could have.
I just adored the machines
And the things they could do.
These old friends reminded me
Of a couple of other
Favorites.
One that I never let go of
And another I had almost forgotten.
One was a giant robot
Controlled by a young boy
The other was the crew of a Starship
Whose adventures I've followed
Forever after.
Because they made me dream
Gave me hope
Made me wonder how
We could get to a world
That much better than this one.
Yep. I was a geeky fangirl
LONG before it was cool.

Further Lenten Ruminations

2/28/16

This was written on my tablet during the sermon, right after Mother Susan almost mentioned the Holy Ghost in a scripture where it was not, in fact, mentioned.  We all had a tiny giggle about it.

O Holy Spirit,
Who even in this
Solemn Season
Of Lent
Does still make
Thy Presence known
With bubbling laughter
And with joy.

So words are just images
 for something far too large
 to tame or make subject
 to our inadequate imaginations.
All things in us that are good,
or useful
or in any way noble
are gifts of that joyful Spirit
Who moves where it will,
and blows joy and gifts of
understanding, mercy,
patience, and love
Into our very souls
If we will but receive them
To do the good works
The Spirit may inspire
Does give our very hearts
Strength.
They heal us, they give us
Yet more strength
To do yet more good
In this world.


2/29/16

Leap Day-
Leap of faith
Leap only after looking
Leap ahead,
Leapin' Lizards!

Didn't much want to muse on poetry this weekend, or today, really.
There is a story about the day I was born that they used to tell me, so I'd like to record it.
Better a few days late than never.

On the day I was born, my Mom had a regular appointment with her obstetrician.  Since it was in the afternoon, my sister (13 at the time) went with her to help navigate.  (Mom, we used to joke, could get lost in the back yard.)  While at the appointment, the doctor informed her that she was in the very early stages of labor, and given that she was 36 (old to be having babies in those days), he wanted to take her to the hospital ASAP.
So, here's my 13 year old sister in the waiting room, having to get hold of Pop (no cell phones then) and have him come get them and take Mom to the hospital and her home.  (Nobody under 18 allowed in Maternity waiting areas in those days.)  Then, of course, Pop had to go back to the hospital.  I don't know how they worked it out, perhaps our neighbor picked Pop up at work and took him to meet them at the doctor's office, and then took my sister home, I really don't know.
Must've been an interesting day for my family.
Evidently, I got stuck, and the doctor had to use forceps to get me out - I wasn't born until after 10 pm that night. Poor Mom.  Both of us came through all right, though.
Ha!  I've been an inconvenience to my family from the very beginning!


The very air holds magic, mystery, foreboding-
It is ripe with the tension of the coming storm.

Soon the lightning rips apart the sky
And the thunder roars at us
Like Doom itself
But quite often, this sound and fury
Doesn't mean much.
Not even much rain.
For all the portents
In the air.

3/1/16

And again, a blank page
The reading I was to do
Was not something I wanted
Today.
Today is hustle and bustle
Even though it's Tuesday -
Not Monday.
Still running all over
Too much to do
And never enough time.

Lots done,
But not everything
Never everything
The list looms
Eternally incomplete


3/2/16

More hurry and hope I got everything needful done.  Last week was a blessing- a week out of time to do with as I wished - pretty much.
This week is back to obligations and schedules and wondering how on earth I ever
Had room in my head
For abstract thoughts
For images and dreams
When this all too concrete world
It seems
Is SO much with me.


A flash, a blink, caught in the corner of my eye
A flicker, and rumble,
And light tears apart the sky.
All's dry until
I get closer to home,
And then I notice the wet pavement
The occasional drop on the windshield
The calling cards of an early Spring storm.




3/6/16


On the 3rd, 4th, and 5th, I did not manage to get any writing done.  I was off on the 3rd, we had a concert to attend that evening, so I took my comp day for Saturday, worked ALL DAY Friday to have enough hours, and then on Saturday, worked from 1 to 5, after having spent the better part of the morning cleaning the house.  We had friends over, and so, there was no time to sit and write.



This day,
The wind blew
It blew clouds and
Shadows
All over town.
No rain or storms for us
Not today.
Just lost of wind
Loud,
Mournful,
Anguished, even.
Tugging at every
Loose item in the neighborhood.
Wanting our attention
Trying to tell us something.


Achy and weary
In every joint
But happy.
Worked hard
Got a lot done.
Ate well, but healthily.
There is work of the mind
To be done.
A story to tell
A story to share
But not yet.
It is still in the process
Of becoming.
Much planning,
Polishing,
And hoping
Yet to be done.
And my cozy bed
Looks far too tempting
On this night
When the wind
Continues to howl
Like a predator
On the prowl.

Poetry Has Happened Again...

Stubborn Love

By C.K. Armistead

May 2015

And what am I

That thou shouldst

Love me?

What worth hast

Thou seen

That none other can?

Why do you forgive my faults

When I insist

On counting them,

Wearing their number

Like a badge of

Dishonor

Proving that I

Am worthless?

Why dost thou love?

And with such persistence!

I know myself to be

Unworthy.

But oh, I treasure

That love of thine.

Hoarding

By C.K. Armistead

May 2015

And so I put

The three small pieces

Of chocolate

Back into the bag.

Extra saved for

Another day.

Instead of a splurge

For today.

I never wanted to become

This careful person,

This hoarder of today’s

Good things

Against tomorrow’s scarcity.

For there’s no guarantee

Of tomorrow.

And when did I become

This way

With my love?

Hoarding the one thing

That grows

If you give it away?

All I have done

Is impoverish my todays.

And my joys,

I try to hoard those

As well.

But joy unshared

Festers in storage

And begins to reek.

My solitary nature

Is averse to all

The good things I seek.

Amber

By C.K. Armistead

May 2015

O frozen blood

Of ancient tree,

Held in the thrall

Of time for me

The fire trapped

In thy soft stone

A future mapped,

Retold by a crone

In thy occluded heart

Memories of the past

Are safely caught

And held fast

O frozen tears

Of Earth's lost art,

Even after thousands of years,

Your beauty warms my heart.

I  have felt like I'm just marking time lately.  The arrival of finished poems on the page helps.  The fact that I have actually accomplished some things I set out to do today helps.  It is indeed a good thing that life comes to us one day at a time.  I must remember that when I get overwhelmed by what I must do, must deal with.  

Thursday Night At The Library is over for another week, and tomorrow's FRIDAY!!!  

Life is indeed good.