Robyn O'Flaithfhileadh

Enewetak Atoll

2011-09-28T14:27:00.001-04:00

Enewetak atoll is a low-lying coral atoll located in the northwestern corner of the Marshall Islands, approximately 600 miles from the capital, Majuro. The atoll consists of about 40 islands surrounding a lagoon of about 388 square miles. In February, 1944, U.S. troops captured Enewetak from the Japanese. In July, 1947, Micronesia became a United Nations strategic trust territory administered by the United States. In June of 1946, the U.S. began the conduct of the United States Nuclear Testing Program in the northern Marshall Islands. In December, 1947, the people of Enewetak were removed from Enewetak Atoll and transported to Ujelang Atoll. Representatives of the U.S. government represented to the people that the relocation would be temporary, in the likely time frame of three to five years, at which time they could return to Enewetak. At the time of removal, the acreage of the atoll was 1,919.49 acres. During the people's absence, forty-three atomic devices were tested at Enewetak. On October 1, 1980, the claimants returned to Enewetak. At that time, 815.33 acres were returned to their use. Another 949.8 acres were not available for use, and an additional 154.36 acres had been vaporized.

Betsy & Robyn

2011-09-02T09:41:00.001-04:00

Whetstone Arts building on Whetstone Brook

2011-08-31T13:35:00.002-04:00

2011-08-31T09:00:00.001-04:00

3.
"Down To The River To Pray"

As I went down in the river to pray
Studying about that good old way
And who shall wear the starry crown
Good Lord, show me the way !

O sisters let's go down,
Let's go down, come on down,
O sisters let's go down,
Down in the river to pray.

As I went down in the river to pray
Studying about that good old way
And who shall wear the robe and crown
Good Lord, show me the way !

O brothers let's go down,
Let's go down, come on down,
Come on brothers let's go down,
Down in the river to pray.

As I went down in the river to pray
Studying about that good old way
And who shall wear the starry crown
Good Lord, show me the way !

O fathers let's go down,
Let's go down, come on down,
O fathers let's go down,
Down in the river to pray.

As I went down in the river to pray
Studying about that good old way
And who shall wear the robe and crown
Good Lord, show me the way !

O mothers, let's go down,
Let's go down, don't you want to go down,
Come on mothers let's go down,
Down in the river to pray.

As I went down in the river to pray
Studying about that good old way
And who shall wear the starry crown
Good Lord, show me the way !

O sinners let's go down,
Let's go down, come on down,
O sinners let's go down,
Down in the river to pray.

As I went down in the river to pray
Studying about that good old way
And who shall wear the robe and crown
Good Lord, show me the way !

2011-08-31T08:05:00.002-04:00

2.
I have always loved a good storm. My first stop on the computer every morning is Weather Underground. There are a few of weatherophiles in town and everyday I try to check in with them about the hottest topic. Lately that has been Houston, Texas, and I do mean hot. My skin goes to goosebumps when we talk about a weather happening. Well this weekend there was such a happening and Irene made her way to my door.

Brattleboro flooding from Irene 8/28/11

2011-08-31T07:30:00.002-04:00

1.
My time line is all jumbled up from trauma. I remember it started to rain. We watched over one hundred Nighthawks attempt to migrate Saturday night. Nighthawks are a delicate part of our ecosystem. I rarely see more than a few dozen migrating yearly. The interesting thing is they did not fly into the storm but took a sharp right turn. I felt a flutter of hope.
Hurricane Irene's eye was threatening to pass through the heart of our little town. Yes it rained, a fine mist all night and by daybreak the rain came in waves from her outer bands. The song of rain went from music to menacing and yet we really had no clue of what was come.

you are now dust~

2011-08-16T20:39:00.001-04:00

The flavor of grief, an essence of melancholy drifts through my being~we are on the doorstep of Fall. A time of natural death and slumber. I look forward to the long night of dreams. Last night I dreamed I was curled into a fetal position and whimpering, then you consoled me. you who is now only in spirit, and all too suddenly out of your body. A violent act. you comforted me.
A wisp of smokey lavender dances though the room tonight and tomorrow you will be celebrated. I might or might not find closure.
I have read that a violent death is much harder to grieve. There are so many of us to work this one through, such a public death in the heart of our community.
for a moment I felt better having written this~then grief followed on the heels of relief. Oh dear-

Brattleboro Food Coop 2011

2011-08-13T18:34:00.002-04:00

I am still searching for solid ground. Floating in an a sea of sadness. No sense to what happened, no reason can calm the storm of emotions. I don't search for the mind or the emotions or the personality to make this okay. It seems to be within the realm of soul, of spirit I see one man free and the other in chains. I am pierced through the heart with love for my friends.
Today I spoke of this violence, touched my own wound, less than yesterday. Each day I grow into who I am becoming. I am changed. We are all changed. Our ground for tomorrow will be waiting for us in the future. I am here now riding the wave of today. Breath to bone: Transformed.

2010-11-21T09:52:00.004-05:00

I have been holding things apart
to keep them together.

Ambien Lucid Dreaming

2010-08-09T16:31:00.000-04:00

Ambien Lucid Dream #2

2010-08-09T16:19:00.000-04:00

Rain Danced Tanka

2010-07-10T15:21:00.003-04:00

Rain Danced

Gray sky pressing down.
Soft rain drops danced on dry leaves.
Cat's purr under paw.
Bird songs stilled as we get wet.
Umbrella turned upside down.

2010-05-03T07:14:00.002-04:00

Tanka's Reflection

Morning's pale light spills.
White window sill tinted blue.
Birds sing up the sun.
Illumination within.
Self-doubt casts a dark shadow.

Flame Wars

2010-01-17T08:18:00.005-05:00

mean has four letters-
just a word
I move around.
a razor rock in a river
of emotion.
a tar pit.

rules of the war-game varied
only certain people could embody mean.
drawing blood signaled
the opponent could close in.

I imagined a gasp
from the silent witness

words did kill.

Robyn O'
this is dedicated to all those who work for Peace

Look what happened to my eye

2010-01-10T13:27:00.002-05:00

2010

2010-01-08T07:23:00.002-05:00

This image was created to envision the coming year 2010. Not sure what it means yet. I did not do this process with intention. I might need to revisit the process. Mercury retrograde...

2009-12-16T14:51:00.005-05:00

Love prose poem in brown

1.
Ed worked construction all of his life. During this deep dig the back hoe machine teetered awkwardly as it raked it's teeth across the chocolate brown earth. The rest of the crew stood on the edges of the crater as the machine’s bucket scrapped and revealed the old metal pipe. Ed was struck by an electrical jolt. He didn’t move. The machine reached to pull him out of the pit. Ed looked flushed as his hand touched the machine. They froze in that position. Both the machine and Ed died that day. Ed with a smile on his face.
2.
Ed found the great vein of oil bleed out. He tenderly felt for a pulse. Ancient blood from bodies older than himself had been spent. Wars were raging over this precious black gold. Ed chained the beast and as he turned to leave the freshly dug pit a mechanical tendril reached out and pulled him under. Ed's blood mixed with oil and a cheer rang out from all the oil rigs, holding tanks and sucking machines that crisscrossed over and penetrated through the earth.
3.
Ed loved the bucket. He had danced around the metal claw for days. Ed's wife observed that he couldn't contain himself. He had climbed out of the earthen pit and touched the bucket gently. His wife fainted, the children shrieked. The bucket held very still as Ed fell back and the earth opened up. He was swallowed and swallowing brown. Ed woke up from a dream with the color brown was all around. He could barely breathe as his hand touched the bucket.
4.
"I want to touch the bucket!". Ed usually kept his thoughts to himself. "I want to touch you," he yelled. Everyone turned and stared. I happened to be there and wondered if he was losing his mind. He yelled another plea. The bucket arched out in response. Ed and the metal bucket touched and I must say I was moved. Well, I fell into the pit and landed at Ed's feet. I hung on and experienced the love, the devotion, the elation. We were all one, we are all one. united at last.
5.
I am the earth that had been undisturbed for 100 years till Ed and the bucket arrived. Within my chocolate brown secret was love. A love that would wound anyone who pierced my skin. I was holding this electric love till they both arrived and after the bucket had emptied my soiled heart I let them have it. Yea, all the energy was waiting for this moment to fly.

I miss you Hope

2009-09-13T17:08:00.002-04:00

I miss you my dear Hope.

Astrology for September

2009-09-07T06:17:00.002-04:00

Sue Miller seems to be quite accurate for me. Everything dealing with home right now is a struggle that I must move through. Hope you check this out.

http://astrologyzone.com/

Your toughest week will be the eight days that follow September 15. Everyone, of every sign, will be in the same boat, for within a very short time, the universe will send every possible challenge it can throw at us.

men walking outside our window

2009-09-03T08:26:00.003-04:00

Yes, you guessed it, men walking on the outside of our window. We have had our building wrapped in scaffolding all summer. In this picture they are taking down the structure, very scary to watch.

my first day of retirement

2009-09-03T08:16:00.003-04:00

We had only an extreme noise warning that this destruction was coming on Tuesday morning. When I stepped out of my apartment the guy on the ladder was blocking the door. Honestly I felt like I was in a movie. I rushed to get a camera and right after this shot was taken the battery in the camera died. And so the first tension filled day of my retirement began.

I'm feeling lazy

2009-07-31T17:35:00.003-04:00

I want to thank my hands for 17 years of service. They often worked steadfastly side by side sharing the load. On the left we have the dominant hand but that hand refuses to take any unearned praise from the right hand. They are not a fidgeting, nervous or jealous pair, they have been seen folded into each other during long meetings.
I honor them highly for their handy work: cleaning, clapping, stickering, stamping, fronting, hand wringing, hand writing, hand stamping, hand holding, nail clicking, nail biting, finger wagging, shelf tagging, punch the clock, place the product, pick up the phone, paddy cake...?
They both were my best friends and assisted me when I was too tired to think. My hands agree it’s time to kick up my feet and unleash the un-heeled dogs to reveal their shinning happy soles.
Robyn Flatley

“Daddy’s in the hospital”

2009-06-20T18:04:00.000-04:00

Mommy’s in the kitchen baking up a storm. The oven is red hot. Her sweat sizzles on the stove top. “Does Daddy like hot cross bums?” I whimpered. “Sweetheart get me the honey!” Big sister grabbed a honey bear laced with ants. I sneezed. Mommy’s in the kitchen and Daddy’s in the hospital waiting for a doctor. My sister flicked an ant at me. Daddy’s doctor is in the kitchen kissing mommy on the mouth. I sneezed louder. Why is Grandma in the kitchen making baked potatoes? They smell yummy but where is mummy?

Plum Island morning 2009

2009-05-26T15:28:00.002-04:00

Plum Island 2009

2009-05-25T08:11:00.004-04:00

My new love

2009-05-09T16:42:00.003-04:00

okay this really cute Kill Bill, ahem, killdeer was romancing me. HOnestly- didn't know if it was a male or female. For those of you who are squeamish about the girl on girl thing you may need to avert your eyes- and close your minds too. I know that's a heavy burden but I will post pictures of the love that did transpire.
while I was in a love trance there were some fucking bugs taking an ounce of flesh from my leg. I have a huge bruise and a terrible rash to prove it. I pulled up my pant legs and dozens of little black thingys fell down into the mud. but I gotta say the love that was witnessed by me was worth all the terror and illness I must go through-christ please don't let it be Lymes disease...please.
I've got clay on the wound and my heart belongs to the Killdeer. Paul got jealous, that's how hot and heavy it got.

Short cut to hell

2009-03-16T17:18:00.001-04:00

Short cut to hell

I hang on
a silver thread
my squeaky inhale
tweaky knee
gimpy hip
body trip

speaking of that, I took a short cut to work and as my right hand held the wobbly rail my foot slipped on a wedge of ice. wrenched my arm and bruised my kidney as my body slammed into the edge of the cement sidewalk. frick! hell of a short cut.

Eagle cloud

2009-03-07T21:28:00.000-05:00

Broken Spring

2009-02-26T08:07:00.001-05:00

oh the wind is keening
howling in my bones
screaming all night long

oh my heart is breaking
muscle and blood pumped
an aching in my breast

oh my tears are running
salty rivers filled with pain
a muted cry within me now

yea a few pounds of bones
feathers that once were proud
her call an inner echo

New Hampshire Eagles 2.21.09

2009-02-22T09:56:00.006-05:00

So where is the female eagle? She was not spotted today, Sunday Feb. 22. The male was seen near the Vernon Dam. Is she all right or has she succumbed to her injury?
In this photo there are three eagles in the trees. They appear as dots: the larger dot on the left is an immature (could be this pair's offspring) and on the right are the pair of eagles. Wish I could have gotten a better photo. Right after I took this photo the mature eagles joined the immature and the female made quite a ruckus as she tried to land on the branch. The male landed on a lower branch and sidled over toward the immature. Shortly after the immature eagle flew away.

Our female looks ragged and injured while the male looks at her with what looks like concern. He has been a faithful bird: staying by her side.
I have great hopes that she will recover.

Inspired by my dear sister Betsy

2009-02-16T20:22:00.001-05:00

“All judgment reveals itself to be self-judgement in the end, and when this is understood a larger comprehension of the nature of life takes its place.”
Dr. David Hawkins

Winter Wind warning

2009-02-12T22:53:00.001-05:00

Old Man winter's
Breath, held frozen
Was let loose

Cumulonimbus mamma
Ran over mountains
To the east

Altostratus translucidus
Low and sexy
Rubbed mamma

Fully exhausted
The old man
Inhaled

livingroom blurrrrrrrrrrr

2009-02-08T18:18:00.002-05:00

another sleepless night of art and glass

2009-02-08T18:09:00.001-05:00

Eighth Vigil

2009-02-03T09:44:00.000-05:00

Eighth Vigil

Quietly I honor ‘Himself’
both our hearts broken;

dad’s beloved wife
cast him out at death

my beloved mother
cast out me at birth

her madness began with my first breath
she sunk into a schizoid delusion after his last

he begged to come home to die
gone were his home and daughters

mom held in lock down ward
whispering to her voices about dad

his lungs filled, heart seized
I keened

my saint
of St. Valentines Day

Dad's St Valentines day death

2009-02-02T23:30:00.000-05:00

every year
since my father died
I hold in my heart
a quiet vigil of his
broken heart, he died
as his beloved wife cast his memory
into the dust, she had moved on
sinking into a schizoid delusion
of glamor, fame and honor
he waited till the very breath in his body gave up
lungs filled and heart seized
we, his five daughters wailed
I keened loudly
my heart broken
as well by that woman
my mother,
I hold him sacred
my saint of St. Valentines day

Winter

2009-01-31T21:52:00.001-05:00

Winter of 2009

2009-01-31T21:43:00.001-05:00

Fire under Wolf Moon

2009-01-11T20:15:00.002-05:00

The L-Block burns

Stepping up to an emotional tension, I've stretched myself thin.

The night of the blaze I walked streets filled with slush, a steady stream of water, and ice. The police cars strobed till I thought I might have a seizure. Fire and ice.. wasn't that in the bible? Vapor clouds of cremated cats, lead paint, baseball cards mixed with baby's clothes drifted by. We inhaled memories. Tired firemen decked in heavy suits and oxygen tanks climbed up slippery ladders into pink smoke.

One tiny wrapped cylinder of tobacco.

I rose and my heart shuddered with adrenaline remembering how fire, as barbed cat tongues, licked us clean.

We come in naked and by god we go out the same.

wave nymphs ride

2008-10-25T14:48:00.001-04:00

gale winds and water two of my favorite elements.

Wave mania on Cape Ann

2008-10-24T20:43:00.004-04:00

During our vacation there was a huge low off the coast of Cape Ann, Massachusetts. The thunder of fifteen foot waves rocked our world.
The two shadows on the rocks are- you guessed it!

Night of Pink Glass & Light

2008-10-03T16:47:00.001-04:00

Night of Glass & Light

2008-10-03T16:45:00.002-04:00

my granddaughters

2008-08-08T22:56:00.002-04:00

my hair

2008-07-11T08:46:00.001-04:00

searching for a home

2008-06-24T23:37:00.001-04:00

I've been searching for a home I can call my own.

Plum Island waves 2008

2008-05-23T21:41:00.003-04:00

Storm low off the coast created six to ten foot waves.

Plum Island beach 2008

2008-05-20T10:20:00.006-04:00

my cheeks burned
of halo glow
I love you
of that I know

Photo from our trip to Plum Island, Ma. One of the warbler boardwalks is named Hellcat. Every morning we made haste to Hellcat. In total we saw 98 species of birds.

I took a class on bird banding and watched as a Common Yellow Throat was delicately untangled from a mist net. My group observed the handling, measuring of wings, breast checking for fat, metal banding and then the release of the tiny warbler. I kept wondering if I would be uncomfortable with this type of handling from a another species/entity.

We drove to the end of the island and walked the beach- a Plover was sending out an alarm call as she circled her nesting area. We kept our distance but with the aid of binoculars we got to see her digging in the sand and possibly depositing eggs.

Our shadows lay
within the night
small white feathers fell gently
from our invention
wings of wax, string and molted bits
divinity chose us
after the dazzling play of light
we became, become, becoming
neatly folded into one

http://www.parkerriver.org/

Every year during the migration of birds, especially warblers, we take our vacation on or near Plum Island. Last year we saw over 120 birds- so you see this year the count was down. This year we stayed for 10 days- which is absolutely the longest we have done yet. I would like to work ourselves up to a month. I may have to wait till my retirement. During this time we live, eat, dream and follow the winged ones.
This year there where two storms that created huge wind gusts and large waves. So the birds hunkered down or didn't fly in. They fly with a south wind and mostly at night. We were blessed with a few days of warblers: Black-throated Blue, Black-throated Green, Magnolia, Northern Parula, Yellow, Yellow-rump,Chestnut-sided, Black-and-white, and American Redstart.

reality poetry

2008-05-03T12:26:00.012-04:00

Vt. mother evades rescuers, and 3 die

Rescuers use poles to look under rocks and in hidden pockets in the Wardsboro Brook in Wardsboro, Vt. Sunday April 13, 2008 during the search for Grace Waring, 2, who disappeared with her Mother Nicole Waring, 40, of Wolcott, Vt. and sibling Dakota, 6, Saturday. The bodies of Nicole and Dakota were found in the Wardsboro Brook, Saturday, after Nicole jumped into the water when approached by a Vermont State Trooper. Rescue agencies from throughout Vermont were actively involved in the search. (AP Photo/Jason R. Henske)
~~~

mommy
I lost my shoes
my toes are cold
I'm tired
sing me a lullaby
monster undertoad
is hungry
he pulls my feet
mommy
my legs hurt
I'm afraid
mommy
I spy baby Grace
rolling away
look mommy
my eyes are open
under water
~~~
In the wee hours
of mourning
daddy embraced
baby clothes
~~~

Friday, April 18
JAMAICA -- A Wardsboro man who capsized his kayak in the West River Thursday afternoon is still missing after several hours of searching by authorities.
Rescue workers search for...
David Holcomb, 24, was kayaking on the river with Matt St. Peter when both their kayaks capsized after leaving the Jamaica State Park, according to a press release from Detective Lt. Kraig LaPorte with the State Police.

The Jamaica Fire Department responded to a report of a person in the West River north of the French Bridge on Gilfeather Road at approximately 4 p.m. Search efforts were soon initiated by the fire departments of Wardsboro, Townsend and Brattleboro and Rescue Inc.

The search efforts were concentrated on the section of the river from the location where the victim was last seen in West Townshend, according to LaPorte. At roughly 8:30 p.m., authorities suspended the search efforts on account of darkness.

State troopers continued to conduct patrols along the river area throughout the night and into the early morning, when formal search efforts will resume.

After their kayaks overturned, the two men became separated from their kayaks and began floating down the river. According to the police

report, St. Peter eventually lost sight of Holcomb, whose kayak was found two miles south of the Volunteer Bridge toward Wardsboro.
St. Peter was able to work his way to the river's edge and climb out of the water with only minor injuries from contact with debris in the river. Sources at the scene said St. Peter had cuts on his chest and was offered medical assistance.

Troopers patrolling the area came across St. Peter walking along the south end of the river bank.

According to the release, neither was wearing a lifejacket during the incident, however each had one in his kayak.
~~~
I tucked my life jacket
held the paddle steady
foamy water rose
while river, my love,
embraced me
~~~

silence
breath held out
sewing needles
dart off the darn water
my brow knits
I inhale
pine needle's
hot perfume

exquisite beauty
stings my eyes
~~~
I am the rock
singing all night
with water's rising song

I gave you shelter
your delicate fingers
pressed into my folds

a moment's rest

I watched you taken
by river's flow
as water gave you
one last drink
~~~
your blond hair matted
half moon smile
frozen
river's wake takes you
I follow
we lay
on the small round rocks
breathless
~~~
Police investigating body found floating in West River
Reformer Staff

Saturday, May 3
BRATTLEBORO -- Brattleboro Police are investigating the death of a white male pulled out of the West River Friday afternoon.

The Brattleboro Fire Department's Dive Team was on scene and pulled the body out of the water, as the rain began to fall, after a preliminary investigation from the Police Department and the State's Attorney's Office.

"The body was very close to shore, in approximately 21/2 feet of water," Fire Chief Mike Bucossi said.

Two firefighters put on cold water exposure suits to retrieve the body, following directions from the Police Department and State's Attorney's office to remove him without disrupting any evidence.

Detectives placed evidence flags along the path, leading to the water, between the Veteran's Bridge and the railroad bridge, taking photos.

The man, whom police would not identify until the family was notified, was brought to the Burlington medical examiner by Ker-Westerlund & Fleming Funeral Home.

Workers at the scene refused to comment, directing all queries to Acting Police Chief Gene Wrinn.

"It's an active investigation," Wrinn said. "There are no obvious signs of foul play, but the white male is being
transported for an autopsy."

He expected to release more information Monday.

~~~
Spring’s River Revenge

Did you rumble
down the river-
tumble over the
dam,
water logged
swollen
sullen

an afternoon's lark
of picking until dark-
fiddle heads delight
then nothing went right
river's tongue snapped
saliva’s foam lapped

Did you rumble
down the river-
tumble over the
dam,
water logged
swollen
sullen

fiddle heads pressed tight
into frozen hands all night
one hundred miles North
family searched forth
upon friday’s frightening sight
you bobbed in afternoon daylight

Did you rumble
down the river-
tumble over the
dam,
water logged
swollen
sullen

white male found
keening wail went round

still the chocolate river yawns
over yellow waving lawns
~~~

Search for Missing Kayaker Suspended

Bradford, Vermont - May 2, 2008

Poor water conditions mean that authorities in Vermont and New Hampshire temporarily suspended the search a missing kayaker in the Connecticut River.

Robert Swantak, 58, of Bradford, set out Thursday to pick fiddleheads along the river's edge but he never returned. Authorities spent most of the day Friday searching the Bugbee Boat Launch in Bradford where Swantak first put in. The Bugbee launch is on the Waits River which feeds into the Connecticut. Swantak's kayak was found on the Connecticut River about four miles downstream. It was overturned with a life jacket attached to it.

"Concentrations would be with the currents that we had (Thursday), would be where the Waits River meets the Connecticut River as well as had he been able to get any distance up the Connecticut River trying to cross from the Vermont side to his destination on the New Hampshire shoreline," explained N.H. Fish & Game Lt. Todd Bogardus.

Authorities say that the river is at flood stage and is just 46 degrees. Swantak is an experienced kayaker but not a very good swimmer.

2008-03-31T20:32:00.000-04:00

even curbs in a storm can inspire Fine Art. Just being cheeky.

Coop Easter Break in

2008-03-25T10:33:00.004-04:00

Raining all day and flooding and...weather

2008-03-08T18:13:00.001-05:00

Winter's Spring break

2008-02-23T07:58:00.000-05:00

2008~1981

2008-01-31T00:30:00.001-05:00

Of fated party born

2008-01-10T12:45:00.000-05:00

Right from the start
ole Bob gifted his heart
but Peg’s wealth gave him pause
er his pride be the cause
rather humble his birth
twas meager his girth

love's first glance he did tumble
oh but no gift was the stumble
verily her gaiety waited
every hour past was fated
simply broken he dreaded

Peg’s patience being shredded
ending my sonnet I disparage
given I was born of this marriage

~~~

(((This 14 line sonnet for a Valentines day contest reads first letter down:
Robert loves Peg)))

Robyn

River

2007-12-23T08:26:00.000-05:00

today at the River

2007-12-22T21:21:00.000-05:00

Dream Truck

2007-12-08T10:54:00.000-05:00

so much to think about tonight

2007-12-04T23:16:00.000-05:00

Chee

2007-12-01T09:03:00.000-05:00

I am growing in my ability to put together photos and play on the computer- this begs for your feedback.

Guess what this is~

2007-11-23T12:03:00.000-05:00

First snow 2007

2007-11-20T21:31:00.000-05:00

been feeling moody

2007-11-19T21:26:00.000-05:00

what do you think of this image?

2007-11-18T23:19:00.000-05:00

photo

2007-10-31T22:45:00.001-04:00

Tina and Bethany we are still looking for you

2007-10-27T21:59:00.000-04:00

This is a poem after six years of searching for the bodies of Tina and Bethany Sinclair. Mother and daughter disappeared one night after a fight with the mother's boyfriend. Recently the boyfriend had been released from prison. He had been convicted for molestation of his daughter. These days he restlessly rides our roads again.
I have participated in searches for the last six years. The family would like to have closure.
We gathered this morning under a rain drenched gray tarp and ate donuts and pizza...waiting for something to unfold, maybe a miracle.

I rose at dawn
from red wrinkled sheets
unfolding my thoughts
from dreams
of cold streams

morning mountain search
heart sick from wondering
how to find
of their bodies

tobacco silky snake
slithered into my nostrils
chatter of eyebrow prices
hair highlighting accent
we waited

mourning mountain search
heart struck from wandering
looking for pieces
of their bodies

pandemonium over the perpetrator
riding his truck
too close to their memorial
an inward scream escapes
psychically thrashing

mourning mama sinks
her teeth into donuts
looking for places
to rest from their deaths

windy day
weeping seeping water
trees scratch the sky
till it’s bloodless
my eyes search the grass
a bit of bone or hair

mountain moving mama
sweet Tina
give us a tell, a hint
six years and still looking

mummy oh mummy

2007-10-10T23:27:00.001-04:00

why pretend
to love me

I still hate you
wish it could change

ghosts scurry past
my angry energy

why pretend
to love you

yes you were sick
I know that so well

but why do I need
to excuse

you were so cruel
touch, word, look

I withered
power was yours

now you are dead
power is mine

wish I could be kind
to your memory

Elephant alas

2007-10-04T18:38:00.000-04:00

1.
a strange tale I tell to thee
pray you pull up a chair and see
how in ancient times a fable came to pass
wild story of an elephant and a lass
marriage of man and beast
please come and join in the feast

2.
How did the elephant-god grow inside this one?
many noble men came and had their fun,
leaving slippery seeds tucked deep inside
to celebrate their human bride
but elephants in blue and gray
came stealthily into the fray

3.
elephants all night and day
with noses long that sure did sway
a quilt of wrinkled skin and toes
a path of peanut shells, god knows
elephants did duck and dart
while dancing into her heart

4.
when her babe was due be born
at four a.m. she was shorn
prayed Ganesh a solemn vow
help me to embrace this creature now
huge crowds gathered outside to see
the dazzling birth, at once, of thee

5.
dawn bled a crimson light
causing everyone a terrible fright
drunken men that had appeared quite tame
were wild and then became inhumane
elephants in blue and tan
were lurking close at hand

6.
bellowed through his long pink nose
burst her bedroom door with that hose
the crowd swelled and a few did jeer
many still toasting with a beer
elephants quite bold did dare
gallop upon the peopled square

7.
a hush descended over the air
baby rose from his birth chair
man and beast stood eye to ear
then came the stink of human fear
elephants in blue and red
where weeping tears of dread

8.
all were kneeling with their heads bowed low
two a breast in a neat long row
baby’s pink trunk wrapped round his mother’s waist
he suckled with a lusty haste
the evening star was drawing near
bawdy songs broke out for more beer

9.
my tale of course has a darker side
humans trampled when they tried to ride
the pink elephants that did appear
when finally consumed was all the beer
mourning elephants in black and gray
filed out of town in terribly quiet way

10.
by noon the troops had rallied
guns and bombs and fear were tallied
through the town the church bells rang
songs of beer no longer sang
“I knew they’d kill us!” they did chant
mother’s ears burned to hear such a rant

11.
drums began to beat
the sun turned up the heat
a thousand names elephants did call
“gods save us from this demonic fall
we had gathered to celebrate
human body with elephant pate”

12.
Elephants in meditations woke
as gods laughter loudly broke
thoughts of war all fell away
“We have lost the heart to kill today!”
elephants in yellow and white
led a parade of humane delight

13.
upon a lotus of mothers milk
songs of peace where the ilk
Ganesh’s father Shiva did appear
everyone ordered some near beer
Elephants adorned with flowers bright
ridden by humans all through the night

dreaming water: living air

2007-10-02T13:45:00.000-04:00

~~~~
In the reflection I am well
sickness has no foothold
beneath water's skin of mirror
I am breathing with great ease
~~~~

~~~~
we paddled
over the icy skin
of river's dream,
you dying
me sick
from love
~~~~

mountain river me

2007-09-16T11:28:00.000-04:00

August reflections

2007-09-14T16:44:00.000-04:00

I lift myself to the sun
great fire overhead
I am lifting myself

my surface eats
rays laid on me
I am lifting higher

stretching over the water
I am reaching to you
my sol

One-Hundred Word Story

2007-09-07T23:13:00.001-04:00

~Once upon a time there lived a man who had two wolves chained to a tree. A girl and her baby came to visit the man. As she turned to hug the man she lowered the child to the ground. Being a curious lad he crawled to the wolves. The wolves thinking they had just been given a gift, picked him up and trotted behind the tree.

As I listened to this story I was so shocked about the baby's fate that I forgot the rest of the story. So forever after the child is in the wolves grinning mouths.~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

the night the wolf appeared
first as a musty smell
he roamed wearily
in my dim dreams
he inhabited my waking
by first light
his second tell
tracks in the mud
scat boldly deposited

following nights
I laid awake waiting
for the breath of noise
an unseen movement
the crack of a twig

I lost a week
then fainted
flashes of blue black shine
long canines
garnet red eye
I'm dream walking
spray can in hand
like automatic writing
I released him onto the
red clay brick wall

*******
danced around black fir
my feet flew faster
than you could run

sleek body blur
a red eye
lingered

I dreamed of you
nightly
rapacious spirit

Paint Orange and Blue

2007-09-07T15:49:00.000-04:00

Blue Rust

2007-09-07T15:42:00.000-04:00

Brattleboro, Vermont

2007-09-07T15:38:00.000-04:00

Robyn with Lily scarf August 24, 2007

2007-08-24T10:55:00.000-04:00

blossoms on the road

2007-08-23T14:07:00.000-04:00

Lightning strikes tower of babel

2007-08-05T21:20:00.000-04:00

This poem was ignited by a lightning strike I watched hit a church three blocks from my living-room window on Friday night during the art walk. This weather event prompted a walkabout, and my lovely stroll was filled with bohemian life eye candy. What a fabulous town!

Lightning strikes tower of babel

electrified
Giacometti stick men
walked into our town
friday night,
a skinny white leg
stood-
upon the church steeple’s
granite cross,
a modern day
Ziggurat;
soldiers of fire kept watch
and bid us townspeople
wait;
do we storm heaven
waving our swords at
god?
or shall we accept that
Zeus
has walked among us
and
party on?

Lightning

2007-07-28T08:28:00.000-04:00

Lightning is fascinating in these photos:

http://www.lightningphotography.com/favourites.html

Information about different types of lightning:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lightning

how to survive lightning strikes

http://www.discoverychannel.com.au/survival_zone/worst_case/lightning/index.shtml

want to read a true story while waiting to use the land line or plumbing-

Gretel Ehrlich was born on a horse ranch near Santa Barbara, California and was educated at Bennington College and UCLA film school. She worked in film for ten years, then began writing fulltime in 1978 after the death of a loved one.

1991 was the year Ehrlich was hit by lightning while taking a walk on her ranch. She was hospitalized and severly debilitated for several years. She writes of the experience in her nationally bestselling memoir, A MATCH TO THE HEART, published by Pantheon in 1994.

or fiction:

A solitary New Jersey librarian whose favorite book is a guide to suicide methods is struck by lightning in Alice Hoffman's superb novel, The Ice Queen. Orphaned at the age of eight after angrily wishing she would never see her mother again, our heroine found herself frozen emotionally: "I was the child who stomped her feet and made a single wish and in so doing ended the whole world‹my world, at any rate." Her brother Ned solved the pain of their mother's death by becoming a meteorologist: applying reason and logic to bad weather. Eventually, he invites our heroine to move down to Florida, where he teaches at a university. Here, while trying to swat a fly, she is struck by lightning (the resulting neurological damage includes an inability to see the color red). Orlon County turns out to receive two thirds of all the lightning strikes in Florida each year, and our heroine soon becomes drawn into the mysteries of lightning: the withering of trees and landscape near a strike, the medical traumas and odd new abilities of victims, the myths of renewal. Although a recluse, she becomes fascinated by a legendary local farmer nicknamed Lazarus Jones, said to have beaten death after a lightning strike: to have seen the other side and come back. The burning match to her cool reserve--her personal unguided tour through Hades--Lazarus will prove to be the talisman that restores her to girlhood innocence and possibility.

2007 Illumination

2007-07-13T22:05:00.000-04:00

poems being critiqued on another site

2007-06-30T16:01:00.000-04:00

1.
Ode to LI

Anne, fair of face and
full of grace, did try to do
herself in that day

fates that bind our souls
to earth with needle and gold
thread, did mend her wings

lithium: tiny silvery
element-tarnishes in
a minute, fresh cut

the grey gift,
better than a battery
25 years and still running

2.
Rain On Me

Rain and brother consequence
how many words do we have for rain?
I am wordless in the midst of fat drops
that splat onto asphalt and as if-
I have opened a book and slapped it shut-
the drops grow hands and clap.

oh fuck what does it matter-
life comes and goes
we have no control
The void of one exquisite human being-
an essence of life, vitality, personality.
I miss you
miss you.
are we in the Bardo?
way too painful to be heaven-
a heaven of excruciating pain, maybe
my hands clap and thunder rolls

how many words for tears-

3.
The Dance

lively music lured me
off the street the night we did meet;
amid a sumptuous spread of food
each dude and lady fair
began a lively dance,
great lines formed right and left

some thin- others with heft
whisky ran through our veins
fiddlers rubbed their strings raw
a path parted then I saw,
he stepped from the crowd;
wild straw hair, his chest was bare

he flung himself onto the floor
my heart was captured by the wild boar
a dance we did I must confess
so low and base I ripped my dress,
to hades we had fled,
tears where shed as we lay dead

4.
My Nature Abused

A broken branch
I grew
like a river split
in two

I reach back
hold that child,
shield that baby,
heal my baby-girl
who is me

One river
one tree
a woman grown

5.
Memory

a gentle wave of starlight
licking on the beach
of earth's skin
night shine
electric blue iris
glowing, growing
warning of a danger
ghostlike tendrils stretch
over new night skies
this earth too hot
her skin chillingly cold

6.
she wandered the beach
gumbo earth took her foot with a screech
she fell to earth and lifetimes unfurled
memories of when she breathed for the world
laying under thin plastic
awaiting the fantastic
words like gum balls fell
candy for the insane death knell

Haiku

1.
'til starlight flickers
over your shoulder, I watch
sand shifting gently

2.
diluting my tears
ice-caps of heart are melting
my personal warming

3.
like dreams of our youth
I could balance on my head
till I went to bed

like dreams of our youth
I was so witty and gay
which got in my way

like dreams of our youth
wondering just who I might be
wrinkles sprinkled free

like dreams of our youth
reality slowed me down
smile now a frown

like dreams of our youth
nightmare of my death's release
when daydreams will cease

4.
one eye on the sky
head cocked ready to retract
falling stars glitter

one eye on the sky
mountains burn embers glow bright
animals panting

one eye on the sky
lightening strobes under gray clouds
we run hand in hand

one eye on the sky
your belly on mine, we dance
shall we name baby?

Cinquain:

of bitter-sweet grapes
skin, my neatly clipped nails peel
kneel- breathlessly close
your radiant lips
open, delicious

Snapshots:

1.
a chill wind whips my right eye
I watch intently as an eagle pulls at red flesh
he's standing on thin ice
dropping a bone he hops
rubbing his long yellow face
over ruffled ice
bothered ice
rumpled ice
he sips pooled water

a thirsty wind
steals my tears
and leaves them frozen
falling in small sparkling crystals

geese bark hiss walk
over the home-comb of ice
past the eagle
his white head turned
a pale yellow eye watching

2.
I laid back
breathlessly waiting
to see the helicopters

yet the billowing smoke rose
opening with the sun
honey bees had fled

I laid back
panting for air
black fingers in my lungs

I watched the mountain burn,
dry hot wind blew
as animals ran

when night shut the sky
red embers burned hot
below the horizon

"I am from":

1.
I am from naught
and unto naught I do become
yet, I linger longer than I should
in the naughty of naught

2.
I am from anger
I burn a dusky red
your voice bristles my fur
your scent burns in my nose
quiet, I am subduing my fury
really what good would it do
this internal burn and waste of energy
you will always work against me, why I don't know
I resent your presence in my life, you great destroyer
I am forever creatively working around you, my rock.

resonses to my crit:

1.
Her work does of the best things any poetry can do: it invites response. There is great honesty and openness in her work, and in her consistent play in the process of poetic thought, and in its community. By her example, I've come to a deeper personal appreciation of that play and process and community.

2.
She is one of my favorite poet's here, and a bit mysterious. I am looking forward to this BOW crit, probably this weekend when I have the proper amount of time to devote to it.
3.
I adore her way with words. It is as un-self-conscious, as free, as unique as anyone I've ever read. Her poems, without fail, feel as though they've been written to me, for me. She has a wondrous vocabulary, but she can use plain words to elegant effect just as well. And she knows just when slang or nonsense words will do the trick.

It's especially in her Snapshot poems that I find a spontaneous magic. It seems wrong even to suggest bridling her words with form.

Often, when I read her haiku, I think, she's already there -- where we're all trying to go.

She's capable of being topical, angry, tortured, blissful, horny, melancholy, forgetful, silly... anything. You can always tell it's her poem by its style, but you can't put her in a box, thematically.

Another thing I admire about her work is that it continues, regardless of the mortal storms many of us stir and endure here in the Poetry Forum. I find that humbling.

It's also interesting to me that, while most of her work here is untitled, and somewhat anonymous, it's unafraid and free. She reminds me that 'unafraid' need not be synonymous with 'aggressive' or 'ostentatious'. It just is. For example, this Snapshot poem:

heat blistering my neck
I stroll off the dance floor
my hair floating on hot sax tones

red glinting off long brown tresses
my breast bob
I wish they'd quit it

My butt is flirting the bar
I am being celibate
no one's taking me

seriously

*It's sultry, funny, annoyed, funny, and, finally, it dissolves into gentle pathos... only to slip the carpet out from under our feet at the end. In ten quiet lines.

Finally, her poems encourage me. During times when I think I've got little left to say, I read what she finds in small moments, or the unusual topics she finds, and I realise that, yes, there's more to write.

I'm a very big fan -- clearly.

awaiting call to continue life

2007-06-22T12:12:00.000-04:00

awaiting call to continue life

life winged softly
hollow boned
breath
&
blood
quickened

fear gripped
her body
tightening
jaw
&
neck

death's
secrets
long ago
sealed
within familial
code

anxiety danced
her
to the phone
she exhaled,
then
received the doctor's call

Walk 'round the moon

2007-06-22T09:26:00.000-04:00

walk ‘round the moon

skipping
jumping
I stumbled,
moon dust
rose
an unfolding flower,
green cheese
I swear it,
no more
walking
on the
moon
or
wish I'd brought
crackers

good day sunshine

2007-06-21T08:33:00.000-04:00

rolling out of bed
ambling into coffee
combing out my dreams
bending my thoughts

goldfinch graze thistle
jaunty black cap
tipped onto round eyes
orange beak and feet
mustard yellow suit
charcoal wings
white bars

he opens beak hissing
paler bird hisses
mouths touching
seeds fly falling

whispers of promise
piano riff rolls
melody becomes mood

a new day
feels bright
alive
easy

Ole Man Winter's last gasp 2007

2007-06-15T15:55:00.000-04:00

Town plows were going all night- I had restless sleep. Woke up at dawn to about 20" of bluish lavender snow being topped off with an icing of sleet. We've got a howling wind with screeching plows peppered by percussive beeping. It's the last big dance for ole man winter, maybe. Spring is excitedly waiting in the wings. The tangle of seasons have caught the birds with their feathered pants down. End of the winter hunger makes them scurry to my feeder.
All is quiet for a moment and the sky is brightening with a promise of later day sun.

Plum Island sojourn

2007-05-26T15:19:00.001-04:00

we loved a lot,
fought a little
made up

walked tons
looked at birds
so much my eyes hurt

sat on a boardwalk
at the beach
in front of the weather channel

we ate noodles, fish, rice
we even ate turkey
birds inside & out
washed down with coffee, tea and wine

we talked
birds
birds
birds

I was so excited
had to walk away
take a break
draw a picture
look at my cuticles

we're home and lonesome
town's traffic replaced ocean waves
up at the crack-of-dawn
searching for passerines

Shimmer

2007-05-03T15:54:00.000-04:00

I love him
I love him
let us spin together
we circle round
I see your rough edges
cutting my feelings raw
I love you
I love you
now that I've found love
I am told to set it free
why must you be so beautiful
at the threshold of death

Dante, the divine comedy spent

2007-04-04T23:16:00.000-04:00

"Hey, I look pretty good"
he turned away
and in his wake I asked
she whispered, "he has cancer"
I rounded the corner
there he stood perusing the olive oils
"She told me," I said.
He cocked his head.
the story rolled off his tongue
rare cancer...
we are in a pocket of rare cancers
"I've got death perched on my shoulder...
I used to do yoga, now I live it!"
I know grief roiled over my face
he lost a moment to great sadness
we stood there, two souls, pondering our
transitory passage on this planet
I snuck into the office and cried
my tears hurt my eyes

how sweet is the beaver

2007-03-14T23:25:00.000-04:00

trudged through knee deep snow, opened my portable chair on the edge of a partially ice covered Connecticut river. Binoculars pressed to my eyes I saw what looked like a dog swimming at the river bank. Not a dog, but a big healthy beaver passed and was chewing on a downed tree. He's a shy guy so as soon as I gasped he ducked under the water leaving a bubble trail to watch. Each breath broke the surface with a tiny ripple. I watched the blue sky in a smokey reflection punctuated by beaver's exhale.
the air was crisp, the mood upbeat but somber, the snow giving and deep, the silence broken by bubbles bursting and all of this made me feel so happy.

Rain on me...

2007-01-13T16:24:00.001-05:00

Rain and brother consequence

how many words do we have for rain?
I am wordless in the midst of fat drops
that splat onto asphalt and as if-
I have opened a book and slapped it shut-
the drops grow hands and clap.

oh fuck what does it matter-
life comes and goes
we have no control
The void of one exquisite human being-
an essence of life, vitality, personality.
I miss you
miss you.
are we in the Bardo?
way too raw to be heaven-
a heaven of excruciating pain, maybe
my hands clap and thunder rolls

how many words for tears-

Ode to Steve
Robyn

~ Hand~

2007-01-13T13:06:00.001-05:00

fingers

index is kind of a leader
saturn is pondering index
ring is in-love permanently
baby, well, will always be baby

thumb can be self centered

index and thumb connect
forming a grid of energy
ego & Jupiter
OMmmmmmmm

Valentines Day

2007-01-05T09:25:00.000-05:00

Valentines Day

my daddy adored
mama, his heart died the day
she rejected him
_________________

her hair a red blaze
he was in a daze, listen!
then she said, "I do"
_________________

mama's favorite was
herself, daddy never did
measure up-what's love?
_________________

cut out a photo
of home-pasted on doily
baby loves mama
_________________

Lock her up, lock her
heart shaped red jello, kiss a
fellow: she chain-smoked
_________________

red smoke hung over
my pastel, rubbed the paper
didn't skip a beat

Robyn @ River Gallery School

2006-12-15T09:22:00.000-05:00

This was published in the Weekend Reformer of September 23-25, 2006 on the front page above the fold.
Sweet!

Dire Series Poetry Reading in Cambridge,Ma

2006-12-10T09:17:00.000-05:00

you see they are my tears

2006-11-13T23:16:00.000-05:00

you see they are my tears

on this surface
I see small circles of salt water
on this table
is clutter
scribbles of names
my eyeglass prescription
on this table is a note
about a poetry date
I must keep
hotel reservation in Cambridge
in December
I can't fuck this up
on this table are my broken pills
I grasp them with my swollen fingers
one falls under the bed
christ, four dollar pills
I go after them on bended knee
there is a world under my bed
large gray Kansas dust balls
and books I have promised myself to read
I am on my knees praying I can find the pill
while back on the table a rustling sound commences
my fan catches all grocery receipts
spins them into the dusty air
I am on my knees crying out to christ
while on the table the salty pools crystalize

art work

2006-09-24T09:09:00.000-04:00

paintings

2006-09-24T09:07:00.000-04:00

Red & Gray #1 Detail

2006-09-06T09:38:00.000-04:00

2006 drawing Connecticut River

2006-09-04T17:35:00.000-04:00

Detail of nest with lemons

2006-09-04T10:17:00.000-04:00