Saturday, March 16, 2013

Friday, September 02, 2011

Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Whetstone Arts building on Whetstone Brook



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

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.

Saturday, August 13, 2011

Brattleboro Food Coop 2011

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.

Sunday, November 21, 2010

I been holding things apart to keep them together.

Saturday, July 10, 2010

Rain Danced Tanka

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.

Monday, May 03, 2010

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.

Sunday, January 17, 2010

Flame Wars



mean has four letters-

just a word
I move around.
a razor rock in my 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

Sunday, January 10, 2010

Friday, January 08, 2010

2010


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...

Wednesday, December 16, 2009


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.

Sunday, September 13, 2009

I miss you Hope


I miss you my dear Hope.

Thursday, September 03, 2009

men walking outside our window

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


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.

Friday, July 31, 2009

I'm feeling lazy




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

Saturday, June 20, 2009

“Daddy’s in the hospital”

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?

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Monday, May 25, 2009

Saturday, May 09, 2009

My new love


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.

Monday, March 16, 2009

Short cut to hell


Short cut to hell

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


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.