Wednesday, November 30, 2016

The power of a single letter

Of course, I'm thinking of "a."  Adopt and adapt.  haiku, this gorgeous, precocious kitty came to live with me 11 years ago today.  Yup, adopt.  Regarding, adapt, see below.  The debonair and all-knowing Dumbledore and the talk of the jewelry world, Sweetie (note her signature pink heart).

Tuesday, November 29, 2016

The only thing sweeter to me

than a persimmon is a cat & a persimmon.  Intention carves reality and reality knows a good persimmon and a fine kitty.  By the way have you noticed how the seasonal is never singular? How a word rarely stays singular?  How a meal is made more savory by sharing a persimmon?


Who can resist a blooming succulent?   A bloom of vibrant red or yellow coming out of the unexpected.   Otherworldly and comforting as a cup of tea.  Nature is one interconnected art collaboration.
Let's remember to show up as an enthusiastic audience.  There is joy aplenty in witnessing such.

What the empty remembers

No vase if truly empty.

The same true of a dish.

There is no such thing as a blank page for at one time, the page knew words.

Monday, November 28, 2016

Small green flame

My grandmother insisted there was a small green flame in the center of everything that matters.  I feel that way about poetry.  I feel that way about a meal shared with friends.  Here's to the small green flame in all that matters.

Tulip star

Tulips are favorite flowers of mine.  I am always delighted & made shy by their sexy insides.  Meals should be like tulips.  And remember, a tulip, especially purple-hued, is pure poem.

Because I looked down

I came face-to-face with his magical green being.  For years I've waited at that green bench early Sunday morning to catch the #48 Bus for the uphill ride to Portola Drive.  Only this Sunday, did I see what has been at my feet.  This is why I love cities -- unexpected pleasures like a meal that tastes beyond expectation, like a poem that takes away and then gives back breath.  Now, what will I notice the next time I look up?  And to the artist of this magic -- thank you!

flower eyes

Yes, flowers have petals & stems & leaves.  They have eyes, too.  Just look into them.  And this is how tulip-eyes see a vase of themselves.  Tulips the color of persimmons with eyes which celebrate late autumn.  Note that downward (above) "broken tulip" -- an exquisite line break to a poem.

Saturday, November 26, 2016



nestled in
and nestled
by community
succulents remind me
of cat & poem napping
while the preheating oven
awaits pumpkin
muffins.  Spices
break through
the cloudy morning

Soft eyes

Time liquifies.
I learned this
from my cat.

Sunday, November 6, 2016

Cap, stalk and gill

among the mulch.  Beautiful and varied, the monochrome never bores.  Consider  26 over-used letters in our alphabet and yet, poems sprout up and sometimes, a frittata is served.

Friday, November 4, 2016

Hearing & seeing

It's been said there's nothing more satisfying that hearing a good story.
I say, there's nothing more rewarding that seeing a story.
Salads are like this, too.  Who doesn't love to see a vibrant salad?
Who doesn't love seeing a petite poem imbedded in a salad?
Who doesn't love hearing the poem in a drop of rain?
Who questions that a question is the perfect conveyance for hearing & seeing?