I wrote Mother in May 2004 and sent it to Momma for Mother’s Day, what turned out to be the last Mother’s Day of our life. A couple of months later she was gone. Momma’s Hands was written then. I miss her and wish her spirit well. Mine will spend the remainder of its life here on earth healing in the light of my children’s love.
Speaking of healing and adding joy, Happy Mother’s Day! to Tammy, Christy, Tommy, Harley Blue, Zedidiah, Danni Jo, and Michelle and Heather! Wish I was there to collect some hugs and eat cake with you all today. I love each of you in myriad ways and the beautiful little People in our Family.
~Mother~
On those days when life is just too damned heavy to carry, I set it down and think about her.
She is young in my thoughts, so full of hope she just might burst. That round hard belly, the load she must carry, is part of her. It defies understanding. She must not and does not set it down. Even when it journeys from womb to breast, a cradle her arms make. When it learns to walk her hands take and it walks away but never leaves her. She must not and does not set it down.
On those days when life is just too damned heavy to carry, I set it down and think about her.
My load is diminished in the shadow of her courage. I am enlightened to know she is there. Yes, she is
just there. She must not and does not set me down.
~Momma’s Hands~
Momma’s hands held mine, patty-cake, tickling my piggies, baby powder soft. “I was raised by sisters in a Catholic orphanage,” she told me. My tiny fists around her fingers, I learned to walk in Momma’s hands. Momma’s hands offered love and solace, fingers pushing Vicks into my nose, rubbing it into my chest, pinning towels tight around a cold that never had a chance, caressed my face, trembled, that I might be tended by, the awesome healing power of Momma’s hands.
Momma’s hands knew every part of me, my young and broken heart. A cradle they would make that I would be safe and secure beneath their wings, a tender-keep they were. Brothers and sisters, each and all, gathered within the circle of Momma’s hands.
Momma’s hands birthing and growing, teaching and knowing when to let go, when to shelter and pull away, the wounds of her life made small by the desire to tend to helpless things, danger held at bay and more ‘neath Momma’s hands.
Something fell Momma down. We gathered in ones and twos in the hospital ICU, doctors and nurses understanding, shaking their heads. “I’m so tired,” she said. They lay limp at her side and I cried at the sight of Momma’s hands.
“Where’s the priest?” “Are those the sisters?” she asked my sister. “Are they coming to tell me what they used to tell me... Wake up, little girl, don’t you cry?” Her voice was thin, “I’m not gonna die.” A tear slid down her face, “I’m going home.”
Later, after she has rested, she is much weaker, once proud lips full, no, clouded eyes, the merciful opiate haze of morphine. Oh, you candle spirit, what are we without you? What is life without her?
Time stops. My lips, one last kiss, those hands, whose job is done are finally at rest. I lift them up, one by one. I kiss them goodbye, Momma’s hands.
In loving memory of my Mother, Carroll Belle Hart (Stene/Sterner) 7 September, 1931 – 11 July, 2004
~A Tear for the Choir~
Poor; she taught us to be proud Proud; she taught us to be humble her example of integrity and individuality true and pure beyond question or explanation
She asked more of herself and expected it from others yet never refused to lend a hand to lost, world-weary, and hungry souls be they human or beast
One doesn’t say goodbye to her She created a space in those she loved to make them stronger We are come to say hello to those spaces to sing their praises to the extraordinary lady who never knew how to let us down but gave of herself and just enough to make us strong all who carry her song in our hearts that we might go on without her
In loving memory of my Mother Carroll Belle Hart (Stene/Sterner) 7 September, 1931 – 11 July, 2004
~passive shades~
~sun filter~ ~a rip in the umbrella~ ~stroke of noon~ ~dog panting~ ~water dripping~ ~saliva from its tongue~ ~if I adjust the umbrella~ ~I’ll have to do it all afternoon~ ~the sun will move past the tear~ ~if I leave it alone~ ~the truth of my ponderings~ ~answers seldom as clear as that~ ~two days after the big moon~ ~the dog is asleep~ ~the rip moving past me~ ~like a night~ ~like a day~ ~like a life~
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~the morning caught me looking the other way~like the face in the mirror~ it continues to look back and the dog won’t stop barking~ who are these dead people in the room staring from the black glass box~
~Sunday Come Early~Sunday came too early, 7:30a.m., the dog banging on the door downstairs. I took her some water, told her to be quiet, went back to bed. A few minutes later she commenced to bark, bringing the neighbors into our morning. Resigned to my fate, I got dressed and went outside. Like a spoiled child, one way or another, the dog usually gets her way.
Sunday morning came too early, 1a.m., my wife and I finished watching a movie, Sling Blade. John Ritter was in the movie. He’s dead now in real life. Dennis Hopper died last year. It occurs to me that the deaths of these actors I’ve been watching most of my life, in some vague sense, has something to do with me. As if my aching bones weren’t reminders enough this Sunday morning come too early.
Aging is relative to life, isn’t it. Like it or not, if it isn’t occurring, neither are you. So I’m thankful for the good ol’ dog, my coffee morning wife and stepdaughter still asleep in her rooms upstairs, especially gifted and thankful for my five wonderful children and their sweet little ones.
I take several moments each day and night to dwell on those specific and special children of mine. The night would never end if I hadn’t held them close in my mind and spirit with each breath. Sunday morning wouldn’t occur. Who would water and quiet the dog. I am glad to be a man who has done so, three cups of coffee in to a Sunday come early.
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~from the Shadow Danse album~Bloodline~ ~a vision of winter reflected in the eyes of age~ ~the guitarist on this album is my son Tommy~I write and sing the words~ ~he remembers them~I don’t~yet he refuses to sing~I hear his voice~ ~like an echo of my own when we play~I’ve never actually caught him singing~ ~in addition to the guitar work~ ~he does all the mixing down a & finessing our work in his studio~ ~as a father & creative man myself~I am enthralled at his genius~ ~when I first heard this recording I thought he had mixed~ a harmony track of my own voice into the chorus~ ~my daughter advised me~don’t tell him but no~ the voice harmonizing with yours is his~he finally did some singing~ ~(I knew he could)~ but not in front of dad~
~Cold Winter Eyes~
~she gets up every morning~ ~she drinks a cup of coffee~ ~there’s a face inside the mirror ~ ~and a thousand broken pieces~ ~the cold moon surely freezes~ ~all hope attends the rainbow~ ~and life just passes by~ ~cold winter eyes~ ~cold winter eyes~
~she’s had some kids and husbands~ ~they send her cards and pictures~ ~lots of letters full of kisses ~ ~she reads between the lines~ ~the darkness comes upon her~ ~as she turns the empty pages~ ~and her heart is cold as ice~ ~cold winter eyes~ ~cold winter eyes~
~there’s a cold cold cup of coffee~ ~and an old and broken mirror~ ~and a pile of worthless ashes~ ~where once there was a fire~ ~and the spirit is the reason~ ~what sad and broken angel~ ~whose wings will never fly~ ~cold winter eyes~ ~cold winter eyes~
~la la la la la la~ ~la la la la la la~ ~la la la la la la~ ~la la la and la~ ~ah ah ah ah ah~ ~ah ah ah ah ah~ ~oh oh oh oh oh~ ~cold winter eyes~ ~cold winter eyes~
~when death stands in the doorway~ ~all promises are broken~ ~and the shadow of a woman~ ~living in the mirror~ ~and the cold moon surely freezes~ ~as she cries into the winter~ ~and the tears freeze in her eyes~ ~cold winter eyes~ ~cold winter eyes~
This is your new blog post. Click here and start typing, or drag in elements from the top bar. ~Little Jesus~
~Mirage~
~they sat in a circle~the two of them~ ~theirs was a shared awareness of no thing~infinite possibilities~ ~a vision of Lords dansed between them~ ~will of Creator~wisp of essence~incapable of boredom~ ~with some sense of humor~a combined energy~ ~given birth the moment~
~the principled father~ ~mother of purity~ ~absence of vanity~ ~sincerity of purpose~ ~all things humane~ ~freedom at any cost~ ~safety in numbers~ ~glory in defeat~ ~atonement of sin~ ~pity as pacifier~ ~normal assemblage~ ~benevolence of royalty~ ~holiness of priests~ ~the erect politician~ ~moral policeman~ ~singular motive~ ~best intentions~ ~chaste kisses~ ~government promise~ ~lap of luxury~ ~sincere beggar~ ~sex for sex sake~ ~love for sex sake~ ~heaven sake~ ~reconciled victim~ ~rehabilitated rapist~ ~whenever 'I'm sorry'~ ~love other than self~ ~existence oases~ ~a dignified death~ ~sincere amnesty~ ~this bears repetition~ ~this bears repetition~
~this bears repetition~ ~art for art's sake~ ~man in Gods' image~ ~woman as reward~ ~honorific recognition~ ~original sin~ ~any reference to aeon~ ~distance as love bait~ ~I won't hurt you~ ~& my dog doesn't bite~ ~obvious intentions~ ~light of day~ ~light of night~ ~wise men~ ~animals as speaking idiots~ ~other than human~ ~shared prosperity~ ~faith in dervish~ ~sanity of justice~ ~welfare Cadillac~ ~clean water~ ~drug counselor~ ~psychological awareness~ ~social security~ ~hope for the poor~ ~foundation of family~ ~driving on the telephone~ ~green peace~ ~war on drugs~ ~capital expenditures~ ~common sense~ ~lifetime warranty~ ~satisfaction guaranteed~ ~customer service~ ~free rent~ ~damage deposit~ ~christian forgiveness~ ~the open sea~ ~dumb animals~ ~good guys & bad guys~ ~them & us~ ~clean living~ ~winners & losers~ ~a free ride~ ~one square inch unpolluted~ ~relief valve~ ~escape key~ ~any true witness~ ~other than chaos~ ~normal behavior~ ~square corners~ ~outer limits~ ~inner peace~ ~immaculate conception~ ~protective custody~ ~a round tuit~ ~acceptable losses~ ~the flying man~ ~death of gods~ ~age of reason~ ~missionary largesse~ ~preventative medicine~ ~innocent until~ ~free will~ ~human connection~ ~mated for life~ ~dominion~ ~funereal disguise~ ~bread winners~ ~non combative personality~ ~organized religion~ ~a striving toward normalcy~ ~process of elimination~ ~running stool~ ~amicable reconciliation~ ~affordable housing~ ~good drivers~ ~critical mass~ ~high priest~ ~drug lord~ ~dutiful wife~ ~eclectic taste~ ~the third breast~ ~idle conversation~ ~state of unrest~ ~state of Colorado~ ~state of being~ ~merciful heaven~ ~absolution of sin~ ~war & peace~ ~battle mockup~ ~unadulterated flesh~ ~season of plenty~ ~life on far planets~ ~this one in particular~ ~backup system~ ~angels & hat men~ ~ladies of the night~ ~accidental collusion~ ~intentional chaos~ ~will to power~ ~wont to shame~ ~acronymic truth~ ~prison politic~ ~unequivocal device~ ~prayer endings amen~ ~random violence~ ~any number of senses~ ~innocence lost~ ~a shovel full of eden~ ~plastered in Paris~ ~father as bitch~ ~same gender parents~ ~man as god~ ~holy remembrance~ ~holy cow~ ~mythical union~ ~forward thinkers~ ~successful committee~ ~I didn't mean to~ ~a bad seed~ ~the good son~ ~overkill~ ~homing pigeons~ ~christ on a toothpick~ ~sincere prostitute~ ~honest john~ ~solemn oath~
They sat in a circle, the two of them. Theirs was a shared awareness of no thing. Infinite possibilities, a vision of Lords dansed between them, will of Creator, wisp of essence. Incapable of boredom, with some sense of humor, a combined energy, was given birth the moment.
Having no sense of entitlement, not only did they not name the child... Time, it was loosed, allowed a will of its own. These of the circle yawned as their child adopted a spiracle tone, wrapped itself in universe, mad inventions of its own. These created made a terrible howling and the parents, annoyed by the child's noisome toys, allowed the two-sided circle to close. Thus were erected the heir apparent and errant parent.
This spoiled child, angry and alone, playing in the blood of its mud, began to manufacture discontent and a creature whose image mirrored what it imagined it might be, given mortality and physical form. These chose to idolize themselves and porcelain gods in their image.
The child, Time, swore a fury of vengeance upon these it had made, that they would wither away, face all ways a declining and decrepit flesh, hunger ever more for youth as Time itself devoured all before and about them.
Finally each moment was named for this merciless master. The hollow spheres of its kingdom were erected temples owned in the name given the master and that name was GOD.
fidelity of flesh unintentional idol death after life...
a compilation of lies,useless information, bad jokes&little poems
For every action, there is an equal and opposite criticism.
It costs about 3 cents to make a $1 bill.
intent of counterpoint duelists in the dawn portrait silhouette baby is crying
A 6-year-old boy opened the family bible. He was fascinated as he fingered through the thin pages. Suddenly, something fell out of the bible. He picked the object up and looked at it. It was an old leaf that had been pressed in between the pages. “Mom, look what I found,” he called out. “What have you got there?” she asked. In an awe-struck voice, he answered, “I think it's Adam's underwear.”
Spiders never spin webs in or on structures made of chestnut wood. That’s why so many tall European buildings were built with chestnut beams. Spider webs on a 50-foot beamed ceiling are a pain to remove.
a city on the move weeping of mountain witless romantic the emperor sighs
A 6-year-old girl had just finished her first week of school. “I'm just wasting my time Mom,” she said. “I can't read, I can't write and they won't let me talk!”
The first Band-Aid Brand Adhesive Bandages were 3 inches wide and 18 inches long. You made your own bandage by cutting off as much as you needed.
legends of God-speak thin binding flesh Momma’s smoking a cigarette laughter from the whiskey bar
a compilation of lies, useless information, bad jokes & little poems
If you think nobody cares about you, try missing a couple of car payments.
Ten thousand insects are required to feed a single toad during the course of a typical summer.
left and right crosses requirements of requiem asleep in the choir voice deeper than stone
Drugs may lead to nowhere, but at least it's the scenic route.
A sneeze travels at a speed of over 100 m.p.h.
let us taste his beans the door of opportunity three winds in a vacuum outside waiting four more
Bills make it through the mail at twice the speed of checks.
Quaaludes, the sex drug of choice during the disco era, were first developed to fight malaria.
we were passed by Dilbert a tin-can tuna melt tryin’ to live in the hills a writer of camp songs
A fool and his money are soon partying.
The world's largest amphibian is the giant salamander. It can grow up to 5 ft. long.
she has fish eyes ducks swimming ‘cross the sky each drawer wears a masque alone in the room
A clear conscience is usually the sign of a bad memory.
Mosquitoes are attracted to the color blue twice as much as to any other color.
life is a cross ties footstep on the moon sadder than spilt water funnel of mercy
To steal ideas from one person is plagiarism. To steal from many is known as research.
Ants stretch when they wake up. They also appear to yawn like humans before taking up the tasks of the day.
she listens to voices owls sleep in the afternoon for a slice of white bread dreams of the kill
a compilation of lies, useless information, bad jokes & little poems
I plan to be spontaneous tomorrow.
Captain Kangaroo, Bob Keeshan, was star of the first TV network kids’ show in the United States. CBS launched it in 1954.
decision to wear my motor a free and separate passion dizzying rain dithery doo
The conscience is what hurts when all other parts feel good.
The human heart rests between beats. In the average lifetime of 70 years, the total resting time is estimated to be about 40 years.
unclear as stark light a bug on the windscreen this dream sequence leggy bits of goo
42.7 percent of all statistics are made up on the spot.
It takes roughly 63,000 trees to make the newsprint for the average Sunday edition of The New York Times.
the cueing of partners frazzle of thread bits bananas on a plate speaking of winter
99 percent of lawyers give the rest a bad name.
A crocodile can go through 2,000 to 3,000 teeth in a lifetime.
four times a dollar quarters of century ill spent years praying for mother
Half the people you know are below average.
Each year, there are more than 40,000 toilet related injuries in the United States.
who will hold us up robbers upon closing death is a whip nine bells down
Borrow money from pessimists. They don't expect it back.
No president of the United States was an only child.
prisoners of light moth conspiracy war men fan the flames sense of dignity
While conducting a routine vandalism report at an elementary school, the policeman was interrupted by a 7-year-old girl. Staring at his uniform, she asked, “Are you a cop?” “Yes,” he replied and continued writing his report. “My mother told me if I ever need help I should ask the police. Is that right?” “Yes,” he answered. “Okay then,” she said, extending her foot toward him, “Would you please tie my shoe?”
The longest one syllable word in the English language is screeched.
fellow witnesses all hail bride of satan to wings aspire
The guy was sitting in his living room having a beer when he heard a tiny sound, tick, tick-tick. He got up and went to the door, opened it up and didn't see anything. The man returned to his chair. No sooner had he gotten comfortable, he heard that aggravating sound again, tick, tick-tick. He got up and opened the door again. This time he looked more carefully and there at his feet was a snail. He drew back and kicked it as hard as he could.
Six months later the man was sitting in his living room having a beer, taking it easy. Tick, tick-tick. He jumped up and threw the door open. Sure enough, there was the snail. The snail said, "Why'd you do that?"
Singer Aretha Franklin is afraid of flying. She won’t travel on airplanes for concerts no matter where they are.
shallow aurora shadow of eos no time like now some thing fishy swim
If everything seems to be going well, you’ve overlooked something.
Coprastasophobia is the fear of constipation.
I don’t understand you thank you your applause might unearth me
When everything’s coming your way, you're in the wrong lane.
Buttermilk does not contain any butter.
respite of tyrants from mouths of babes epithet lullaby
Hard work pays off in the future. Laziness pays off now.
A man’s brain is only 2 percent of his body weight, while a woman’s brain makes up 2.5 percent of her body weight, a full 25 percent more.
a mother to strangers orphans of choice voice of descent six cubed down
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