the art of walking

My Muse: Matisse!! Moroccan Woman (Zorah Standing). Central panel of a triptych. 1912. Oil on canvas.

the art of walking
by Mary Miller Pembleton

...I tried to live your way, land locked and mountain high
But I keep cooking fish tacos when all you like is venison stew

My tattered pirate scarves, sandals in snow
You head to toe in camouflage, suspicious of open spaces

Knew on the honeymoon cruise trouble was afoot with you
in the state room green-gilled as I swayed in midnight moon glow

hoped the mermaid painting souvenir would be enough, you
made me a lamp of shells and sands, painted the walls "azure dreams"

for hours on end we perched in your home made tree stand waiting
for deer to come, in silent restraint, I longed only for the blue sea

satisfied by seaweed salad and salt on my sun torched lips
madly riding waves past sunset, tending the crackling bonfire till dawn

time to leave you to the beef jerky, turkey shoots and perfecting the art
of walking on dry leaves without making any sound at all

Still Life: A Poem with Mary and Henri

I love the arts; theater, live music, dance, art history, poetry and learning about the lives of artists. Devoting time to this passion of mine has been spotty at best. My iPad is making it easier to fit some art and inspiration into my days which are filled with running our family business. Masterpieces app gives me 200 images as a springboard and a short google search later and I am learning about Manet, Van Gogh, O"Keeffe and many others.

Henri Matisse makes me very happy, his use of color, composition and texture pleases my eye and soothes my heart. His Large Red Interior,1848, an oil on canvas caught my attention and a story formed in my head about how that very red room came to be. The phrase popped into my mind, "he once drank cups of me..." and this poem was born. It is not biographical either from Henri's life or my own but it effectively creates a mood by employing the imagery of temperature, color and thirst. The title Still Life is appropriate because of the many ways those two words can be interpreted.

Still Life

one simmering flame warms the hand blown teapot
he once drank cups of me
his young white leaf, his lemon honey
freshly filled fruit bowls spilling over everywhere

a gray afternoon found him down on the ground
Wailing about color and hue
Insistent it all turn crimson; moldings, floor, our furniture
Arms high, wild shouting,
     "Saturate the walls! Add a ruby ceiling!"

funny how the new love hut has no paint at all.
hot under his blankets of red
a ceramic saucer lies empty
one thirsty heart cries-out for primer

Can You Hand Me A Towel

Just out of reach
a hazy muffled
“I love you.”
hung in the air

wiping our after
shower mirror
the fog lifted
reflecting 499 pieces

a puzzled
face
forever left
incomplete

Proof

Proof

A great writer once said
“With inspiration a poem can unfold
but to become great poetry show me the proof.”

more this; less that
reorder, rephrase, recite, replace

review, restate, repeat, retrace
again and again, we chanted:

proof to the North of Grammar and grace
proof to the East for punctuation and space

proof to the South all errors erase
proof to the West format it in place

proof it and praise it to all above
proof it and praise it to all below

the seventh proof turns it and twirls
upward, outward and into the world

denied or dignified; adored or abhorred
hugged, loved or given a shrug

rated, hated, debated
even cleverly imitated; matters not

the mark’s been made, it goes on without you
you may wistfully wish to write it anew

don’t fret, wait it out
be Dickinson about it

if needing reassurance check on it
you will find it over there
in the pudding


Mary Miller Pembleton
July 29, 2010

The Farmer's Market

rolled one by one
to the crooked table's edge
sticky blood oranges
hanging on
one breath away
from free fall
a drop shot
their downfall

no one seems to notice
i don't know how much longer
they can hold on
perched there
on such a very
small
ledge

may push them off myself
save them the humiliation
when with
one good squeeze
quicker than a startled gasp
if the lights go out
eyes close
and they get blamed
for the strange
stinging
flowing into
darkness

Spring Fever Summer Love

only ever lasts about three days
the spring green hue i long to capture
want to crawl inside the new growth
curl up, stay forever

about three days you remind me
the longest I wait
before imagining a problem or
registering some complaint

once young determined buds
a long weekend and we fell
knew all the answers
far from tailored lawns and traffic circles

freed on the cement leaving town
got chills seated in the sun's full rays
hair flying in dandelion wind
blaring down the pike

called you Rexy, to you I was Lou
past the motorcycle bars playing blues
beer specials so cheap you can't imagine
how they make any money at all

to the dune's edge into jellyfish waves
tawny skin splashing
slicing safely in spaces in between
never getting stung, not once

wide salty rimmed eyes
reckless, undressed, burned red
bright lights, were there sirens?
with a wild howl we lept off that train bridge

up early today listening for birds
to call our names
maybe dig up some worms
take out the boat, go fishing

the dew covered garden glows
effervescent lime shoots reaching
through mud and dreams
seeds of teenage madness sprouting

Mary Pembleton
June 29, 2010

Lennon Lives

there is
nothing to forgive
nothing is really wrong
Peace lives right here right now for all
John's song

Truck Stop Candy

I know, I know, I have to stop
everyone keeps telling me
it's dangerous
anything could happen
why would you take a risk like that
But I'm still doing it

my neural by-ways are crowded
my synaptic blue highways filled
vagabonds, gypsies
dust covered nomads
just standing there smiling
on the edge of the road
all of them hitchhiking
never sure to where

this mind of mine
always slowing down
pulling over
picking them up
taking them where ever they want to go
what can I say
I'm a generous soul
interested in helping others

they give me great ideas sometimes
and sure are good listeners
the backpacked guys
the girls all dressed in layers
share interesting perspectives
some are world travelers
they seem to love my stories
say my poems are the best they've heard
ask why I'm not published
assure me they would buy my work

we stop for snickers bars and gum
toss out all the empty cups
maybe they see my humble genius
they never want to say Good Bye
give me hugs, take my picture
thank me endlessly
nice characters all
such enthusiasm
can't have anything
to do with
that twenty
I palmed them
when they got
inside the truck

on the entrance ramp
I see white t-shirts
a friendly looking couple
thumbing a ride
let me see
if I can
help them out

Live It

Rip off the Wrapping
Life is A Gift

Play With Passion
Life is a Game

Laugh Till it Hurts
Life is Funny

Share Everything
Life has Enough

Sing like a Rock Star
Life is A Song

Ask Any Question
Life has the Answer

Create a Masterpiece
Life is a Work of Art

Have Cake and Eat it Too
Life is a Party

Be willing to get Wet
Life is an Underwater Wonder

Go on Safari
Life is a Daring Adventure

Get a PhD
Life is fascinating

Life is Your Limosine
It will take you anywhere you tell it to go

Daily Double

Reading
books back to front
I know answers first, but
like Jeopardy, can speak only
questions

beach bum

I went to the water
today I swear
I tasted quiet
inhaled tender
calm as a clam
amid seas of commotion
resisting any movement at all
the waves carrying me
long distances
drifting
along the shore line

my breath
in charge
leading
each flawless
stroke cutting
with telescopic precision
moving silently forward
covering a lot of ground
without suspicion
on course
I'm identical
remain the same
in place where i started
not even wet
the sun unmoved
across the sky
it seemed like that
anyway
to ice cream licking
onlookers
sun glassed friends
close kin

New Vues

glasses;
rose colored? clear?
one black forbidding patch
to wear? our gut sees better than
20/20

Write Inspiration

clean sheet
no words to read
promising future times
of reverie enjoying the
process

tortilla moon

tortilla moon

wild breath in my chest drawing me westward
magical wind swept tales told
7,000 feet high on cold creek wine

pudding soft arroyo steps
leading me in ways of elders and remarkable men
powered by thought and around 10,000 waves

the journey begins by finding
prisms in quartz veins
sponsored by The Shooting Star Illuminations™Co.

doughnut-glazed eyes try to concentrate
as sun drenched summits wave
wagging packs of pups approach

well used guitars everywhere
friends share all comforts
encourage untamed investigations into faces, stories, spaces

late winter climbs to hot spring pockets where no one ever minds waiting
it's about creatively mating with all life experiences
(this one guy waited for us in the Jemez Valley like literally all night and next morning was still smiling)

lick a lace agate slice
mold pots of sweet cherry clay
hang freedom weavings from roadside stands

is your devotion just a passing phase?
check the schedule
the train is pulling out of the station

at all the festivals, roasting pinon wood
over heating sun-ripened cheeks
every native wolf howling

pulse racing as vivid colors cast spells
get lots more drinking water
such passions can be dehydrating

damn chile cravings again
of all the places on this earth
blood mountain and moonscape.... really?

Santa Fe we need to talk,
time has come for me
to do my own cooking,
kick things up a notch,
pump my own heart

Potluck

You get a glaze, that far away stare, where you go I'm unaware
But you can trust me babe I swear, I long to know your thoughts and cares
You are my life, my answered prayer

Just snuggle up and settle in
set your face against my chin
and talk to me about anything

The internet or foreign affairs, fashion, cooking, cleaner air
talk to me in our love worn chair
we are a pair, a union rare

Who's the latest billionaire, new ways to play solitaire,
every thought in your heart so fair
please tell me what you want to share

Your speech so sweet within that grin
we've been together through thick and thin
come talk to me about anything

Precious jewel, light filled and rare
nothing, no one could ever compare
my life, my love, my answered prayer

Truth Chowder

Wake up the alarm is ringing
Wake up the birds are singing
Wake up, wake up, it's naked
honest truth I'm bringing

In your eyes shines the sun
Your smile starts the fun
In your laugh I come undone
In our arms we become one

Truth time feels so fine
Truth time yours and mine
Yeah, it's about truth and
it's about time

It's you singing in my heart
on your mark, get set, it's time to start
It's you dancing in my mind
glory how you make me shine
It's you living in my soul
your perfect love has made me whole

Truth time feels so fine
Truth time yours and mine
Yeah, it's about truth and
it's about time

Evening Omlettes

all of these fragile longings
return each year at flower time
they ride on the underside
of whispers inside rising prayers

my remembrance of lying
on your spring shadow's length
knowing the time's come
for scattering dream seeds
into honeysuckle winds
where rivers run, love flows
and
all that remains
is skin brushing skin
the setting light
within your eyes

Campfire Cooking

Cricket's lullaby rocks me sound asleep,
the dream does all the work
I hear prayers of thanks echo through
earth's universal church

Light a candle, plant a tree
Build an altar to truth and dignity
Birth the song life longs to hear
Sing each word, release all fear

Such joyous, glorious gifts resound in infinity
Now I am
complete again
with all you've given me

Self respect, new eyes to see
a poet's voice, creativity
A jigsaw puzzle to complete
United hands insert the final piece
Now I am complete again with all you've given me

Break Up Blues in 3 Parts

I.

You Left

your shoes behind

the couch bought together

before our love was canceled by

Cold Feet

II.

You Said

I live waiting

for fairy tale princes to 

come true, I still believe,
he's just...

Not You

III.

Clothespins

grab tear soaked sheets

hung dripping. Sun warms them

now only one swollen heart

left

to dry

Awakening's Coffee

Yawn song once the tune I crooned, in bed midnight clear through noon

Avoided sunlight, dark Ray Bans on, back to bed, all dreams are gone

Lived this life waiting and seeing, forgot my part in creating my being

No real rest restrained in tangled flannel, despondently surfing TV's countless channels

Lived this life waiting and seeing, forgot my part in creating my being

Then a voice not heard before hummed a soothing song, urging me, encouraging me,
"Come out and greet the dawn."

A bath of glowing skylight washed away life's misery,
this sleeping soul now shouting endless possibilities.

Love's awakening in me, inviting kind discovery
Loves awakening in me, answers every mystery
Love's awakening in me, life's joyful opportunities
Eternal bliss, forever freed, love's awakening in me