I haven't written much blogworthy lately, but my older son has been creating entertaining videos. If you'd like to kick back and not think too seriously, these videos are for you :-)
Pain and Trees
Added by Heidibeth on October 4, 2017 at 11:30am —
I haven't been around here much lately. For the last year, as far as writing goes, I've been gathering poems for a second collection and getting them ready to be seen. It's time. We Walk with Poetry Every Day is now available for Kindle and in print. …
Added by Heidibeth on February 27, 2017 at 2:30pm —
He walked about ten paces behind his mom, lifting first his right foot, then dragging his left, over and over. Thump, whoosh, thump, whoosh. If he had to tag along on boring errands, fine, but he'd have fun with it.
This time he'd been injured in the war, heroically of course. He'd saved his entire regiment. Back in the barracks they'd celebrated with key lime pie.
Thump, whoosh, thump, whoosh.
“Jeremy, will you please lift your feet when you walk! Are you hurt or just… Continue
Added by Heidibeth on March 9, 2016 at 10:30pm —
Poetry falls out of grief on a clear day
with an invitation, a single thread
leading back to truth you hardly remember, for good reason.
Woven in will be the moments
you couldn’t hold at the time,
so dense were they with the threat of loss
and need to shoulder your life regardless.
Then there they’ll be,
perfect snapshots blooming
in your hands with an…
Added by Heidibeth on January 4, 2016 at 7:11pm —
If it’s an old sadness, your edges are haunted.
I only know that I don’t know. I am waiting.
Years pass wrapped around a sweet life
I barely show up for.
When I find the hour of separation,
I see a slow slope away from everything I love,
a slow rise of looking for my smile
in other people’s faces.
As if they knew.
Are you my happiness?
In between, solitude silences
the echoes of all I’ve given away.
Added by Heidibeth on August 5, 2015 at 8:08pm —
yellow paint changes things Continue
the poet’s words are more of a tinkering matter
silence sounds like ceiling fans and espresso filling tiny glasses
i eat the silence one breath at a time
Added by Heidibeth on November 17, 2014 at 7:30pm —
I tried to make Almond-Butter brownies vegan once before, with sucanat as the sugar. It didn't work out. The sucanat granules were crunchy and the brownies didn't rise as I would have liked. So I gave up the idea. Until today. Just as I began making the standard recipe, I thought of a friend of a friend who has chosen a vegan diet. A second later it occurred to me that I use coconut sugar now and it might dissolve better. Then I realized I could simmer the coconut sugar and coconut milk and… Continue
Added by Heidibeth on July 2, 2013 at 6:11pm —
I like to eat cookies, especially with my morning coffee. I sit alone outside our RV in the day’s first light, listen to the birds sing, stare off into my thoughts and eventually pick up my laptop and begin the new-age conversation that has become a near-necessity to so many; checking email, drafting a blog post, scrolling facebook, all while Pandora plays Native American flute music or lively Bluegrass depending on my…
Added by Heidibeth on March 14, 2013 at 1:00pm —
Out here in the desert, land crunches beneath my feet. I hear it amplified in the vast space on every side. Once, not long ago, that hollow sound of walking on dry stone and sand would haunt me, remind… Continue
Added by Heidibeth on January 25, 2013 at 6:00pm —
We played catch in the only square of grass in the whole big campgrounds. Fortunately it is right next to our RV. Lucky us! “Play catch” was actually an item on our to-do list. My husband and I realized we'd been on a streak of doing and needed to be on-purpose about being, especially with our kids.
Earlier in the afternoon the boys had all gone to play shuffleboard. I stayed in the quiet of our small home, listening to much-needed nothing in particular. After a while, I prayed, then… Continue
Added by Heidibeth on January 17, 2013 at 10:38pm —
I'm angry (finally), unable to "let it be what it is." Tears stream down my cheeks. I'm pounding the steering wheel, grateful the grocery store is only a few blocks away. Damn it! I want my mom to tell me it was okay how everything played out even though I know there was blatant neglect/ignoring the obvious on the part of some of her medical staff, and that these errors contributed to (caused?) her body having too much to deal with (more than once when she was actually beginning to heal)… Continue
Added by Heidibeth on January 14, 2013 at 2:30pm —
We met when we were eight and nine.
Allison and I used to wander through clothing aisles for fun. We'd search for the ugliest article, hold it up for the other to see across the way, make… Continue
Added by Heidibeth on January 10, 2013 at 6:58pm —
Some gentle and profound shift happens when you're one of three strangers sharing the campground
laundromat and after several minutes of friendly small talk and just as you're about to head back to
your children, first one, and then the other, says words you know you heard right, though you wish they
were never uttered.
She said, “I lost my son in Iraq.”
She said, “Oh, yes, I understand. I lost one of my sons too. He was twenty.”
Time does… Continue
Added by Heidibeth on January 5, 2013 at 6:30pm —
Mid December we left central Illinois and went on a seven day trek across the country, landing in our Southwestern camping spot where we plan to spend at least a few weeks.
My younger son was truly sad to miss out on snow, but lucky for him we spent a night in Flagstaff just in time for their first big snow, which collected on and around our RV all night. It took two people, navigating and shoveling, to get us out of our overnight spot.…
Added by Heidibeth on January 1, 2013 at 5:00pm —
I'm going to write something because I'm tired of listening to the non-thoughts in my head and waiting passively for some external goodness to lift me out of this time of needing to be patient. Never mind that I could sing, or laugh on purpose, or that these insights have only come since I started tapping away at keys. I could sing Janis Joplin like we used to, even though the intense, naive longing won't be the background and foundation of my emotions the way they were when Allison and I… Continue
Added by Heidibeth on December 29, 2012 at 9:20pm —
In the soft light of morning, I know it is time to move my laptop, coffee and phone to the couch, wrap our soft green blanket around my shoulders, turn up the heat, open the shades for the window right beside me (leaving the others closed as a kind of protective womb, a shelter from the world) listen to soft, sweet music and experience gratitude as easily as I breathe. I am in my nest, a place I haven't been able to appreciate for months, though it has been here… Continue
Added by Heidibeth on December 27, 2012 at 1:12pm —
She's wanted to be carried on the wind for years,
and like a near-nothing, almost evaporate,
to be as thin as the color gold and for a while,
be thoughtless, empty, unshakable,
just there enough to feel when the breeze,
a motion of both autumn and spring,
begins to move across the earth.
It's that she wants it to kiss her cheek, Continue
an assurance, a gift of contentment
that can come from the outside
and for which she does not have to…
Added by Heidibeth on December 20, 2012 at 9:00pm —
There's a poem in Amarillo,
miles from the lone tumbleweed
I saw rolling east beside the road
as we rolled toward the setting sun.
It is a wide open, brown-land,
as-we-head-southwest, almost lonely
kind of thing that includes making brownies
in a big field shared with a few scattered Rvs.
A green-shirted, long-haired boy paces Continue
back and forth beside me,
chanting a story he makes up
Added by Heidibeth on December 16, 2012 at 7:00pm —
A poem can be put off for only so long
before it begins to thin at the edges,
fade and seem to be about to float away,
until I wonder if there are any words left.
Waiting for certainty, holding out
for a long quiet afternoon
or at least the mind to begin,
to wade into those waters,
camp my being in the place
where my heart is willing
to speak to me in more than shy glances. Continue
I am patient, aware of the immensity of …
Added by Heidibeth on December 2, 2012 at 6:00pm —
I folded my hands, closed my eyes and whispered, “Mom, I know poetry isn't your thing, or at least the non-rhyming stuff I write, but if you're able, can you help me with a title?”
Less than a minute into the silence that followed, the words, “Love Story, Love Story, Love Story” echoed in my head with static edges, amplified and… Continue
Added by Heidibeth on November 26, 2012 at 6:00pm —