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 Jun 2014 Helen Raymond
r
Zen
 Jun 2014 Helen Raymond
r
Zen
Once told make good the promises of youth
I said **** that, let's see what this baby can do.
I read grasp by wing the empty sky
Said alright, now I'm flyin'.
Learned take to task the soil of earth
Worked my *** off, now I'm tired.
Overheard Sail by sea tho waves be high
Puked my guts out when I tried.
Preacher man said I should harvest the bounty of friendly ways
Uncle Sam taught me to shoot first and make friends when they are dead.
Poets say love requiting all your days
I've loved and learned a thing or two, then got left blue (can you blame 'em)
Philosophy 101 lesson learned Let age grace you with humility
Marlboro Red says that I'm the hottest cowboy in hell
Life's golden rule Grace this place with your tranquility
I've rocked and rolled my way all through.
One thing I've learned: life can be zen but zen is boring.
Zen's for old age, now's for roaring.

r ~ 6/1/14
\•/\
   |.    Rockin' in a free world.
  / \
 Jun 2014 Helen Raymond
r
Mime
 Jun 2014 Helen Raymond
r
Mime me a river
Silver with salmon
Running forever
Clear, cold and free.

Mime me a mountain
High as Montana
Headwater's fountain
Top clad in snow.

Mime me a meadow
Lush green with lark
Holding clouds' shadows
Fast in her arms.

Mime me a time
When sweet sky was open
And slow moon could climb
Shine right through the breeze.

Mime me a river
Silver with salmon
Running forever
Clear, cold and free.

r ~ 5/28/14
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   |
  / \
 Jun 2014 Helen Raymond
r
I close my eyes
Try to sleep
I see a wave of ink
A cloud of black
In water
No rhyme
No poem or verse
I'm going blind
I need a nurse
******* like cumuli
Hips as wide as a nautical mile
To get me back to sea
To help me see
To make me smile.

r ~ 5/26/14
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/ \
 Jun 2014 Helen Raymond
r
O, Traveller
They were glorious
Our boys in gray
Tho the blue carry this day
We shan't forget
No, never.

O, Traveller
Did you see them march
To beating drum
To smoke and fire
Our boys in gray
We shan't forget
No, never.

O, Traveller
This rain and mud
Virginia awaits in sorrow
The day is gray
For our boys
We shan't forget
No, never.

r ~ 5/26/14
\•/\
   |   Gen. Lee's horse. Spelled with 2 Ls
  /\. Traveller. The long road home  
          from Gettysburg
 Jun 2014 Helen Raymond
r
Train
 Jun 2014 Helen Raymond
r
No trains in this town
Not the passenger kind, anyhow
Unless you are a hobo
Riding the rail
Singing clickety-clack, clickety-clack
Dreaming of a girl
A pint of Beam
A lost dog named Woof
wearing a red bandana
Warm nights
Sunshine
Sweet Georgia.

r ~ 5/25/14
 Jun 2014 Helen Raymond
r
Today the sun stared down around me. The light I saw through wasn't of the yellowish warm kind, or the blue tinted light that speaks of summer coming, nor was it gray like those days that make me long for something else.

Today the light that I looked through was clear like mountain water. I saw the tree for what it is. A tree with hands that reach out to be touched. With leaves the air needs for breathing. A tree for perching.

Today I saw a snow-white butterfly upon a yellow daylili. The butterfly had no markings. The lili stood in the shade of my porch. I remembered that in the fall when butterflies chase each other, it will be time for the fishermen to gather their nets repaired during hot summer months and return to the sea. The white butterfly reminded me.

Today I saw a hummingbird with a ruby necklace darting around my empty feeder. The one hanging out front. I took it down and refilled it with cold sugar-water from my fridge that I keep in an old milk bottle. I refilled the one out back, too.

Today I watched a blue grosbeak splashing in a clear pyrex baking dish that I keep water for the birds in next to my feeders. The grosbeak bathed while a male cardinal watched, spitting sunflower seed hulls onto my wooden deck. A housefinch waited patiently for water and a turn at the mixed-seed feeder.

Today I saw ants crawling on the dried dead body of a wasp. This made me like the ants. They like their wasps dead. So do I. Eat up, guys, I thought.

Today I saw that the breeze had scattered petals from my rose bush across my porch. My dog dozed on the petals. That made me smile.  Reddish pink petals clinging to a black dog when she walked onto the grass. The breeze smelled of roses.

Today I saw clearly what the sun was staring down upon. Things that need watching. Remembering. Today, I saw through a light clearly.

5/25/14
\•/\
   |.    A gentle breeze day on my porch
  / \
 May 2014 Helen Raymond
Helen
there is nowhere else

I've said it on Facebook
but my family aren't friends
so they can't take a look

there is nowhere else

I sent you a text
Call me tomorrow
or the next, or the next

there is nowhere else

this is where I live
in my mind
Poetic verses
spill like curses
only the nonsense
I leave behind

there is nowhere else
I want to be written
nowhere else
I want to be heard
nowhere else*
where my heart
was first smitten
nowhere else
I think
I'm deserved

there is nowhere else
I need to be right now

there is nowhere else
I could be the why
but not the how

there is nowhere else
I want to be, but can't

there is nowhere else
to leave my heart
 May 2014 Helen Raymond
Helen
I Stopped to Pick a Flower

I saw today, a little Mayflower
blooming from the broken ground
born from a dry earth and dry eyes
It grew there without a sound

I stopped to smell, and maybe touch,
it's dewy visage was a delight
I saw today a little Mayflower
that had grown throughout the night

I'm sure I've said it a thousand times
Life comes with no guarantees
Don't weep for me, for the lesson you see, is I am that little Mayflower
I wrote this for you today because I'm sure that Janice would want you to know that it's important to stop and smell the flowers... I'm sure this was her last stop :)

a text message to a friend who just lost a friend to the insidious fiend that is Cancer....
 May 2014 Helen Raymond
Joe Cole
The battles finally over, the deck is rent and torn
By the shot and shell that struck us in the battle storm
So sew him in his hammock lads, put the last stitch through his nose
Place a roundshot at his feet then over the side he goes
This then is the way we say goodbye to our comrades of the ship
We never knew their real names, maybe Harry Tom or ****
Yes we gave our mate the deep six, he's now six fathoms down
Lying on the bottom on his final resting place the sand
No time yet to ponder on his untimely death
We must make and mend and make our ship the best
The last stitch through the nose: The sailmaker always put the last stitch through the nose to ensure the sailor really was dead
The deep six: Six fathoms or 36 feet was traditionally the minimum depth for a burial at sea
A round shot at his feet: This was to ensure that the body didn't float
Why were sailors called tars? Because most sailors of that era had a pigtail that was coated in tar hence the traditional square scarf that some sailors wear even to this day
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