Oh, neglected blog. Here are some poems from January.

1. Is it really a new, brand new sparkling new year?

It doesn't feel like it one bit.

Am I my same old self, as it seems,

Still full of foolishness, too full of dreams

That will possibly never come real.

But, no, that is too dark to really be true.

The dreams will happen just as they should do and

My life will be beyond glad.

So I will strengthen up this year,

Become bold and fierce,

And make the things I want into the things I want

Even if I don't know yet exactly what they are. 

I will be tomorrow's star,

The living proof that we are made to be exactly what we are.
~gsw.


4. Listen all, for you need to know
That you may not mess with me.
Yes, I seem all cosy and gentle, and soft
But I am not. Not always.
I will bring out all of the Texas within me
Should you try and change my mind,
And I will pull out every bit of the Myles Standish DNA
If you think you will touch anyone I love.
I have a long heritage of the very fiercest whalers and soldiers and sailers
And I will let them all out on you
Should you try to change my mind.
Oh, I seem all calm and warm and such a delight
But you should see me in the middle of the night.


8. I just greeted my new debit card by saying,
"Hello! we are going to have a lot of fun together the next 3 years!"

Don't know why I thought of it, but we are.
We'll buy pastries in places where I don't know how to ask for pastries,
We will get groceries, fill up the car to go who-knows-where,
Buy silly presents, order gardenias, and new music online.



We will also pay medical bills and buy condolence cards
Because the planet here is Bent,
But we will snatch up wedding gifts and new books, too.
We will eat lunch at Olympia's, buy a pint in Oxford, pick up some Swedish Fish for a friend, score
Concert tickets, and purchase an unfortunate nail-polish color. 

Dear debit card, we are going to have fun the next 3 years.

9. I am going to get a tattoo today
Which at age 46 seems so odd.
And for me it seems really crazy-odd.
But it will be word "yet;" right there
On my index finger, where I draw it nearly every day, anyway.
It is my favorite word.
When you are in Thailand people greet you with
"Have you had rice today, or not yet?"
"So, are you married, or not yet?"
I love it so much.
"Or not yet."
What a blessing of hope.
I am not the woman I want to be, yet.
The pastries are not done, yet.
You have not become all you are, yet.
The tomatoes in the garden are not ripe yet.
There is not peace in the Middle East, yet.
I have not met the man I will love with all I am, yet.
Very small word, such immense promise.
I want it inked right there on my hand.