Thursday, December 30, 2010

Attraction distraction
reaction to friction
restricted conflicted

Sexual tension
evasion of reason
explosion of passion

Afflicted seduction
fraction satisfaction
disillusion complication


Monday, December 6, 2010

for words alone do not change a life
without time and space to contemplate
listen to a network
more interior than any other
let go of what has bound us
give strength to those around us
nothing less can change this
there will always be loss

Friday, December 3, 2010

The Spirit In Waiting

The call came on New Year's Day. Mother had been admitted into hospice after struggling with metastasized lung cancer for six months. My sister and I arranged to stay with her, packed a few necessities and rushed to Fond du Lac as soon as we could.

When we arrived that evening, we were amazed at the warm and friendly environment of Hope. It felt comfortable and familiar, although I had never been there before. Mom was in a private room with a home-like feel and greeted us with a strained smile.

“I am so glad you are both here with me,” she said.

My sister and I bunked up in the room with her for the next few days. The staff were compassionate, understanding and helpful. One afternoon a volunteer brought in a huge harp and began playing softly for us. The music was beautiful and brought tears to my eyes, although it was not a melancholy melody.

Mother lost consciousness during the third day, and that was when we all started praying for the end to come mercifully soon. The days grew longer and many family members came and went, but still mother hung on.

On the fifth day, in the late afternoon, I was sitting beside Mother's bed reading aloud to her from a book called Tuesdays with Morrie. My feet were propped up on a folding chair, and it was to this chair that my attention was suddenly drawn, as if some intangible force was quietly whispering in my ear. I stopped reading in mid sentence and looked up. The skin on my arms began to tingle as I felt a presence hovering there; a barely visible shimmering glow. I immediately pulled my feet off the chair with a feeling of embarrassment like that of touching a stranger's hand in a crowded place.

I had never seen or felt anything like this before, but somehow I knew in my heart that this was a spirit sent to help my family in this difficult time. A sense of quiet peace washed over me as I realized that the spirit was my grandfather's, my mother's father, whom I had never in my life known as he had died before I was born. I smiled with the realization, and the apparition grew brighter and more visible. I could feel a warm and loving sensation surround me like a tight embrace after years of separation. Somehow I knew that Grandfather's spirit was smiling as well.

Suddenly I was overcome with emotion. Through my tears I pleaded silently with my grandfather to free my mother and take her spirit with him. I told him that she was waiting for him. Grandfather laughed, or at least I felt him laugh, and again I became calm and peaceful.

I am waiting for her to be ready to leave,” Grandfather's spirit said.

A tear rolled down my cheek. I looked over at Mother, lying there at peace for the moment, and I knew this to be true, though I wondered what she was waiting for.

When I looked back, there was nothing. Just an empty chair. I could no longer feel my grandfather's presence, but I knew he must still be there somewhere. I looked around the rest of the room, as though he may have merely gotten up to stretch his invisible legs and get a cup of coffee.

My sister came in shortly after and asked me if everything was alright. I did not tell her about my experience. We talked briefly about what we thought Mother might be waiting for. Nearly all the family had already come to say goodbye.

My niece, Alison, who was almost three years old had been to Hope with us, but had not been in to see her grandmother for fear of upsetting the young child. On the morning of the seventh day, my sister and her husband gave Alison a telephone and dialed the number to my mother's room. I held the receiver to Mom's ear while Alison's parents encouraged her to say hello to Grandma. Instead, Alison sang her favorite song with gusto.

Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, Gramma Marge; Happy birthday to you!”

Mother passed away moments after receiving this call. She had been waiting to hear the sweet voice of her only grandchild.

In loving memory of Margaret Meta Kirsch-Farley. December 3, 1947 – January 7, 2006

Friday, November 26, 2010


The Universe is on my side today. 
Not only did I find my lost earring-
my favorite pair,
which I thought was forever doomed to be unworn
simply because I have two ears-
but fate also smiled on me enough to keep the car running-
dash lights on,
power steering out,
all these funny clunking and squealing sounds-
all the way until I turned the corner and had to roll up into the driveway,
using the last bit of momentum left in the wheels to inch into the garage. 
Sometimes life can be good, even when you think it is mediocre at best.

Saturday, November 6, 2010


Nothing new
about new moon-
surrounding me,
engulfing me in nothing

Who am I
to break the cycle?
can I never
full circle
without a half ass attempt?
I am not telling
anyone's guess.

I feel like the world
can be under my wing;
everything can be distracting,
I don't want to retract
the queen of everything.

A courtly group
staring me in the face
without so much as a glimpse
into the past
or really even the future-
just a quick slap in the face.
I am faced with a struggle
more sinister than you know;
no matter how I look at it
I am in the undertow.
The surf is surrounding me,
engulfing me
until I am totally under

Yet I can breathe-
I can even see
the little markings left behind
by all the rest of the worlds
leaving a trace
of what is to come-
without a place
to covertly hide

Friday, October 29, 2010


passion pulls me closer
despite a distinct notion to slow down
plunging in
pulling back
letting go
into each others arms

Monday, October 25, 2010

Physical Love

Thinking of your touch...
hungry hands devouring my body
caressing my most intimate
flesh hot with desire
to feel your strong fire.

Thursday, October 21, 2010


I remember your face
from somewhere in a dream
or memory so long ago faded
like an old photograph
not smiling
but a sad, longing look
staring deep into my soul.

Now drawn to you,
held in your arms
a fleetingly familiar feeling
pulls me closer
allows me to let go
for one brief second
then relentless reason
slides between us,
returning to the present.

My thoughts remain with you,
as I have been in yours,
and I wonder
what became of these lonely lovers
in a life long ago forgotten?

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

tomorrow's dreams, yesterday's garbage

who the hell thought up this system
of rights and wrongs
of dollars and sense
this way of life
is slowly dying
at the hand of big media
big medical
big money
and small towns
small businesses
family and individuals
suffer in the wastelands
created by these conglomerates

who the hell wants to continue
in this so called society
where the only thing that matters
is material
the only thing that has worth
is worthless
and the things that are truly precious
are cast aside in swollen trash bins
tomorrow's dreams
treated like yesterday's garbage

Friday, October 15, 2010

Alarmed Robbery

everyone is finally nestled down in their beds
not one
not two
no less than five fire and rescues
scream past the house

send a police car too, boys
cuz I've just been robbed!