Wednesday, August 24, 2011

but if your heart flutters

But if only your heart became wings
transparently suspending the hummingbird,

but if only your heart became a moth
springing upon a chaotic meandering,

but if only your heart became eyelashes
tapping views into thoughts into view again,

but if only your heart became a leaf-
flag signaling autumn upon a twig,

but if only your heart became a candle flame
to strobe past visions of night,

but if only your heart became a bow
percussing trills to poetic strings,

but if only your heart became fingers
straining for increments of strength,

but if only your heart became a curtain
laced for the gazing wind,

but if your beat became only a flutter
we would hold it in our hands forever.

-for Robin, may your great heart beat strong.

DGG 8-24-11
photo: h.g. giese

Monday, August 22, 2011

guess again

Hitch a hike
lift with praise
pick a penny
reap a raise

what am I?

Point the finger
judge the sucker
name the owner
be the mother

what am I?

Flip this member
from a pocket
the longer the better
this bird will say f...orget-it.

what am I?

slip the band
onto the fourth one of the hand
but make the world understand
you aren't owned by any man

what am I?

the fifth is the grip
if too loose, it spills lids
if painful it will slip
or get hooked on a lip

what am I?

Shaking a fist
busting meat to the bone
cracking knuckles in a scrape? open palm
can give
or own...

This is a photo of therapeutic silver rings, used to improve alignment and function and  prevent further deformity in fingers damaged by arthritis.  Look up: "Silver Ring Splints" online.

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Serendipity in a paradox #11

Out of darkness          into light

Before the dawn,
the land is void
shifting between chasm
snd cliff face.

From undifferentiated darkness
a vaporlit film forms
in the vanishing points:
sourceless, pervasive.

Sensing massiveness
onyx edges
cut the firmament.

Moving into emerging
valleys, vales and voids:
envision indefinite shapes
into illuminated forms.

Hills metamorphosis
into volumes
to touch
and circumscribe.

The pearling vault
extrudes greens below
illusions of black.

cheeky clouds
blush to barely touch
the unseen sun.

Facing the evanescent
blooming dawn
gives the most brilliant
gift of sight.

Another take on the theme, it is always darkest before the dawn. May you find Serendipity when it comes your way

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Wordless Weds is my Tues Toes

I finally feels like summer here on the central coast of California, a noontime walk with a friend became a drenching sauna......Oh, and yeah, then there was the Green Man in the lawn....................

Monday, August 15, 2011

Serendipity in a paradox 10

Slight of Hands

Hands unpeeled by cancer scars
and wrought in knots, still knit wool scarves.

Healed too small, fingertips drop beam and ball,
but open the door, lift a child off the floor.

Puppet hand turns a toddler's bedlam
to Sherry Lewis's voice, transfixing lambs.

Nails are lengthened, painted, adorned,
until one's missed, then it's hardly ignored.

Her core radiates from her palm
to wick cold sweat like lavender balm.

His hands, broad as a pillow's spread,
can trace each hair upon a head.

Some injuries are losses, some are gifts. One door closes and another one opens.  I treat hands after injury or surgery at my work.  Until you can't use your hand, you don't realize what it does. A large proportion of your sensory brain and muscle control centers are dedicated to the hands and thumbs. Your hands have more bones than your back. Would you see a general orthopedic surgeon to operate on your back? No. But how many people go to a generalist when the hand is severely severed or broken?  The therapy following is equally complex, handled best by a Certified Hand Therapist with experience.

We learn to value what we have/had after it is taken away or damaged........
 May you recognize serendipity when it comes your way.

Saturday, August 13, 2011

sunday 160, when the moon hits your eye

       Open the orbs, howl with the owl, hold the bones, pound the drone, oscillate outside upon onyx loam, observe halos, owe the original olden opal, honor the moon.

photo: H.G.Giese

( This is a poem in exactly 160 characters, spaces included. Try it yourself and post on Sunday.  Visit the host with the most 160 tales on his blog, Monkey Man, at
and let us know about yours!)

Serendipity in a paradox # 9

Give me a full moon:

New moon, fresh sky, meteors flash to the naked eye.

Crescent sickle, piercing slate, a hanging handle to galaxy's gate.

Dark-masked half-moons, denying hidden blues.

Gibbous waxing full and ripe, fruit of loin and rounding high.

Ah, the moon's full-faced and seasoned, alive and vivid with clarity and reason.

(The moon is full tonight, unfortunately blocking the meteor shower view with its light.  There is beauty in a night with no moon, the crescent can be startlingly sharp and star-catching, the half-moon can change it's face, the full moon lights the night world, but obscures the milky way.
   So, enjoy all the stages of moon-viewing.)  
Which moon moves you the most?  Why?

Friday, August 12, 2011

serendipity in a paradox 8.

From above
is a sentinel's sight

from within
it's burning bright,

from the wind
driving arrow-like

to the heart
diving fast as light

to embrace
talon tight,

grounding spirals
landing upright

a supportive friend
with a falcon's might.

This was a California Red Tail Hawk, the largest local predatory bird.  On the coastline, the Peregrine falcon is it's counterpart.  This juvenile hawk tried to fly in the window at my clinic.  He spent the following hour sitting outside, stunned by the window glass.  He kept a close eye on us, but didn't retreat when we came up to him.  He just watched us move behind the glass, baffled. (eventually he flew away)

Thursday, August 11, 2011

Serendipity in a paradox # 7.

What you get from assuming:

Like holding your breath
when you’re about to get wet

Like wanting a prize
you know you won’t get

Like scooting out backwards
from under a bed

Like straining your eyes
in a cave full of webs

Like slapping a face
with pain and regret

Like losing the memory
of someone you’ve met

May you recognize serendipity when it comes your way.

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

Wordless Weds is my: Tuesday Toes

May you recognize serendipity when it comes your way.

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

serendipity in a paradox 6.

Only after one's fed,

satiated enough

to be free of

the cavernous


can one think about

feeding another, and

preparing the next meal.

What makes you feel satiated?

Saturday, August 6, 2011

serendipity in a paradox 5.

If you hear only one sound, without the image, can you hear the dichotomy within it, and love it for both:

purring and the mewing
rustling and the digging
blowing and sussurant
rumbling and hissing
rasping and tenor
guttural sighing.

(I've been studying a sound I love, and trying to describe it.  Without success, I can only draw analogies.  Isn't that why we write poetry?)

Can you guess, or create your own images to go with these sounds?  I know what mine are, what are yours?

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

serendipity in a paradox 4.

I walked with the moon tonight
a gold sickle:
sharp and bright.

She cradled his head
darkened, faceless
and dead, 

suns shone instead.

Wordless Weds. = Tues. Toes

Serendipity in a Paradox,  3.

Grounded in bronze, 
stillness is an art
I think.

(Rodin's Thinker's Feet, Philadelphia)