Silver Squirrels

Without you alive, We have a complicated relationship
Guitar, keyboard, multi track console no longer
react to your fine strong musician hands

Just as the Silver New Mexican Squirrel
tries to select a host that is the least toxic
we sought that in each other and tried
to mitigate the poison in our work environment

When you come to me now
as a Ponderosa Pine Loving Squirrel:
It feels to taunt me!

Was it you who stood in the doorway
dressed in Silver Costume?
Was it you who slowly crossed the kitchen tiles?
Was it you who spread the contagious
but necessary spores into my new life?

When my mutation is complete
we will encircle the Gila Forest
pupate in the secret Kiva
adopt Mimbres culture
and slowly return to Being Human

The Glow

trembling from the cool night air

he awoke with a start

confused, his mind started to

reassemble a sense of where he was

a forest surely, and oh yes,

on a walk in the late afternoon heat,

tired, he laid down just to rest

an effortless sleep

followed his slowing mind.

penetrating the darkness

a faint light, a glow

voices quietly chanting

something unfamiliar

something comforting

he rose and stumbled

towards it

he was not alone

small and not-small animals

drawn to this, this, he wasn’t sure

but he did know his soul wouldn’t

be complete without …

Ouija Board

How smooth the hand of God as it
glides across the Ouija Board

13 stood naked that virgin night
clothes ignored near cold feet

They crossed the graveyard in pitch black
running to The Tree
 
A delicate wrought iron fence encircles it 
ancient by all accounts and
no bigger than the human form

"From her heart it sprang" was whispered
no one knew the rituals origin, just 
that is must be performed 

Yellowed headlights shaft through the forest
scorching full blown milky innocence
scattering the moths burnt by the flame

 ouija     ouija     ouija
 

Word Spider

The word spider crept across the page

turning this way, turning that way

looking for the meaning of its existence

and placing one leg down a little too hard

as if stepping on thin ice

cracks spread out in every direction

she did not fall through

but it was more than she could handle

shrinking back to her corner

she pondered what it all meant

A New Consequence

This is the beginning.

Would this also be the end?

Moving on

The blog "In Response To You" as produced my Brian Bielefeld and Tru Dillon will be saying our
Goodbys. We have done this blog since May of 2011. We did not know each other when we started this project. We would write our posts without consultation of each other. Once a month we would get together and do a recap of the months postings. These meetings would be quite lively as we learned what the other had meant or did not mean in their post. We learned how we can as humans assume too much or not enough when not in actual contact with each other.  We would talk about how we felt about each others post and what had prompted us to write our response in the blog.
This project has been a long and interesting journey. Through many emotions and personal situations we have persevered and continued to write to each other. One lesson learned is this: it is difficult to produce a creative work on a timetable. We had it set up so we would try to respond the next day. We did not always meet that mark, but we did create some beautiful works that would otherwise have not been known.
We present this small slice of our time together to you, our readers, and hope you will find some things of worth. To get the most of what this blog has been about, start at the beginning: May 14, 2011 with this first post called,
take your pick

Candlemas

Candlemas, February 2nd, the feast of lights, The commemoration of the presentation of the baby Jesus At the temple. More importantly it marks the Half way point of winter. Six and a half weeks Until the calendar marks the beginning of spring So much for the shadow or not of the illustrious Ground Hog. No matter, it's sunny today, seems like Spring.

Reduximus

REDUXIMUS

like a baby

a cat sleeps like a baby

all day long

and then at night

she roams the house

jumps on the bed

sniffs my ear

licks my cheek

and I wonder why

I can’t sleep.

Sleep like a baby

Forget who said what or what was wanted to be said.
Move around alot during the day.
Have someone or something soft and cuddly next to you.
Sensual soft somatic breeze enters, say thank you.
Invite amniotic dreams.
Smile, sleep like a baby.

the crack of light

when we leave the day of

            hopes and fears

we enter the soft night

            a dream field with its

sadness and resignation

only to wake and

repeat the cycle again and again

            until at last we stumble

upon the crack, the sliver

            of light which will

lead us home

Sleep

The world out         there        sometimes it doesn't exist

 

                  when the noose of night begins its quiet hold

        there is a ghost over your shoulder

and you, do not even know it

Needlepoint

Mrs. Lindemeyer sat down at her work table. This is not the famous Mrs. Gladys Lindemeyer that you are undoubtedly thinking of, the one who is known for her dinner parties and her back yard full of dwarf lemon trees, the one who conducts classes in knitting. This is Mrs. Harriet Lindemeyer. She is actually the lesser known sister-in-law. While Gladys knits, Harriet does needlepoint. Gladys has boxes full of unwanted frumpy scarves, while Harriet creates exquisite landscapes of rolling hills complete with cattle, barns, farmers driving tractors. Her work has even been displayed at the American Folk Art Museum in New York. She started this craft when she purchased Rosey Grier's Needlepoint for Men on EBay. She had been fascinated by the title. It was one of those rare events that happen to a fortunate person when grace drops something in their lap and changes them forever.

Sunday Supper

We had Sunday Supper at the Lindemeyers
while I am trying to go Vegan as well as Gluten Free
I ate the baby pot roast and the Sourdough bread

Not wanting to offend Mrs. Lindemeyer
I sat for 60 minutes while she taught me how to knit
strands of gray merino still cling to my wedding ring

Cabernet Sauvignon called my name sweetly so I drank
and got drunk listening to the men plainly and neatly
discuss everything that was important

As we rounded out the night with a tour of the yard
a grove of miniature lemon trees made me happy
I took home a brown paper sack full of yellow joy

bitter orange

The slow flapping of curtains

a half open window

the scent of bitter orange

carried in on notes from Brian Eno

and so the passing of winter

vernal hopes reach out

past the confines of my heart