Passover

Death girdled

The innards of my soul

Tears pierced, fury bridled

Youth’s fool, hearts’ toll

 

The innards of my soul

Hope floundered, Grace grasped

Youth’s fool, hearts’ toll

Above your door, there is a task

 

Hope floundered, Grace grasped

Faded blue, trimmed yellow

Above your door, there is a task

Blood boiling as Othello

 

Faded blue, trimmed yellow

The artists’ hand must speak the heart

Blood boiling as Othello

Nature’s beauty will never part

 

The artists’ hand must speak the heart

Brilliant orange with streams of yellow, as chiffon

Nature’s beauty will never part

Beneath the horizon, a song of frisson

 

Brilliant orange with streams of yellow, as chiffon

Orbed fashions of beet juice red

Beneath the horizon, a song of frisson

A root grounded, wings spread

 

Orbed fashions of beet juice red

Merlot grapes upon the fringes

A root grounded, wings spread

A velvet cloak from within

 

Merlot grapes upon the fringes

Circular patterns are no more

A velvet cloak from within

Four letters over the door

 

Circular patterns are no more

One less, love lost

Four letters over the door

Wrongs placed upon the cross

 

One less, love lost

Isis, miracle of life

Wrongs placed upon the cross

To live in peace, not in strife

 

Isis, miracle of life

City scenes within her name

To live in peace, not in strife

Only one remains unstained

 

City scenes within her name

London, Paris, Venice, all tainted

Only one remains unstained

New Jerusalem holy, sainted

 

London, Paris, Venice, all tainted

Tears pierced, fury bridled

New Jerusalem holy, sainted

Death girdled

Kimberley Formosa © 2012

Pellucid

Upon your last exhalation I hovered

over your empty beautiful vessel

while the warmth of your spirit cloaked me as a

heavy woolen blanket. Our last

communication of love will remain in

existence within the very fibers

that constitute this being of whom you have

invested so many of your

days here upon this dusty soil. Our last

earthly consumption, to drink of your love,

your grace, your prayers. A spirit which has reached the

heavens on high yet continues

to linger within my soul. I aspire, hope

to walk that path destined eternally

Kimberley Formosa © 2012

Pellucid Peace by Dorothy Bruce

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2011 in review

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2011 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

A San Francisco cable car holds 60 people. This blog was viewed about 3,100 times in 2011. If it were a cable car, it would take about 52 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.

Kite Strings

I

do

k

n

o

t

k     n     o     w

?

I

am

l

y

i

n

g

h     e     r     e

in

p

"Defeat" Yvonne Palermo

*

a

*

i

*

n

*

*

*

*

*

*

*

Let    it    go

D           n                I            g

A           c               N

to

Heaven

Kimberley Formosa©2011

Joy, Sorrow, Hope

1

A young child

a grandson

two years old

sitting

in the front seat

behind the wheel

of a convertible

with the roof

d

o

w

n

the sun out

skies of blue

with Grandma

sitting

at his side

bounteous smiles

heaped

with love

Grandpa

at his other side

standing outside

of course

cause grandbaby

has it all

under control

2

pale with

reddened eyes

as though she slept

upon clenched fists

long unkempt hair

dirty clothes

her body crying

for more heroin

crying

I could feel her

writhing pain

in the middle of town

the sun out

skies of blue

she bent down

picking up a

ha

lf

smoked cigarette

we each caught

a glimpse of the other

she looked down

again

maybe in shame

I looked up

again

maybe with hope

and a prayer

for her life

3

There we were

crossing the

Hot Metal Bridge

all along

the entire span

were strung

red

white

lace

beige

teal

striped

purple

polka-dotted

black

pink

Photo by Ed Rieker for Aerie by American Eagle

floral

bras

bras in every color

every texture

every cup size

all strung there

high above

the sun out

skies of blue

hope gleaming down

wishing

breast cancer

far, far, away

Kimberley Formosa © 2011

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Tomorrow

For Mary Saflin who was 72, Kimberly Griffith who was 45, and her two daughters, Brenna, age 12 & Mikaela, age 8.

Five days after

their lives were lost

I drove along

Washington Boulevard

Loss hit me as I

Realized

Destruction

Benign

Debris strewn

Precariously

by Raging waters

in a place they

did not belong

upon grassy areas

in the woods

dry mud upon the road

where rain

had pelted the earth

whose belly

could hold no more

Swollen

Engorged

every weakness

Divulged

this road became

a wild

Phantom river

I cried

I prayed

I turned my head

and learned

just how high

those waters were

I wonder why the leaves survived?

the leaves of the bushes

and trees were

Painted by an

Artist of Death

dried earth

high upon the trees

there was one leaf

that had dried mud

only half way up

this was the place where

Devastation resigned

Tomorrow

rain will fall

Tomorrow

rain will attempt

to take away

Memories of today

wiping away

the bits of dried earth

from where

they don’t belong.

Kimberley Formosa © 2011

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Somerset Courthouse Memorial

September 14, 2001

Jets flying

Tabitha Rogers, 8, carries flags while helping prepare for a 9/11 memorial.

Tears streaming

Hearts united

Hands held

Prayers rising

Candles burning

We are America

Fathers

Mothers

Sisters

Brothers

Rich

Poor

Stand together

Side by side

Helping

Caring

Committed

We are America

Kimberley Formosa © 2011

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What I Am

Without you.

loneliness

within

has claimed me

completely

which helps

this pen

to pour its ink

upon these

pages

words from a wounded heart

which has realized

the truth

of the years

which do not lie

the dreams of a soul

which has learned

to appreciate

Life size statue of a woman at Oak Grove Cemetery in La Crosse, Wisconsin

the bitterness

of the tears

which stain

my cheeks

Tis true

we lie our heads

down to sleep

under the same moon

Tis true

the sun rises

each morning

kissing the dew away

every day

without you

Kimberley Formosa © 2011

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A Blue Heart

That is all it was

The Willow Tree Fountain. Chatsworth.

Just a few days

Not a lifetime

A collision of emotion

escorted by memories

strengthened by

loneliness

likened to the force

of a glorious fountain

wit and wisdom

immediately

smothered

the flow of life

Hope of affection

Fell incredulously

Deserved

Broken

Understood

Never to be forgotten

Kimberley Formosa © 2011

Waning

There he was

surprising me

with a wink

and a great

bright smile

of joviality

just a few inches

above the

eastern horizon

beckoning the

blackened

star struck

sky

to graciously

bear lovely

hues of blue

so my prayers

may bring

me back

to this desert

placed along

side the Pacific

as it thunders

upon its’ edges

sending breezes

to caress me

as I close my eyes

to dream

Kimberley Formosa © 2011