Ready to Polka

Back straight

good posture

evident

the camera doesn’t lie.

Tripod: sisters each; all.

Caroline calls out

“Be your best self.”

Backs to the sun,

We know our mother’s teaching,

her gentlest urging

her kindest word

her most honest truth

her pushing hips

receiving seed

The farmer deep

in the fertile grasses

where Jesus walked

12 brothers bound

to the wisdom of their days;

the curled truths

of Jerusalem’s children.

Take off your shoes.

“Watch, the rocks can be slippery”

they caution

I walk

trout-rich stream

close to our harvest

water cress @

the mountain’s base.

Keystone state. [http://www.netstate.com/states/intro/pa_intro.htm]

Secure

In the bosom

Of their embrace

Every sister, woman, broad, floozy.

Among the posers.

the false positives

We do not know

the shame of privilege

power

presumption

We are

Mayfield’s daughters

Know our coal-mined

Truths.

©2010 right_hook/julie holley

Lincoln's Luck

Find a penny. Pick it up. All the day you'll have good luck.
What happens when you find 2?

Allende’s Voice: Pablo’s Posture

Santiago’s sun
was just beginning
to reveal itself

I scanned the heavens
surveying a city
first served up
in the context of
Allende http://www.ted.com/talks/isabel_allende_tells_tales_of_passion.html
Neruda http://nobelprize.org/nobel_prizes/literature/laureates/1971/neruda-bio.html

Chile’s beauty;
her honesty
his delight

Rooted in my mind
as certain as
The Andes

Today, I stand
amongst my kin, friend-folk
The People
of Concepción
God’s wrath
cast upon
the coast
Port Au Prince
Our collective memory.

Secretary Clinton
President Bachelet

Slip
into something comfortable
work out
the details

with a prayerful hope

Of re-Dedicating
The temple


©2010 julie holley/right_hook

in the year 5770

i was born an imperfect child.

i wonder how they told my mother?

when she first held me, did she see a beautiful baby?

or was she alarmed
instantly
by how much she knew
she failed
to be the sort of person
she would need to be

to navigate
my obvious
flaw

veronica taught me
to be
self-accounting

to make sure
my actions mattered

that what i did
or failed to do

could mean the difference
between winning the girl

and losing the fight

next month,
i will be reminded of
the woman
who bore the struggle
of bringing me

into the reality
of reminders

that on yom kippur

in the year 5770

i look upon all that is holy
and say:

forgive me

if i have torn
any
fibre

of our link.

i see that you are single

disconnected in a sense

from how much
i seek your forgiveness
each and everyday

because when i look @ myself
in the morning
in the mirror
i see it

imperfect me.

Cardmember Agreement

It’s in the fine print:
the meaning, our intent, your rights, responsibilities.

Black letters, white space backdrop.

Read it for yourself. Have your lawyer check into it.

Are you up for it?

Get this straight: We. Us. Our.

You. Your. Yours.

We hope you aren’t offended by our initiative — letting you know where you stand.

Pay on time or you’ll wind up an unhappy debtor. We promise.

Every November

Every November, I remember my father.

Most especially, I remember his kindness; that thing he kept in his heart.

My father appreciated simplicity.

He loved his children, his wife.

On summer nights, he liked an ice-cold beer with his dinner.

He liked his eggs scrambled.

He liked his friends to be true.

Every November, the air takes on a chill and I remember my father — In my mind’s eye, he and I are outside; air escapes from my father’s mouth, bent as he is, on a conversation.

Watching him speak

I think about his heart, his lungs.

Breathing in, my father’s chest rises and I think:

“How wonderful God, giver of life.”

It doesn’t last —— the breathing.

Eventually my father’s heart, his lungs gave out; cancer the cause.

We mourned when the angels took him home.

We cried tears of sorrow.

Every November, on the day my father died, I make a point of remembering my father’s life, not his grave.

I remember his commitment to loving well and earnestly.

Every November, I give pause to a man whose life helped form mine. . . . Whose hands held mine when walking was new to me.

So it is in my memory my father lives.

It is in my mind I see him clearly.

Strong.

Calm.

Smiling.

Every November.

Choose

In the United States, the 2 parties ( as pictured here, employing the fine folk art of http://thecartbeforethehorse.blogspot.com ) go head to head in the voting booth. Be you for the Democrats or the Republicans, what is crucial is this: GET OUT THE VOTE.