Category: HAIKU

RANDOMLY ON THE MOON

~ LouLou ~ Leave a comment

  • MOON OVER LA.

Her destiny arrived just past midnight

Next to a burning red candle

The wholeness of empty by her side

Insight living inside

Does not lay blame or cause pain

A spoonful of teenage reminiscence

I want to be alone

The foreshadowing future looms

In the twilight of a waxing gibbous moon.

YOUR GRATEFUL OR YOU ARE NOT

~ LouLou ~ 1 Comment

  In a Sunday silence, she hopscotches  to a  nuance in 2018 when a handsome man offered a hand of conversation.

He walked with her and stopped in front of a Spanish Colonial residence shrouded in exotic flora and fauna.

โ€œ Thatโ€™s where I live,” he said keenly.

โ€œ How long have you lived there? she asked

โ€œ Thirteen years. I am so grateful for my home.โ€

She silenced her thoughts, less thankful of her dome.

She once lived on a street

Of serenity and beauty

Her view was scoured with a sightlessness of New Mexican history  

Unshaken by the homes regal display

 To live without grateful when your basket is complete.

Is like living in blindness from head to foot.

ALL THERE IS TO LOVE

~ LouLou ~ Leave a comment

He pushed her on a swing, so high she touched the sky, viewed the world through his eyes, lived for a time without lies, then as mystically he appeared, he let go of the swing, and she fell on her wing, broken but with the will to begin again. A broken heart hasn’t stopped her from loving him.

For ten days she stared unblinking, just thinking of her spoken words, how they made their way to his ears and returned the sounds she so wanted to hear. She wiped the tears as some people find love at the core of their fears. The strain of regaining her former spiraling spirit and beating heart may not come for months. She says to herself out loud, ‘it must, I must.’ As written, sung, painted, and performed for hundreds of years, love is undefinable as it is something supernatural.

ISADORA DUNCAN

MOVING WITH MILES

~ LouLou ~ 1 Comment

Listening to Miles I imagine my pen moving on paper in straight lines and indentations. The beak of the pen breaks out of its shell and abstractions of thought spill. Without prior meditation, feelings form the thoughts. Emotion versus reasoning. Miles musical pen is all emotion. That’s Jazz music!

GALLERY LOULOU 8 2012K 001

 

LIGHTS ON SANTA FE

~ LouLou ~ 2 Comments

 

A NATIVE AMERICANย  LIGHT SHOW.

YOU CAN BECOME WHO YOU DREAMED OF, DO WHAT YOU DREAMED OF IN SANTA FE , because Santaย  Feans do not care.

I heard this slogan a lot when I first moved here seven years ago.ย  My understanding was vague, unrealized, and I didnโ€™t think much about it untilย  this winter.ย ย  I began toย  approach strangers,ย  walk across the street to the spa in a robe,ย  orย  leave my pajama top under my sweater because I like the texture of it.
I’veย  givenย  up the diving board of scrutiny and plunge into the dreamy, stony,ย  outdated, simplistic extravagance, and unrealistic vibe of Santa Fe.

I keep dreaming, and preparing,ย  with a face blotched red by cold, that THE LIGHTS, SHADOWS,ย  MOON AND CHARACTERS ARE MY BROADWAY FOR NOW.ย ย  NOT FOREVER. EVERYTHING CAN BE TEMPORARY IF WE TAKE ADVENTURES IN LIVINGNESS.