RV Poetry

Your Life, Perhaps?

paper dolls
twilight moon
spoon fed gravy
call of the loon

army men
rattan hills
spoon fed oatmeal
call of the Jills

childhood once
a-dult-hood
spoon fed carrots
ideas, should

circles lean
squares collapse
spoon fed words
a heart’s relapse

MeeAugraphie
09/05/08

When storms loom and paths change and more storms threaten and paths again play games, adrenalin surges built up wreak havoc in the calm that overruns the storm and that’s my excuse for excessive posts and I’m sticking to it. Wonder if I will have any adrenalin left when I really need it?

Tags: A Glimpse at Lives

Absorption


She stands quiet
absorbing the wind
enjoying the silence
of those merely not home
ignoring the shuttered windows
of those no longer living

it is a moment
of peaceful release
of confident anticipation
of shared power with crashing waves

small plane circling
pilot unseen
is but a soothing distraction
of colors and sound
yet cars driven by
are a reminder
of movement in life

the sliver of a moon above
joins forces with lamps
in partial shroud
to allow vision
of once quiet waters
showing unexpected force

she stands quiet
absorbing….

MeeAugraphie
09/04/08

I posted I was tired of signing as MeeAugraphie; it is true, but because my poems come from within with out planning, I suppose my signature should come from the same place. So, be they signed MeeAugraphie or Marcia McLees Bogaert, they are from within me. Perhaps, someday I will see the pattern and understand the why of instinct - at least my own.

Tags: Absorption, listening, Poetry

No matter what our dreams are, no matter if they are small dreams, temporary dreams, or humongous dreams, for most of us, there are times they seem impossible. It may be merely a shadow of doubt, or a full scale attack on our emotions, but it happens. Even when our now dreams are closer or we have succeeded at prior dreams, it weighs us down.

I did not contact Born Free yet. I know many would say, just do it, the money will come… I know, but the house is still hanging out by itself, allowing us to throw our money away on a house that stands ignored, so to speak. So, lack of sleep and frustration leads me back to my poetry. It is National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo), after all.

So, even as I lament one dream that remains not yet lived, I live another: my poetry and blog dreams are alive and kicking!

Relegated Memories

Her mind wanders past memories
of smiles worn, laughter shared,
past trips planned and dreams madeto stop on what-if-not  a dreary place where laughter curdles,
smiles sag like clothes too big
for a single body to fill,
and dreams fade, corners bend,
edges tatter -  Unfit for keeping in mind’s forefront,
she relegates them to rot
in desperation’s pile,
saved for the distant moment when enough.becomes.enough and self-preservation
lights the darkened corner
just enough to.read.between

faded lines of dreams

Marcia McLees Bogaert
04/28/08

Please, remember, all words and photos by Marcia McLees Bogaert unless otherwise noted. Honor my copyright. Thank you.

Destination Unknown

Orange bridge arched
through white clouds anchored in blue skies

to join chilled sun in its assault
against winter’s cold

as life’s breeze
disturbed still water beneath secured hulls
to unearth resting dreams.

MeeAugraphie
02/06/08

Originally posted on MeeAugraphie.com.  Inspired by this blog’s header photo, which I took in LaConner, WA, in 2007.  RVers many days travel to unknown places, yet they remain home in their hearts.