That Old Bucket List

Music either is part of your life or not

notes and words mingled

singled out in a mixture capturing

the ancient instinct

the metronome calling for clarity.

It is that "bucket list"

another thing in which to stress over

lost is the dreams and thoughts

that fleetingly flutter

then return from whence they came.

You never get to the end

the paper begs the pen

what do you want in the little time

that is on your expiration

what is it you want.

So many dreams are impossible

financially limited

with time never on your side

distance eating away at the belief

that there's always tomorrow.

Most who know my heart

that beats rhythmically

that is marked with a song

that can retrieve a stored memory

heartbreaking or not.

An optimist I believe

life will find the path of rightfulness

but the times of pain

the times in which I promptly lock away

magnified by song.

Memories are for the making

fulfilling the bucket list

should be driven by the heart and soul

carnal needs are part of your journey

clues to your life.

Elton John

was he on my bucket list

did I strive to see him life in concert

the opportunity arose so suddenly

so see him I did.

A memory to tuck away

a pleasure that became so very apparent

as I watched his face

to love your life to love your world

is priceless.

The bucket list

isn't written by our hand or mind

the bucket list exists like a mindful monk

the lesson elusively hidden

an anima.

Open your instincts

become the tiger deep in the reeds

today the hunter of the questionable answers

tomorrow a memory

live life

with the knowledge that

you will soon be a forgotten memory.

barb

ps...Elton John was great.

Face to Face

Coming face to face

time stopped literally in place

the sun continued to shine without notice

the happy birds

watched unknowingly as I

came face to face

with the fleeing burglar.

His expression froze

taking in my presence in the path

of his escape

weighing with complete care

the necessity and the possibility

that I was a threat

to his freedom to enjoy the day.

Seconds dragged beyond

the possibility that days or minutes

or even years did not

pass by in that space of time

fear did not have a seat

at the table of this meeting

while curiosity took the microphone.

Not a word was uttered

not a single thing was said

but the acknowledgement of the moment

the burglar and me

quietly weighed all options

as he fled by me

soundless and in a hurry.

Over the wall

one hand on it as he hurtled it with ease

landing with a hard thump

leaving deep footprints in the dirt

before he sprinted

to the taller wall leading to freedom

from his ill-gotten plan

to gain entry.

Young and fit

he ran as though the devil

was laughing in his left ear

telling him his tattoos were ill-advised

for the doorbell

captured him in such clarity

alerting the owners of his evil plans

to destroy and steal.

A crime of convenience

a need to obtain that he doesn't own

money for another day

facing the wrong end of a bullet

is swept out of his consciousness even though

it is a real possibility

we stood face to face

quietly the burglar and me.

The alarm was turned on

the house was eerily quite empty

the bars on the windows assaulted for entry

glass covered the ground

broken shards of anger and pain

video notifications

and yet not enough to stop.

Face to face

a young man risking all in the world

to take what isn't his

to destroy the peace and security

every day of every week

breaching the quiet afternoons

a wanted man

who will one day face death

as quietly as he did me.

barb

Prospecting in the East Mountains

There is gold in them there hills...

Our newest adventure in an otherwise normal life

is taking up prospecting.

Granted I don't care that much about gold

as I do about the history of those

who came before modern technology.

Describe our world today - spoiled!

and I believe it is continuing

to head to a society of machines that make

life easy, enjoyable and spoiled.

East is machines that help grow and deliver our food

enjoyable is anything that makes us well enjoy life

and spoiled is because we are losing

appreciation of hard work.

I love technology

like I am using it all the time in both my writing,

reading and art but I have this need

to understand the great challenges of before 1900s

to just feed, protect and have a good life.

We live in the Rio Grande Valley

where there are mountains to the east of us

and high desert to the west

divided by the great Rio Grande River.

All things considered

we have joined a group with "claims" near our home

some are well only passable by donkey

and mostly deplete of easy gold

for in the 1800s and early 1900s

big mining companies were all over the mountains

so we bring home dirt to pan for gold.

Is it here?

Yes it is and it is very pure but unless you have

the 'technology' of modern equipment

it is a lesson in history.

Personally, I am interested in the rocks

the animals and the trees

but at the moment I am clueless as to what is there

except the 'guys' say always carry a gun.

Nice...if I am eaten by a bear

at least I'll make the news.

barb

Asking for a Friend

Asking for a friend...

what if inquiry were much easier

what if people listened

what if we weren't frozen from fear

the words sticking

on our chapped lifeless lips

unable to find the vocal means in which

to express

unhindered, unobstructed

by an inner fear

of ridicule...rejection...or just a moment

of reluctance

a simple inquiry I believe

should not silence one's begging heart

a question of importance

that falls deftly

settling in the stomach acid

with dire consequences

never coming to light becomes detrimental

I am asking for a friend.

Is love capable

does it have the skills

of survival

in the absence of dissection

does love merely fade into the distance

a ball rolling downhill

over rocks beyond one's desire

to retrieve it.

I am asking for a friend.

barb

Nevertheless, She Persisted

She was warned.

She was given an explanation.

Nevertheless, she Persisted.

Just a vision

transgressing through life

the burdens hers and hers alone

the weight of expectations

love

waiting beyond the horizon

pure and simple

captured and left to wither

undermined, underestimated, lonely and cold.

My life and my work is the constant struggles of the heroine

to find the ancient woman's memory

that grows stronger in her breast and in her soul as she

battles the unrelenting demands of man

to cower and submit all that she has, all that she is

to his authority, to his demands.  It seems that this battle of women

is still breathing down her neck.

barb

Word count...word count...word count!

I know...but this is the Violin and Roses Sculpture

that I just finished.

It has over 97 sculpted glass English Roses

and more than 50 glass leaves

intertwined in a 100 year old Violin.

Pretty cool huh!!

Word Count

My new work is currently hovering just below 100,000 words

I feel like I am just on a journey of characters

until I feel that in those pages is a good story.

It is like getting to know someone

the more you write them the more you get to know them

inside and out.

So word count is high but I will keep writing

until I can pull out what I like.

It is February

Valentine's Day and my 6th Anniversary.

Life is better when you are older

Love is fantastic

when you are older

The shame is that you can't tell the younger you

just how great life is.

barb

Near Death Experience

Some things in life are not funny

even though a little bit of humor adds levity to life

"Near Death Experience"

no not the type when you leave your body

floating at the ceiling while your body makes a decision

to live or die.

It is when something happens

and you believe that there will be no choice

no ghosts or spirits watching from above

when the adrenaline reaches the level that you know

you are definitely alive and your heart works

but it might be the last time.

Coming home from a cross-country trip

only 90 miles from our front door

a semi-truck ran us off the highway at 70 mph

A split second decision was the only offering that came

to do or die.

I have labeled this unexpected experience

as "Mr. Toad's Wild Ride"

We travelled down a 6 foot slope into the median

while bumper to bumper traffic

went into shock at what they believed would be

a horrific and fatal ending.

Lewis maneuvered the SUV

down the bumpy but fortunately dry slope

riding the center of the deep median

swung up the side as we approached the cement culvert

went around it with finesses

then headed back up the slope into traffic.

My hats off to the traffic that slowed down

probably to assist what would have been two very

sorrowful bodies covered in Christmas cookies

allowing us to return to the highway unscathed though

in shock with the 30 second ride

in Mr. Toad's car.

What goes through your mind during an event

that scares the hair off of the back of your neck?

Nothing.

I know there's all the 'your life flashes before you' stuff

but your mind is about 10 seconds slower

to process than your body.

I thought of nothing

I didn't say one single word during the ride

not a sound was uttered by me.

The Glenn Frey CD quit playing

the Christmas cookies in the tins in the back seat

bounced against the tin

but I sat quietly holding my phone just watching

the large culvert coming closer.

This feeling, this reaction that rises out of fear

is what everyone goes through whether faced with an accident

or when given bad news

Our minds try to stop the input

while our bodies scream "what the hell is happening"

I think I want to die in my sleep.

barb