Not guilty

Originally posted March 2012

“No diet will remove all the fat from your body because the brain is entirely fat. Without a brain, you might look good, but all you could do is run for public office.”
—George Bernard Shaw

“Never eat more than you can lift.”
—Miss Piggy

*

Not guilty

Today I ordered rhubarb pie

With my iced coffee

As its tartness exploded

Into my mouth sending lazy taste buds

Waves of pleasure

I noted that this pie

Was not accompanied

By the usual helping

Of guilt

Guilt for indulging

In this orgy of calories

Guilt that I will not be very hungry

When my son takes me out for dinner

In four hours – guilt

That the needle -on the bathroom scale

May have to climb a little higher

As my fingers traced

A path of flakey golden crumbs

And sticky red juice

I realized that this time

There was no attempt

To justify the decision

To indulge, to rationalize

Because it’s my birthday I’m entitled

No bargaining of what I

Would forgo?

To atone

I simply enjoyed every last bite

And if I weren’t’ so full

I would get another piece -perhaps

Or – make that to go

*

Bisous,

Léa

19 Comments

Filed under Humor

At what age is privacy a right? a voice silenced

Write, write, write. It can save your life. You don’t need lessons, just pour out your thoughts and your pain. But only when it is safe to do so. 

*

What man art thou that, thus bescreened in night, so stumblest on my counsel?” – William Shakespeare

Privacy is not something that I’m merely entitled to, it’s an absolute prerequisite. – Marlon Brando

*

At what age is privacy a right? a voice silenced

Years ago

I saw a painting

the rolling stone

of damnation 

the agony

of the wicked

said to be

eternal

I heard the story

but knew

I had been there

before

*

like childhood

the pain – eternal

escape beyond reach

attempts to record –

purged, destroyed 

that was before

marriage

from the frying pan

to the inferno

from there it

became worse

he too a victim

his choices were

different

i remained silent

*

there is nothing

that can prepare you

for the death of a child

they say the loss of a spouse

comes close

but I was the one to run

from him – yet I

rendered silent

no one – no where

to confide

*

decades of pain lodged deep

its daggers

surfacing briefly

clawing at the heart

tearing the eyes

haunting dreams

exorcism futile

until all dreams vanish

*

reclamation

can be found even

when we think we

are not looking

with hope discarded

mine came from

pen and paper

slowly, guardedly

at first a cautious

re-introduction

cached from critical eyes

*

floodgates ruptured

denial of the past

no longer buried

writing the crucial key

long ago abandoned

 confession at ones peril

without the sanctity of

confidentiality

the words are mine

words – sacrosanct

freedom – unconditional

now – with conviction

my words flow free

*

bisous,

léa 

17 Comments

Filed under Uncategorized, Writing

I believe his name is Pablo

Perhaps it is because cats do not live by human patterns, do not fit themselves into prescribed behavior, that they are so united to creative people.” – Andre Norton

“I love cats because I enjoy my home; and little by little, they become its visible soul.”                            –  Jean Cocteau

“Always the cat remains a little beyond the limits we try to set for him in our blind folly.”                     –  Andre Norton

Perhaps Pablo?

Perhaps Pablo?

I believe his name is Pablo

not just for the artist

but also the poet

the one whose silvery

tongue, slides in and out

of my dreams

*

le petit chat noir

 curled up in

my palm creating

his own corner

de coeur

*

only three weeks old

the eyes still dark like

the gloss of his fur

too soon yet

to bring him home

*

it’s been a decade

since i’ve lived

with a cat

my youngest son took

his – when he parted

*

a niche

caché à mon coeur

arms open, waiting

longing to stroke

his silky black fur

*

hypnotic opus whispers

bestowing solace

allowing me to adore you

prompting my behaviors

putting me in my place

*

j’attends

divine inspiration

mysterious muse

oh passionate one

chez moi est chez toi

*

Bisous,

Léa

39 Comments

Filed under Cats

In her safekeeping – Carly-Jay Metcalfe

The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of those depths.” – Elisabeth Kubler-Ross

Courage is what it takes to stand up and speak; courage is also what it takes to sit down and listen.” – Winston Churchill

“I say to people who care for people who are dying, if you really love that person and want to help them, be with them when the end comes close. Sit with them – you don’t even have to talk. You don’t have to do anything but really be there with them.”  – Elisabeth Kulbler-Ross

*

In her safekeeping (For Carly-Jay)

On that freezing

winter’s night

I struggle to

stay on path

fighting the winds

I hear the howling

all too close at hand

it is the darkest of night

even the moon has

turned her face

I am alone

frightened

the way ahead

into the unknown

unprepared

my eyes seek

respite

lifting my head

in the storm

a window

in the distance

illuminating the way

unconditional love

inviting – welcoming

offering safe harbour

the guardian

reaches out – her

voice gentle, calm

reassuring

there is no judgment here

she knows intimately 

its weariness, each toll

her embrace 

I am safe in her keeping

steadfast she escorts me

until I am at last

at rest

*

Webster defines courage as: mental or moral strength to venture, persevere, and withstand danger, fear, or difficulty. To possess such courage, is rare. To find it in one so young as Carly-Jay Metcalfe, is remarkable. To have someone like her come into your life, I promise, will illuminate even the darkest of corners. She can inspire like few others. I am indeed privileged to know her. A writer, a speaker and a champion to those whom she reaches out to in the darkest days of their lives.

Carly-Jay knows death on a first name basis. She has navigated in its shadows since first drawing breath. Yet instead of running from it, she faces it full on to guide others. Please, for your own sake, get to know this amazing young woman. She has so much to offer all who open their mind and heart.

In addition to my meager words, I offer links to explore the world of Carly-Jay, get to know her. Death touches each of us and running from it can only harm us. Enlightenment is the key to life. Carly-Jay is the keeper of the key.

http://www.carlyjaymetcalfe.com

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AYaBlW9sSYQ

*

Bisous,

Léa

14 Comments

Filed under Love

bond-less day

“Parents and relatives commit murder with smiles on their faces. They force us to destroy the person we really are: a subtle kind of murder.” – Jim Morrison

*

bond-less day

no, they say

you never miss

what you never had

yet I kept searching

for that bond

turning each stone

attachment of infancy

maternal bonding

it is celebrated

every year

and every year

I busy myself

to focus on

what I have that

is mine

despite familial rejection

the years of abuse

the violence

children she never

wanted – a choice

that was not mine

if you had that

magical bond

assuming we all did

i’m happy for you

but don’t assume

this is universal

i’ve worked with others

who lived in dread

of the pretense

who asked ourselves

over and over

why wasn’t I

acceptable

being who I

was, childish

attempts to change

your mind, your heart

changing who i was

trying to be good enough

finally accepting

without a conscience

there is nothing

you have to give

never to look into

my eyes

we were both

victims – who chose

different paths

no terms of endearment

no kisses, no gentle touch

i’ve learned to glue

pieces together

scarring is deep

but now i am free

i’ve built a life

where acceptance

is my cocoon

emerging i 

take wing and fly

*

bisous,

léa

28 Comments

Filed under Life, Uncategorized

Petit Chouette / Little Owl – poem

“Can grave and formal pass for wise, when Men the solemn Owl despise.”  – Benjamin Franklin

“He respects Owl, because you can’t help respecting anybody who can spell TUESDAY, even if he doesn’t spell it right.” – A.A. Milne

Petit Chouette

Petit Chouette

Petit Chouette – Little Owl

Mon petit

Unscheduled arrival

Dans mon village

How brave you are

Gift of wayward youth

Brightening our day

*

Softness of your

Feathery down

Your eyes

Unused to sunlight

Body – delicate

Almost weightless

*

Warrior of the night

Caesar? Hannibal? Khan?

Unblinking

Gracefully clinging to

Edge of a container

Colors muted, fragile

*

Oh winged oracle

Benediction in flight

Your visit long

Remembered

Your eyes aglow

Wisdom of the night

*

Bisous,

Léa

Post script: For those who read yesterday’s post on http://foundinfrance.wordpress.com our little visitor has been reunited with his family who nest in some trees in the village. At least one adult owl was heard at three this morning to take this young one home.

15 Comments

Filed under Wildlife

My not so secret addiction

“Let us remember: One book, one pen, one child, and one teacher can change the world.”                                 – Malala Yousafzai

“The reading of all good books is like a conversation with the finest minds of past centuries.”                        – Rene Descartes

“There are three kinds of men. The one that learns by reading. The few who learn by observation. The rest of them have to pee on the electric fence for themselves.” – Will Rogers

*

My not so secret addiction

The reasons themselves

Do not matter

Somehow I never got

Around to reading

Vonnegut – yet

Today one of his books

A Man Without a Country

Appeared at my door

Via la poste

*

Scanning a few pages

A quote or two catches

My eye – arousing

Inherent curiosity

My inner cat alerted

The treat is in store

Lying in wait –

Ready to pounce

*

Such is the life

Of the reader

There are always books

Demanding to be read

Authors to discover

Stories to be told – alas

So many books and

Life – gone in a flash

Or a whimper

*

Heady with Sir Chaplin

Halfway through his life

The tower of coming attractions

Beckon seductively

  Cocooned in his story

Yet a restlessness – a whisper

Fear that the lights may darken

Before the next front-runner

Has exposed itself –

Reveal its secrets

Intoxication of the

Literary sensibility

Bisous,

Léa

11 Comments

Filed under Books