Category: Penman Lounge

We process
the known
day

thru the filter
of verbiage

making
mulch

of real events
not recalled

because memory
holds
only

the wisps
that do
not

blow away
from

lack of context.

Next to the bathroom sink is
a small picture of Christ,
a button, a paperclip & next
to his face, a Bluetooth

which caused me to wonder
if he again walked physically
among us, would he be
wearing one? Once more both

God & man: eating, sleeping,
sweating, receiving messages
from elsewhere as we do.
How would he see our short-attention

span theatre? Would the beatitudes
be pared back, the ten commandments
be three we could remember?
We would want him to say what is essential

then get on with it. Living
in the moment we forget how we
got here. The calm look would
be disconcerting, the silences diverting

us from streaming on to
where we do not know. There
are so many daily messages to
decipher, we elude the silence

that holds place, slows the race.
Many have their place in a community
of “ghosts” with hundreds of “friends”
they never see. It is pretend reality.

In the zen koan when
you have received the small bowl
and sustenance, wash it clean
for there are others to follow.

Take what is given to you,
use it wisely. For my burden
is light & I alone will always
be with you. Here, take my hand.

Like a Lighting-Bolt
You are–
Strikingly-Inspiring

And my Pen glides
Over the page
Like a flash of–

LIGHTING

It’s so fast and it’s so free
Words are JOLTS OF LIGHTING

In the bones–
And through the feet–

Radiating over ME
Like a glow of Glitter-Rays

Creating through another PHASE
Turning Time and–
Turning Page

Inking through another AGE
Pen of LOVE or–
Pen of RAGE
Ink fills up Another-Page
Pen of PEACE or–
Pen of WAR

Either way–
Ink more and MORE

IF you write–
You write TO BE–
THE VOICE
That ONLY YOU can be–
The PEN is here to set us free!
LIGHT ON YOU!
And–
LIGHT ON ME!

(an English sonnet)

In the crystalline, becalmed air
The thought held its place there
By the picture of large regret,

The sailors’ sorrow, the broken net
That caught not fish the day described
Windswept in that darkening bay.

Now the picture is seen as skill,
A trial, a test of human will
Where brush was placed just so

Until the years have slid away,
Perspective changed, explained to mean
The known unseen: a cloud,

A breeze, the color blue, what holds
A word, and what is true.

The memory I have of the 4 of us
is this….
Years ago
on a weekend night after dinner
in your living room
a bit tipsy
a little high
“Rumours” on the stereo
Your 2 sweet daughters
in the other room playing
and getting ready for bed
Suddenly
bursting into the run
blonde curls flyings
giggling and thrusting themselves
into arms willing
to give good night kisses and cuddles
She stands in the door
Watching the scene
mother love glowing on her face
she sings along to the music
and he notices
and starts to sing with her
dance with her
the girls snuggle on our laps
and watch their parents dance
something special is happening
this night
a twinkle in his eye
an answering one in hers…….
a blessed moment
We leave them alone
and put the girls to bed
We leave the music
We leave the magic
of the 2 of them
soon to create another
a beautiful baby girl

Blessed and magic moments
are to be remembered and loved
Thank you for this one Eddie

God Speed Eddie.  May you enjoy yourself up there in heaven with all your family especially with our beautiful Stacey!

All our love,   Cathie & Walter

The world is on hold.
The axis has been tilted. Day is
slightly less, a blink, a yawn, then gone.

Events go racing by
with the debris of the lost.
That which we hold onto is slipping away.

We grasp at each other
never sure that our own shore
will ever be secure.

It is all part of piecemeal life,
unscripted ’til eternity devours us,
places us just so, amongst the curios.

Here the eternally unequal
continue to hold sway.
Solace comes in knowing

all things pass and grass grows best
with the drying flowers in the marbled hills
of the eternally equal.

I remember us as children…
Dancing to merry tunes
and
wearing pristine white dresses
like little brides on our First Communion Day…
and
kelly green Girl Scout uniforms….
You with
bouncing brown curls
and shining eyes
the rosiest cheeks
and
the sweetest of smiles…
Who grew up
and a wonderful man fell in love
with you
and you with him…
You both forged out in this
beautiful land to
God’s own country
and made a beautiful life
with
your lovely daughters
you were blessed with….
But who knows why
things happen to
the kindest and nicest of men…
I pray God I knew…
I wish I could take
your pain away
like I took your hand
in our childhood games
and dances…
Instead
I take you and your daughters
into my heart
and my soul
and share my light within
to help light yours
to remind you
he is there too
The light within shines eternal
like God’s love
always
within
always
around
never
ever
ending…

All my love…..Cathie Hayes Ulasinski

copyright 3/13/2011 Catherine Hayes Ulasinski

I am no where to be found
as I
disappearing in between
the space of
inconsequential words
and
thoughtless feelings

Barely as a shadow
I exist
and only flutter
to life
when
a true kindness
is said
and tentatively
become content

Warmth flows in
and I am
whole
for a while
till
the next time
when
reminded

It begins again

I slip
back in the shadows
and slip between
the cold comfort
of
the inconsequential words
and hide.

copyright 3/1/2011 catherine hayes ulasinski

No more will I look to mountain tops
and think of wild kisses
and shivers down my spine
No more will a song cause me to
pause
and remember
for
I am finally letting go
after all this time
I know now
we
were never to be
we were just
a brief
dream
a
wonderful
magical
dream
but
now
as all good things do
it ends
So
my loving
beautiful
exquisite
friend
I am
letting you go
I am saying
my sweet
good bye…

copyright 10/22/2010 catherine anne hayes

Have you crossed serious roads
and not looked back?

Part of your brain sees “destination,”
another part the walking

that “goads” the doing
though lacking directions.

Alone is final,
for then there is no one

to say the pillar of salt
behind could have been you.