Through this tangle of words
and thoughts, laughter and
wisdom, I see you for who
you are now. A rogue intent
on making sense of the world.
Judy Roney
November 28, 2009
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Knarled
I hold the steamy liquid housed in my favorite cup
of rough clay. An unseemly mug that lists to the
left and has no rhyme or reason to design. It does
fit snugly in my hands on nippy mornings, gives
me comfort in its non conformity, feels in sync
to these knarled fingers and this bent frame.
Judy Roney
November 27, 2009
of rough clay. An unseemly mug that lists to the
left and has no rhyme or reason to design. It does
fit snugly in my hands on nippy mornings, gives
me comfort in its non conformity, feels in sync
to these knarled fingers and this bent frame.
Judy Roney
November 27, 2009
She’s Thankful
For the beauty in the world around her
the trees full leaved and green, then
brilliant colors, and even naked in
creative stances against the gray of winter.
Judy Roney
November 26, 2009
the trees full leaved and green, then
brilliant colors, and even naked in
creative stances against the gray of winter.
Judy Roney
November 26, 2009
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Everybody Knows, Nobody Tells
Everybody says you get through the grief so dense you can’t breathe
But nobody gives you a clue how. What they say, how they say
They found their way rarely makes sense to me.
Everybody says you find joy again, real purpose in your life
But nobody tells you how long and what the process extracts
From your being each day as you find your way.
Everybody wants you to be well, be happy, don’t bleed on them
But nobody tells you how you staunch the flow just for them
How you can be a friend again when you are dying one tiny
Sliver at a time.
Judy Roney
November 24, 2009
But nobody gives you a clue how. What they say, how they say
They found their way rarely makes sense to me.
Everybody says you find joy again, real purpose in your life
But nobody tells you how long and what the process extracts
From your being each day as you find your way.
Everybody wants you to be well, be happy, don’t bleed on them
But nobody tells you how you staunch the flow just for them
How you can be a friend again when you are dying one tiny
Sliver at a time.
Judy Roney
November 24, 2009
Emergency
Every day there was an emergency.
He was a firefighter some thirty years
first response, he witnessed life and death
people in need and on the edge.
He put out fires of one kind or another
every day on shift, ran from one emergency
to another extricating a man from
his crumbled car or performing CPR
on a 10 year old whose last wish was to
go to Disney World.
It’s no wonder now that he’s retired
he’s still putting out fires in one way
or another. He feels he’s wasting his time
when life is going along smoothly
no emergencies, no calls to duty. His
eyes light up and he’s passionate
when there’s a problem to solve or
people who need his help. Once
a firefighter, always a firefighter.
Judy Roney
November 23, 2009
He was a firefighter some thirty years
first response, he witnessed life and death
people in need and on the edge.
He put out fires of one kind or another
every day on shift, ran from one emergency
to another extricating a man from
his crumbled car or performing CPR
on a 10 year old whose last wish was to
go to Disney World.
It’s no wonder now that he’s retired
he’s still putting out fires in one way
or another. He feels he’s wasting his time
when life is going along smoothly
no emergencies, no calls to duty. His
eyes light up and he’s passionate
when there’s a problem to solve or
people who need his help. Once
a firefighter, always a firefighter.
Judy Roney
November 23, 2009
Family Cacophony
My mother’s voice welcomes me home this sun
shiny day after Thanksgiving, two thousand nine.
I hug her for a long while and say "Happy
Thanksgiving" and she says it right back. The coffee
pot is perking softly in the back ground and the clock
strikes the hour. I open a diet coke and catch up with
the happenings before I go to the celebration.
The carpet of brown leaves crackle and crumble under
foot as I walk next door to my brother and sister
in-law’s country home where the feast will be. The
screen door opens and I enter.
I'm welcomed by each one I embrace with words
of greeting and a cool drink splashes
into my glass as it's placed in my hand. I visit
with each member of this family I adore. My nieces are
all grown up and adult conversations happen around me
though I still sometimes expect their child
voices to come from them."I love you" are the words
spoken by my youngest niece and I take them into my core
with this scene playing out before me.
The smells waft throughout the house and escape outdoors
amidst the chatter of humans and birds, kids and dogs
all at play, all proclaiming the significance of this day.
I hear the click of the cameras around me and the one I hold
as I try to capture bits and pieces of this Rockwell scene.
I grab my niece for a close up as we laugh at photos I click
of our shoes or just one face.
My sister-in-law is in the kitchen and our eyes meet
in the knowing of this happy scene and what it means,
she of like mind and dreams as I. She is surrounded
by her three daughters engaged in a flurry of motion
and easy talk. They know their tasks there at hand as
they mix, whip, pour, stir, and create a Thanksgiving
feast. They make light work of the huge work of art
they present in clinking bowls, casseroles and steamy pots.
The men are gathered round a huge cooker filled with
a golden brown turkey that glistens in the sun. They
joke and talk aboutsubjects I don’t take in, I’m too
enamored by the camaraderie and deep voices of these
handsome husbands of my nieces and the newest addition,
my niece's fiancee that I met for the first time. I leave
a background of hunting stories and the clink of bottle.
It's time to gather together as we take each others
hand in prayer. A cacophony of voices buzz
in the background as we eat the grand meal and catch
up, all talking at once, sometimes in a rhythm you
can feel. Closer conversations come in more clearly
now as seven year old Hudson tells me a joke
about turkeys and little brother Harrison’s
laughter chimes in with full gusto. My niece shows
me her engagement ring and the light in her eyes
out sparkles any diamond. My brother is at the table
the one who we almost lost to cancer this year. He
looks good, though weak, and I keep sneaking peaks
to make sure of him.
Groans and moans and full bellies moved from the table
as we move around enough to make room for the desserts.
My brother throws the football to my nephews outside.
I heat them yell, “Watch Aunt Judy” as the ball falls
into their hands and they beat their papa to the tree
for a “touch down!” Their laughter rings out with along
with back slaps and congratulatory shouts. I soak
up all the sounds, smells, and feels of this day in
Prosperity, South Carolina where family noises
are free and clear and I am in a state of Thanksgiving.
Judy Roney
November 23, 2009
shiny day after Thanksgiving, two thousand nine.
I hug her for a long while and say "Happy
Thanksgiving" and she says it right back. The coffee
pot is perking softly in the back ground and the clock
strikes the hour. I open a diet coke and catch up with
the happenings before I go to the celebration.
The carpet of brown leaves crackle and crumble under
foot as I walk next door to my brother and sister
in-law’s country home where the feast will be. The
screen door opens and I enter.
I'm welcomed by each one I embrace with words
of greeting and a cool drink splashes
into my glass as it's placed in my hand. I visit
with each member of this family I adore. My nieces are
all grown up and adult conversations happen around me
though I still sometimes expect their child
voices to come from them."I love you" are the words
spoken by my youngest niece and I take them into my core
with this scene playing out before me.
The smells waft throughout the house and escape outdoors
amidst the chatter of humans and birds, kids and dogs
all at play, all proclaiming the significance of this day.
I hear the click of the cameras around me and the one I hold
as I try to capture bits and pieces of this Rockwell scene.
I grab my niece for a close up as we laugh at photos I click
of our shoes or just one face.
My sister-in-law is in the kitchen and our eyes meet
in the knowing of this happy scene and what it means,
she of like mind and dreams as I. She is surrounded
by her three daughters engaged in a flurry of motion
and easy talk. They know their tasks there at hand as
they mix, whip, pour, stir, and create a Thanksgiving
feast. They make light work of the huge work of art
they present in clinking bowls, casseroles and steamy pots.
The men are gathered round a huge cooker filled with
a golden brown turkey that glistens in the sun. They
joke and talk aboutsubjects I don’t take in, I’m too
enamored by the camaraderie and deep voices of these
handsome husbands of my nieces and the newest addition,
my niece's fiancee that I met for the first time. I leave
a background of hunting stories and the clink of bottle.
It's time to gather together as we take each others
hand in prayer. A cacophony of voices buzz
in the background as we eat the grand meal and catch
up, all talking at once, sometimes in a rhythm you
can feel. Closer conversations come in more clearly
now as seven year old Hudson tells me a joke
about turkeys and little brother Harrison’s
laughter chimes in with full gusto. My niece shows
me her engagement ring and the light in her eyes
out sparkles any diamond. My brother is at the table
the one who we almost lost to cancer this year. He
looks good, though weak, and I keep sneaking peaks
to make sure of him.
Groans and moans and full bellies moved from the table
as we move around enough to make room for the desserts.
My brother throws the football to my nephews outside.
I heat them yell, “Watch Aunt Judy” as the ball falls
into their hands and they beat their papa to the tree
for a “touch down!” Their laughter rings out with along
with back slaps and congratulatory shouts. I soak
up all the sounds, smells, and feels of this day in
Prosperity, South Carolina where family noises
are free and clear and I am in a state of Thanksgiving.
Judy Roney
November 23, 2009
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Invention
I’d like to invent a song
that moves people
something never heard
before, something
important.
I’d love to invent a poem
Write and rewrite to perfection
until it was ready to send off
and be welcomed into open arms
I’ve dreamed of inventing
a painting exquisite. One
that talks to the viewer
and allows them to reach
to grow and love even more
It will tell them something
we all want to know.
I want to invent a way
of reaching people where it matters
of changing one thing that will
make them happier. That would
make the world glow a little brighter.
Judy Roney
November 21, 2009
that moves people
something never heard
before, something
important.
I’d love to invent a poem
Write and rewrite to perfection
until it was ready to send off
and be welcomed into open arms
I’ve dreamed of inventing
a painting exquisite. One
that talks to the viewer
and allows them to reach
to grow and love even more
It will tell them something
we all want to know.
I want to invent a way
of reaching people where it matters
of changing one thing that will
make them happier. That would
make the world glow a little brighter.
Judy Roney
November 21, 2009
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