That Feeling

Was it the peaceful calm in my backyard sanctuary?

Or talking with the squirrel about nibbling at the new bulbs?

Was it the wind quietly whistling through those white pines?

Or the churchy song of the wind chimes we use to keep the deer away?

Was it the subtle fragrance of the newly opened peonies?

 Or the swaying of that beautiful big bush I just can’t quite name?

Was it the robin calling friends about the newly cut grass?

Or that magnificent hawk cruising by on the third pass?

Or was that you, checking on friends?

The soul that touched my life.

Sandra L.  Hazley

May 29, 2013

Terminal

the word terminal actually goes into effect at the beginning

the day you are born is the beginning of terminal

it’s just a matter of time

terminal, what a dirty, destructive word

say it, just to see how it feels

go ahead, let it roll off your lips

penetrate your brain

apply it to your mother, your father, kids, friends, lovers

now, imagine hearing your doctor say it

wow, what a wake up call

what does it mean?

it means term ending,

limit, coming to the end of what?

life, that’s what, meaning we each have a term

and yours is coming up real soon.

well, a terminal is also an electrical connection point

beginning of juice

do you think terminal could be a connection

that starts a new beginning

turns the lights back on

sets you up for the next round?

I guess you’ll have to figure that one out,

I’m still wrestling with the words

“terminal, my condition is terminal”

Sandra L. Hazley

Teddy Bear Blues

Cuddle me

like I cuddled my teddy

hold me

stroke me

My days of fake fur independence

are gone

I need the real thing

and I need it now

                                                                  

                                                                  

Sandra L. Hazley

          

Taking the Train

Clouds skim the sky

with sorrow and pain

and I was there

when the city lights

reflected in your eyes

Train spews steam

upon a grimacing moon

lurking in the background

like a predator in the night

waiting for prey

You and I

once red hot lovers

surpassing commitment

stand

lives shattered at our feet

People swarm like bees

you turn away

I speak with no sound

the train opens wide

swallowing you forever

Sandra L. Hazley

                                               

At Sunrise

sun slips into the room through slats

in thin lines

to whisper over the dust you can see

but not touch

the light crests his naked body like a halo

if you watch carefully

you can see his eyes move rapidly

under the skin film and lash line

        wrestling with waking or tracking the frames of a dream

silky blond hair cascades the pillow

framing the boyish face, so innocent 

in sleep

you want to touch him

bury your face in the crevice of his chest

inhale the sleepy smell of him

knowing his arms would encircle you

        when he moves

you slide into the cocoon

flesh against flesh

spooning

His breath on the back of your neck

sends messages to the place where

his maleness indents you

        finding its niche

you need to stay

stay

till the moon mist crests his naked body

Stand!

Stand – Don’t sit – Don’t slouch – Don’t crouch

            Get off the Couch – Out of the house

            Get off your ass – Take a class

Energize – Exercise – Get a rise – Take a ride

            Don’t hide – Give me five – Stay alive

Stand tall – Don’t fall – Don’t crawl – Get on the Ball

            Against the wall – For the long haul

Stand up – Don’t lie – Don’t cry – You’ll get by – You can fly

            Just don’t die

You’ve got it

 Regroup -- Recoup – Do the loop – Change – Rearrange

            Don’t be afraid to be strange

Sandra L. Hazley      

Soul Mate

 

Millions of memories washed over me

when I heard your voice

twenty-four years – forever

I’ve thought of you so often

You have visited me in my sleep

always in my heart

I’ve always loved you, you know

Not like my love for him,

my safe love, comfortable love

No, it has always been an everlasting,

childlike, starry-eyed love,

lilly white, spiritual, no pain love

Twenty-four years will do that

Cleanse everything, make it sterile

dumping the bad holding the good

Like you are still you and I am still me

But, we’re not

Sandra L. Hazley

April, 2003

Dawn

I can’t believe you left us behind

overflowing with memories

of your life and spirit

we have buried all of your grandparents

now here we are again,

faced with that funeral home

the soft talk

decisions, decisions

and you, our child, the first part of a pair,

our daughter, our friend, our heartache

have left all of us empty

the last time we were together

we kissed goodbye as usual

I can still feel your body in my arms

the strength of our love

I take solace

knowing you spoke to your father last

how could we have ever known

these were our final good-byes?

 Sandra L. Hazley

  10-15-2004                                                                                  

Smudging to Honor Mother Earth

pungent sage smoke

waved by dead bird feathers

over brightly clad war dancers

fancy dancers

warning evil spirits not to tread

left over native americans

intending to hold onto whatever

ancestry we haven’t trampled on

or stripped them of

ceremoniously backing out of sacred circles

honoring mother earth

with hands raised

just giving us just a taste of

what we could have saved

Sandra L. Hazley

Simple Dream

You called my name in the night

I turned

reaching into the void  

to comfort you

The sound of your voice

echoed

off the walls of my dream

If you returned

it would only reduce the space

in the bed

Sandra L. Hazley

                                 

 

Roads of Time

Windshield wipers

tap tap tapping

like a metronome

going mad

Roads to nowhere

flying by

at mach speed

Cows under trees

blending together

paint massive

brown and green dots

on hillsides

They watch us

for a moment

but we are gone

in a blur

Consumed in clouds

and paradoxical thoughts

as we race to get there

Parallel roads

converge to an end

forcing us to disembark

before our time

Sandra L. Hazley            

Recycling of Souls - For Dawn Spagnoli 1963 -2004

 

Recycling of Souls

I believe in reincarnation

life after life

something like

a recycling of souls program

I think we can be recycled often

reborn again over and over

through the years

keeping some concept of ourselves each time

so who we are today

holds just a piece of who we were

a hundred years ago

who we will be next

what I am sure of

is that I will hold your hand again

                                                                        Sandra L. Hazley

                                                        For My Daughter

                                                        Dawn Anita Spagnoli

                                                        12-11-63      10-13-04

Recycling of Souls

 

I believe in reincarnation

life after life

something like

a recycling of souls program

I think we can be recycled often

reborn over and over

through the years

keeping some concept of ourselves each time

so who we are today

could hold a piece of who we were

a hundred years ago

and who knows, maybe we were lovers then too

                      

                                                       

Sandra L. Hazley

Reading of the Names

The boy-girl does not know

he has the best of all worlds

physical anatomy makes a world ruler

with a heart of an angel

the looks of David

He can not ignore the perils of his life

they are glaringly real

on this subject he and I

do not speak in riddles

or pretend

Danger surrounds him

but little red ribbons are a banner

not a solution

                   not a cure

He often reminisces of friends passed

but, here, the highlights of their lives

are  lovingly stitched into quilted blankets

covering DC like

                   a dirge gone rampant

There are no merry songs played here

just the soft, quiet  of names whispered

and shouted

                   at his ears

A sea of glittering candles

illuminating the dark

will not bring one back

I can not get into his mind here

he is closed for the season

Sandra L. Hazley

Rape in the Forrest

the loaded 18 wheeler grinds to a halt beside me

i swear i can hear groans coming from the great bleeding cargo

strapped tightly to its back

stately oaks with such dignity, sliced down long before their time

a screaming testament to how we treat the blood of our earth

there is a lonely piece of land left back there somewhere

with underground roots on their  way to nowhere

our land has been raped of shelter and food

all of the trees in the forest are weeping silently

as they watch their fallen comrades roll by

                                       

Sandra Hazley

                                                       

Pittsburgh Evolution

  

Typical abandoned old soot grime steel mills

sulfur wafting through Braun’s bread 

on the way home from the store when I was ten

The loaves were usually marred with alley dirt

always a few slices short

Staples for the long walk home from school

Shopping trips to Bogg’s and Buhl’s and Diamond Market

hanging on to bags and sweaty palms

lest I lost my way in the crowds of sale mongers

or missed a step on the streetcar

with its scary electric arm

protruding the sky for its life source

Herr’s Island hoofaroma stunk up the whole East Street Valley

with the souls of the slaughtered given way to big house fever

and carbon monoxide spewing SUVs in the morning rat race

and Bogg’s and Buhl’s never had a chance

in the tear ‘em down, build ‘em up society

Now, city strip paints pictures of Asian chicken sticks

and bagels piled high on your plate on a lazy Saturday morning.

          You and I will never know half the stories

          and the dust will never settle in this city

                          

Sandra L. Hazley

                                               

Past the Past Time

Past the Past Time

Washed out blue jean memories

when passing the plate for my trespasses

always seems to come up empty

Friends and acquaintances come and go

and come again

to dredge up the what ever from the past

some is good enough to remember

some is better left behind

Do you really believe half of the stuff

that happened in those years

or is the whole thing a pleasant pseudo dream

that keeps reoccurring

Dead people show their faces in your sleep now

to remind you of how it was

they give you no escape except for no-doze

or caffeine

I’m embracing those times though

holding onto them like precious jewels

I think it’s all we can get from them now

Sandra L. Hazley

January 2, 2006

One Night Stand

You looked at me

          with a continental smile

I recoiled into oblivion

Wishing you would disappear

with the sunrise

Sandra L. Hazley

                                                         

Never Ending A Love

Even as you left, I loved you

                   more than sun, moon

                   more than life

Two people, you and I meant to be

                   not meant to be

                   for a time or forever

Lessons always learned

                   you love, lose

                   not lose

We win with memories

                   precious, yearning

                   haunting memories

You sculpted my frame

                   I loved, learned

                   blossomed

Sandra L. Hazley

                                                                       

            

My System

here on my cluttered desk

everything has a space

or a place

piles of this

piles of that

all jockeying for position

to be first

to get done

computer disks

scream out for names

and when I remember

what is on them

I will name them

you call in the midst

of pen sampling

a most important job

as hundreds are dry

and must be discarded

someday

I am aloof

you are breaking

my train of thought

which pile writes

which pile doesn’t

I will have to start again

I tell you

I can not find the gas bill

you mention I could clean off my desk

you are sure it is there somewhere

I am sure

you know nothing

about keeping a neat desk

Sandra L. Hazley

my god

                        

if there is in fact a god

then he is an all forgiving god

just like everyone says

and he will forgive me

for not spending my time

                   worshiping him

he will understand i am working on making

myself the best person i can be

and, if there isn’t a god

                   i was right all along

Sandra L. Hazley

            

Misunderstanding

There you stood

words cutting

       like a knife

slicing through your lips

Hatred flashing eyes

       penetrating

piercing my skin

Lies upon lies

       hitting my ashen face

like a raging windstorm

stripping me bare

Sandra L. Hazley

          

Laced With Arsenic

I suspect you died a slow, painful death in another life

presumably poisoned in your prime

The look was in your eyes when Marsha Mason

took all those people down in that play

Methodical      death       

by    rat   poison

Your soup seems tainted now

Your milk a little sour

You watch me in the kitchen

“Don’t poison me” tripping over your tongue

as you wait for the inevitable

“Not to worry, Baby

I have never been one to waste so much time”

Sandra L. Hazley