Well, school is wrapping up and I can’t wait to finally have time to write some poetry or do some other type of pleasure writing.  I can’t believe I’m three weeks away from being done with school!  Its probably been two months since I’ve written anything besides a term paper.

Also, I hope everyone has a Happy Thanksgiving, plenty of food to eat, and much to be grateful for.

And regarding my last post, I decided not to call my former friend but sent note of sympathy to acknowledge the loss.  I did like their spouse even though our friendship didn’t work out.

I got a promotion at work to branch manager with a 15% raise to boot! Plus, a good friend of mine just got engaged to a great guy and I love when wonderful things happen to wonderful people.

Right now I’m sending this quick post just to have an excuse to put down the book on terrorism I am reading for a class. I’ve never read a book before that’s dry as toast and yet fascinating at the same time. Seven more weeks, and then I graduate and I’ll never have to read another book on the gruesome subject again unless I want to…which by the way isn’t bloody likely.I got a promotion at work to branch manager with a 15% raise to boot! Plus, a good friend of mine just got engaged to a great guy and I love when wonderful things happen to wonderful people.

Right now I’m sending this quick post just to have an excuse to put down the book on terrorism I am reading for a class. I’ve never read a book before that’s dry as toast and yet fascinating at the same time. Seven more weeks, and then I graduate and I’ll never have to read another book on the gruesome subject again unless I want to…which by the way isn’t bloody likely

Yesterday, my cat Chriskit (a.k.a. Bubby to his mommy) passed away from an apparent heart problem. He was a beautiful nine year old blonde tabby who was very shy but very affectionate and playful once he got to know you. He went very quickly and peacefully. While he only lived with us for about 4 months, my husband and I grew quite fond of him. Rest in Peace, little fellow. It’s amazing how much animals can mean to us and how they can touch our lives.

For the past few weeks at the Open Stage Theater in the Strip District, my husband and I have been enjoying the Pittsburgh New Works Festival.  Inspired by the plays I saw, I’ve decided to try and write one.  I have a few ideas scribbled down and I’m now trying to decided which one/s to try and flesh out.  I enjoy live theater very much and if you haven’t seen a play recently, I’d like to encourage you to do so.  It’s a very unique and artistic entertainment experience.

Also checked out the Pittsburgh Renaissance Festival.  It had actually went out of business about 2 years ago, which made me sad since I hadn’t had the opportunity to check it out.  Now that its back, I made a point of it and my husband and I had a great time.

Graduation is coming very soon…December 2007.  My life will be a little less crazy.  I’m looking forward to it, and dreading it at the same time as my experience at Carlow University has been very positive.  Wish me luck!

Thanks to those who have sent short notes checking up on me.  Once school is over, I’ll have more time for blogging. 

Peace and Love,

Janette

This poem is a little unusual for me.  I’m not sure I like it, but it is definitely how I’m feeling about things…

She’s Quite a Ride

Well,

The summer classes didn’t go quite as well as I would have liked, but I ended up with a B+ in both classes, so I guess that’s not too horrible.  My GPA is at a 3.65, and with graduation set for December, I’d like to see if I can somehow pull it up to a 3.7 to graduate magna cum laude.  Where it is now, I’d graduate cum laude, which is okay too.

Please keep my dad, Bruce, in your prayer and thoughts.  He has been in the hospital since May, which is why I haven’t really been posting.  I have been taking the weekends to go how to Lansing, Michigan.  This has been exhausting me, having done it for the past five weekends, so this weekend I decided to stay in Pittsburgh and just rest.  I’ve been spending a long time talking with my Dad and learning his life story, and he has overcome so much in his life.  I am not sure how much time we have left, but one thing I am grateful for is that there are no loose ends between us.  He has been the kind of Dad that I could always be open and honest with.  Anything I have wanted to say to him, I could do so without repurcussion or fear of being rejected.  That kind of acceptance is hard to find.

Peace and love to all of you.  I’ll be around now a little more since my Dad has insisted that I take a few weekends off.

Summer Finals are this week!  Wish me luck!

I’m a little behind on my Xanga reading because I was doing a lot of homework this weekend.  I did take some time for fun and spent Saturday at the Three Rivers Arts Festival in Pittsburgh.  Lots of fun!  Saw some great painting, sculptures, etc,  a glass blowing exhibition and heard some great music.  Also drank fresh squeezed lemonade and enjoyed other culinary treats such as Chicken-on-a-Stick and corndogs.  The heartburn was wretched but the food was sooo tasty.

Well, Garth and I, after nearly five years of marriage, had The Talk.  You know the one, should we or should we not try to have a baby.  I’m not sure how I feel.  I know I’m 34 and not getting any younger, but I feel like there is so much I want to do yet.  I think if you have a baby, it should be the number one priority in your life.  I’m not sure I’m ready for that yet, but if I’m not now, will I ever be?  This is probably a bit personal for a blog I guess, but I wrote a poem about what I thought it would be like in those moments when you are the only one who knows that you are pregnant.

Secret Mother

Lying atop a king-sized bed absorbing the
sounds of starlings and crickets in these
pitch dark first moments of morning,
I feel your hidden breath synchronize with mine.

A sleeping calico lies curled on my womb
as if she knows to warm you in the cool dawn.
Your father sleeps beside us and dreams of
climbing apple trees and riding railroad cars.

I rise and walk to the window, open the glass
to the scented air of marigolds and chives.
The sky is lucid and cloudless, and I think I see
your curled tendrils and golden cheeks in the stars.

Hello,

I don’t usually write much in the line of surrealist poetry, but this piece may qualify as such.  It’s another mosaic poem, since that format seemed to fit the theme best.  Anyway, your feedback is always appreciated.

Thanks,
Janette

Dreams of Sleeping in the Rain

March 5, 2005

The first was of a body, lifeless, floating in the Monongahela River.
Droplets fall like acid and burn my face, the acrid odor of decay
forces wakefulness.  The edge of the water covers and retreats from
my transfixed shoes as her red hair flaps out like an Oriental fan.

November 18, 2005

I float drowsily on the back of a black swan, leaning on the erect, proud neck.
A docile rain shimmers and resurrects the dying pond.  The swan
raises his head to drink in the clear water, crying out in joy.
His singing sounds like liquid diamonds.

August 4, 2006

A sinister child with dark orange eyes prods my corpse with a stick,
scratching my forehead as he moves the hair from my unchanging gaze.
He kneels to dig through pockets, his hands stained with blue water.
Anger resusitates, and I clutch his wrist against the backdrop of downpour.

December 17, 2006

The Snow Queen sits at a piano on the edge of the lake,
playing Tchaikovsky as my skates cut Celtic spirals on the ice.
I lay on the glacial sheet as falling snow turns to wintry rain.
She sings and plays on to a frozen Beauty.

February 12, 2007

I dream that I cannot reach him and the keys for our house
do not work.  The phone goes unanswered, piercing the silence
like an exploding clock.  The flicker of the television illumines
his eyes and the popcorn.  I sleep on the deck as it begins to rain.

I’ve been exceedingly nervous about the reports I have heard that cell phone usage is disrupting the natural patterns of bees.  They are so important to the world’s ecosystem, helping plants to reproduce, and thereby keeping us all fed.  Recently, science has offered another hypothesis that it may be an unknown disease that is killing off the honey-makers.  The reason they give for this theory is that bees get their direction from the sun, not from auditory information, so it is unlikely cell phone waves are throwing them off kilter.  Either way, I hope they find an answer and fix the problem soon.  Here is a poem for the bees.

Bees

A royal priesthood, these sons of the Queen
say goodbye to her in search of sunlight,
following the maps of song and dancing.

They skip like dust on the edge of morning
to steal a pollen kiss from petaled lips,
the sweep of mouth a brush of fairy wing.

They are the makers of pyramids, of
menacing cone hives in a child’s nightmare,
harbingers of honey, pain, and flora.

Does the exquisite music of radar
foil the impenetrable procession?
Do not bid farewell in delectation.