Posted in Poetry 1990's, Poetry 2010 - present, tagged Gaia, March, nature, poem, Poetry, seasons, spring, writing on March 13, 2019| 40 Comments »
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Earth’s belly growls
when the wind
scours the valley
and rain swells the sky.
.
Shadows loosen,
pressing more tightly
under rocks,
clinging closer to fences
and trees.
.
Flickers arrive
flashing new red
under their wings
.
while down below
the garden stirs —
and Gaia’s favorite color
is green.
.
.
(c) 1994, 2019 Betty Hayes Albright
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Posted in Poetry 1990's, tagged 1971, aging, hippies, In a gadda da vida, Iron Butterfly, Johnny Cash, poem, Poetry, time, youth on January 30, 2019| 55 Comments »
.
.
In-a-Gadda-da-Vida
we danced to our favorite
solo of drums
till Keith turned on
Folsom Prison Blues
and we dosey-doed
in a square-dance spoof,
Tom’s arm
in-a-cast-in-a-sling
but feeling no pain,
for we couldn’t see
through the smoke in the room
and we would be young forever.
.
When the haze finally cleared
to reveal gray hairs
we still felt the beat
in-a-light-a-day-now
as butterflies —
and it’s not really bad
being older.
.
.
© 1992, 2019 Betty Hayes Albright
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(Re-post, reminiscing about the good old days, Iron Butterfly’s hit song “In a Gadda da Vida”, and Johnny Cash’s “Folsom Prison Blues”.)
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Blurry photo from 1971 (age 24), taken at an outdoor rock concert at Seattle Center.
Dig the hat! 😊
(I’m pushing a stroller with 6 month old son sleeping inside. He happens to be 48 today. Geez, time flies….)
Posted in Poetry 1990's, tagged empathy, grief, Love, mourning, poem, Poetry, snow, winter on December 13, 2018| 28 Comments »
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I still remember
your winter mourning
when you were dark-empty
.
and I reached
through the ether
and wrapped my arms
around your shadow
tasting your hard tears
.
and you stood taller than light
with grief,
new-fallen and noble
as the snow.
.
.
(c) 1994, 2018 Betty Hayes Albright
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Posted in Poetry 1990's, tagged evolution, forgiveness, humanity, light, Love, poem, Poetry, redemption, spirituality on December 7, 2018| 28 Comments »
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We chose to climb this mountain
through old brambles, over ice
.
cursing barbs that scratched our ankles
damning thorns that tore our veils,
.
splitting stones that skinned our reason
as the thunder rolled our tongues.
.
Now we reach the sacred fire
and our hair turns scarlet
.
as we catch the embers, naked
and the circle dream awakens
.
to paint balm across the valley,
bleeding light into our wounds.
.
.
(c) 1993, 2018 Betty Hayes Albright
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(An old poem, revised and dedicated to H.D. Rhoads, my mentor years ago.)
Posted in Deep Water, Poetry 1990's, tagged Earth, Gaia, poem, Poetry, release, shaman, spirituality, truth on November 9, 2018| 42 Comments »
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The day comes
when his totem
tumbles to the ground
and he commands silence.
.
He empties his pouch
of tooth and claw,
spreads his eagle wings
and flies to the top
of the mountain,
.
and with one last glance
at the ashes
and the shattering,
he sighs, and
disappears
into his own truth.
.
.
(c) 1996, 2018 Betty Hayes Albright
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Posted in Poetry 1990's, tagged humanity, nature, poem, Poetry, spirituality, storm on October 18, 2018| 32 Comments »
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It blows in
from the sea,
that ancient wind –
splitting in half
around the mountain,
.
and where it meets itself
on the other side
it clashes thunderously,
failing recognition.
.
.
(c) 1994, 2018 Betty Hayes Albright
.
Posted in Poetry 1990's, tagged calling, darkness, drums, evolution, freedom, hope, injustice, justice, light, poem, Poetry, spirituality, truth on October 6, 2018| 26 Comments »
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Deep in the folds
of the flannel of night
we hear the drums call –
.
ba ba boom.
.
Our eyes open wide
as we chew through the shackles
and dance ourselves free –
.
ba ba boom.
.
Up the spiral we climb,
our candles held high
to shatter the gloom –
.
ba ba boom.
.
At the top we leap clear
of gravity’s hold
on the weight of our words –
.
ba ba boom.
.
We land on the sun
where we tear off our masks
and meet our true Selves –
.
Ba Ba Boom, Ba Ba Boom!
.
.
(c) 1993, 2018 Betty Hayes Albright
.
(a re-post, revised…. written in 1993)
Posted in Poetry 1990's, tagged creativity, ditty, frustration, humor, light verse, muse, poem, Poetry, verse, writer's block on October 4, 2018| 41 Comments »
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Your muse didn’t run away,
she came to visit mine today.
.
I watched them climb the cedar tree
to drink their mountain berry tea,
.
and as the sky turned into rain
I watched them climb back down again.
.
They danced until their feet were dry –
and then I heard them call goodbye,
.
and now my muse has gone away –
it seems she fled with yours today.
.
When they arrive, please send her home
to change this verse into a poem.
.
.
(c) 1994, 2018 Betty Hayes Albright
.
From 1994; dedicated to anyone else who has ever suffered from writer’s block!
Posted in Poetry 1990's, tagged country song, Dad, farming, farms, horses, Love, memories, nostalgia, Oklahoma, poem, Poetry, Strawberry Roan on September 22, 2018| 48 Comments »
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On Sundays we’d drive
to the cemetery,
just me and Dad.
He’d talk softly
to his departed son
and arrange fresh flowers
on the grave.
Then standing tall,
he’d blow his nose
and tell me it was time
to put some miles on the car,
and we’d head east
for the country roads
where he’d point his corn cob pipe
at the tiny farms
and talk about Oklahoma,
then sing a chorus
of “The Strawberry Roan”.
Sometimes we’d pull over, and
he’d sniff the air and smile –
and then we’d turn around
and head for home.
.
.
(c) 1992, 2018 Betty Hayes Albright
.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d_yfmKMK4mo
Posted in Deep Water, Poetry 1990's, tagged clay, Deep Water, fire, Love, memories, passion, poem, Poetry on September 11, 2018| 43 Comments »
.
.
Broken words
soak in the cold brine
of memory,
soften in our hands
like cinnamon clay.
Let us carve new curves
fit for the touching,
ready for the fire.
.
.
© 1993, 2018 Betty Hayes Albright
.
(Pencil drawing from 1965.)
Click on image for more info.
Seasonings 