Progression

“People seem ugly”

(Paraphrased with thanks to The Doors)

People are befuddling,
people are strange.

Known quantity or stranger:
it is impossible to know what they think or to explain how they act.

Is humanity beyond research, beyond insight, beyond reason?

Have we lost the ability to see beyond our ingrained, myopic opinions?

Has humankind determined its own extinction by choosing to believe,
and to repeat obvious nonsense on a closed loop?

Talking into an echo or to the reflection in a mirror achieves nothing going forward.

Blinders on our eyes, fingers in our ears, and venom from our lips keep us in dizzying spin.

Eventually, unless we take better care we will all get thrown from the merry go ‘round.

Ronda R. Scott-Marak

© 10 May 2017

Reach out in the Darkness

(Thanks to 'Friend and Lover' for the inspiration for the title)

When I am alone, at least alone in my mind
everything disoriented and out of place
Carrie Newcomer is my therapist.

When my spirit is chilled, my plans in disarray
I need a voice telling me that it will somehow all work itself out.

Then I turn to the safe place of Carrie’s sumptuous timbre.

When I am feeling despondent and low
hopelessly, deep-down blue
Ann Hampton Callaway is my healer.

When all the colours of my life have leached and merged to shades of grey
I need someone whose Blues are deeper than mine.

Then I seek out the shelter of Ann’s resonant tones.

When I am in doubt about my place in my world
uncertain, perplexed, and in doubt
Rupert Holmes is my comforter.

When I need to dampen the insecurities of life before I’m overwhelmed; 
I need an intelligent reminder that the World is a complex structure.

Then I seek the philosophical libretti of Rupert.

When my spirits need lifting, 
my lungs need filling, and my joy re-ignited
Debbie Friedman is my candle.

When all seems gloomy, my light dimmed; 
I need to experience the sensations and emotions of joined voices and sweet, minor melodies. 
Then I turn to Debbie Friedman to remind me to sing out and breathe in.

When I am lost and need to find my path,

when I need strength for the battle
Patti Cathcart is my beacon.

When my potential seems diminished;
I need Tuck and Patti’s light and inspiration.
Her boundless, untethered scat and Tuck's miraculous fingers are the hallelujah to my prayers.

Words and music, rhythm and voices
the style, the ideas, the perceptions can open the heart and calm the mind.

The resolution of joy and pain, madness and melancholy;
eased in the resolution of a chord.

Ronda R. Scott-Marak
© 19 April 2017

Blue Skies

 "Noticing the days hurrying by"

(With thanks to Irving Berlin... and the 4 musketeers)

I want a new life, a new house, a new world,
a new dream, a new existence.

I want a puppy, electronics and mechanical things that actually work,
and a reality that doesn’t need repair.

I want friends that answer when I call.

I want to smile and to laugh.

I want pain I can live with instead of abiding by its rules.

I want a vacation from worry, a holiday from stress,
free time without demands.

I want a new mattress and comfortable pillows.

I want fresh air, time to rove and nowhere to be.

I want authors and musicians I love to never die,
at least not until after I have.

I want concerts and museums, theatres and galleries.

I want sight-seeing in cities and walking on seashores.

I want health and happiness, and love and joy;

I want “blue skies and palomino ponies”.

Ronda R. Scott-Marak

© 11 April 2017

Easy like Sunday Morning

(With thanks to Lionel Ritchie)

Water soft on my skin, 
warmth soaking into my bones, 
the faint scent of rosemary and eucalyptus: 
silence except for my breathing 
measured and deep, 
eyes shut against the ambient light.

I sink into my mind's world, 
moving pictures behind closed lids, 
and the whisper of sandalwood.

Ronda R. Scott-Marak

©9 April 2017

Insult to Injury

 “Anger destroys your soul”

(With thanks to Marvin Gaye)

You expect an apology;
what are you waiting for…
go about your day, live your life,
what makes you imagine anyone will admit they were wrong?

You believe there was injustice;
maybe there was…
so what if people were harmed,
just who do you think will take responsibility for the damage?

Your feelings were hurt;
was it their fault or yours…
who won the argument doesn’t really matter,
do you know who is winning the war?

Ronda R. Scott-Marak

© 30 March 2017

Ephraim

 "and I can see the fire on the water"

(With thanks to Chris de Burgh)

Sun glitters brightly

like prisms of broken glass 

on rippled water

Shadows dance and dip

amongst the bobbing colours; 

strangely shaped reflections

Upon the surface

mirrored trees and grasses dance

across the harbour

Masts on horizon

slowly glide beyond eyesight

tinted sails in sun

  

Ronda R. Scott-Marak

© 23 March 2017

Rites of Passage

"It's alright to pass away"

(with thanks to Irving Berlin but especially to Nathan Jacob Goldstein)

I dreamt of my grandfather in his Masonic apron;
presumably upon the morning of his funeral.

There was rain on his glasses,
or maybe it was only tears in my eyes.

He peered out through the bow windows onto the avenue as if searching;
maybe it was tomorrow that he was searching for in vain.

He warned me that they wouldn’t let me go
that the elders deemed me too young.

He and I knew better but the choice was never ours.

He held me to him tightly;
you are allowed to cry, but not to mourn
because you will be always here in the circle of my arms.

He was right, they wouldn’t let me no matter my mother’s and my pleas;
but he’s visited me since both in waking and in dreams.

I am always encircled in his afterglow.

Ronda R. Scott-Marak

© 21 March 2017