Saturday, January 12, 2019

SOMETIMES Poetry Becomes Real . . .


I've been trying to get out of the habit of commenting on my work - somehow explaining it in advance.  The work should speak for itself, yes?  But I do want to say that this poem was inspired by a real devil of a week, and a real late afternoon nap where I dreamed like I had not in well over a week. In that magical dreamworld, two dear friends came to me . . . 


Dream Therapy
by Judith Cullen
© 2019

Dragging the week behind,
doubt, fear, sorrow, and pain
thudding at each labored stair,
an accumulation of fighting
weighting every step, till I drop.

Subsiding into dreams, expecting
more monotone wanderings -
tears unexplained, unshed and
more steps, more labors till
somehow the fog would clear.

Sunday, January 6, 2019

POEM: The Inverse Laws of Nature



Inverse Laws of Nature
by Judith Cullen
© 2019

Nature is composed, we are taught
of immutable laws, immovable realities.
Change, challenge, departure are things
we impose using the tools of mortality:
desire, hubris, and occasionally need.

Limited options of docile acceptance,
or wrestling the universe into submission.
In our haste to control destiny, we miss
the perverse nature of the natural, choosing
to interpret bluntly, without nuance.

Wednesday, January 2, 2019

FIRST POEM OF THE NEW YEAR: "Welcome to the Light"



Come to the Light
by Judith Cullen
©2019            

"Come to the light," they implored.
While I, blackened fog, lurked uncertain,
wrapped in blankets of complacencies,
familiarities, and chilling sufficiency leading
to the same inexorable cycling.

Reaching out from beneath the comforter
hands touch mine, "Come to the light,"
they repeat in chorus, "We miss you, join us."
They cannot pull me bodily from my gloom,
the impulse must be my own.

Monday, October 29, 2018

HALLOWEEN STORIES! Bring Them On!



It's always a good time for a story, but never so much as when the weather chills, and people become inclined to gather 'round the fire - singly or in groups - and enjoy ghostly tales of spookiness.
 
Another of my short stories has been translated into video form.  This one is, conveniently, a ghost story based on an actual legendary haunt from Luxembourger lore – the Stierches-geescht.
 
Ghost of the Bridge will release this afternoon, and will be available for viewing either at 
https://vimeo.com/297398536 or at SLArtist-Designing Worlds, Episode DW382. It’s my third year writing for their Halloween Special.  Last year was an adaptation of The Legend of Sleepy Hollow that turned out to be very popular, and the previous year one of the stories from my Irish canon, In the Mist.

Oh, AND if you haven't yet seen Arrivals & Departures, it's another of my stories that you can enjoy in video form. Not spook-a-licious, though.
 
Submitted here for your Halloween week enjoyment. They are not It’s the Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown, but they are something that I am proud to share.

Okay, so nothing published this year.  Yet it has been a very fertile year for writing, so publications can't be that far away!

Wednesday, August 29, 2018

NEW POEM: Straight Up Without Explanation


Hubris
by Judith Cullen
© 2018

Don't try and explain,
to those trying on
life like a new suit.
Full of knowledge
bursting, seeing what  
is right so very clearly
from their new shoes.

Don't fuss or worry.
In six months all
will change to new
fashions, discoveries.
All will be the correct,
proper garb for the
very righteous.

Thursday, August 23, 2018

IN A LIGHTER MOOD: "Signs & Portents*

And now, for something slightly different ...

The Milky Way galaxy with the constellations Cassiopeia and Cepheus.
 Original from NASA. Digitally enhanced by rawpixel.  Public Domain.

Signs and Portents
by Judith Cullen
© 2018

Cracks and lines in the pavement
have no actual orthopedic import.
Stomp as you will, sidewalks are not
an avenue for parental retribution.

Just because Mom hollered out the window
"Stop it!" in 1972, and the snow ceased,
Does not mean she controls the weather.
So you can put that telephone down.

Yes, it began to rain that summer day
while you worked with your friend.
He is not lucky, like a jade Buddha.
You certainly may not rub his tummy.

In a seemingly random universe,
teetering between control and chaos,
we grasp for meaning where we can,
hoping for a hand hold on surety.

Whether it actually exists or not
we find comfort in the occasional,
embracing cosmic import in the
fortuitous fidelity of coincidence.

##

Saturday, August 18, 2018

NEW POEM: It Took a While, But I am Learning

There's a beauty in being at ease with someone - of NOT feeling the necessity to be connected every moment.  Seriously, I was not a big dater in my youth - being notable for a different type of popularity: being well-known and respected. (*makes "gacking" teenager sounds*)  At a time when my contemporaries were bumbling through the early trials and errors of couple-ness, I was planning the dances and special events they would attend.  I'm still kind of that way.

So I learned how to "be" with someone late. Really late. I won't call it "love" because I am too old for that presumption.  But it does still have some of the trappings - getting excited when you see them after several days, knowing all the correct buttons to push for fun, comfort, or calm.  Knowing someone well enough to know when to just "let be" without carrying that residue with you afterwards.

I am grateful for the lesson that relationships, good ones, are not about two halves making a whole - they are about two complete persons keeping each other in balance.  And for however long they are destined to last, they are to be treasured.



Keeping Company
by Judith Cullen
© 2018

Wisps of ivory lace, black trunks.
It all seemed so frantic before you,
the crazed heady rushing,
near desperate uncertainty.
The compelling, the potent,
overwhelming exhilaration.

Gentle caress, your finger on my arm.
The stark difference still jolts,
of two who drifted together,
slow moving magnetic forces,
two planets easing into
soothing conjunctive orbit.