“Tarnished” by Shirley Ballard R.I.P. (87 years)

long nails and silver rings

hands that speak a gesture

for words…

silver chains around my neck

with bracelets on my arm

a silver watch that keeps

no time

Shirley Ballard (86 yrs.)

(Miss Calif. 1944)


L. K. Thayer’s Foto Fetish

Thank you for all of your love

and laughter Shirley…I am happy

you are free to party now!

I love you…

your BFF Lisa 🙂

© 2o11

“pre-coffee self absorbed Sunday morning private pre-poem mind ramblings” by Sam Spade


Time, Where did it go?

I sit here

Wondering on God’s thumbnail

My place in the whole scheme of things

Did I make the right decisions?

If time is infinite

Then I should meet myself

Back where I started

On that infinite bow tie loop,

If I made the right decisions?

If I made the right decisions

Would I be looking at myself now

Across God’s thumbnail

Thirty degrees to the left

My other self

thirty degrees to the right.

Should I have not merged with myself by now

On God’s thumbnail.

Or did I make all the right decisions

And just don’t comprehend.

Across a chasm of lost time.

Do I jump

Risking eternal damnation

In a loop of lost time.

Or am I in hell on the infinite loop time

Self absorbed

Separated from myself

By myself

Thirty degrees to the left

I jump

Reunited with myself

Happy, joyous, and free

On the infinite bowtie loop of lost time


God’s Thumbnail.

Sam Spade

L. K. Thayer’s Foto Fetish

© 2010

“The Fierce In-Urgency Of Now” by Mark McNease

Once upon a campaign
a future president convinced us
the now is fierce and urgent.
I have discovered his error.

Now is not urgent.
Now is a flower in a moment,
a bee on its petal. Now is a rock
washed over by a stream.
Now is one hand held in another.
Now is a breath taken. Now is a sigh.

Now is death, passing life on its way out.
The most revolutionary thing
we can do is slow down.
The only thing urgent is to
pay attention. The only thing fierce
is to know you are alive.

Mark McNease

Photograph by L. K. Thayer

© 2010

“It Doesn’t Make Sense” by Vicki Batkin


So much disparity among us
Not much sense in being tawdry

To me, at least
Ringo turns 70 this week.

I don’t like the art of noise
Nor the openness of silence
I do like the honesty of both
However, it doesn’t take much
To heap a cheap man!

All these thoughts
Jam my brain
How could it make sense
To the common man?
I’d give you the privilege
To walk inside my brain
But I’ll reserve that
For my adoring husband

It’s getting foggy now
It wasn’t when we started
I think I should take a nap
Maybe it’ll stir things up
And land in a dream
How can it be…
Ringo turns 70 this week?

Vicki Batkin

© 2010