All Souls Day

Celebrate

All souls day
The balance of the year spent
The day half dark
Half light

Samheim
The Wiccan says
Greeting of the pagan
New Year

Glorious day
Sitting upon my stoop
The day not hot
Not cold yet

Oh, if I could
Just cast a spell
To hold this delicate balance
Another week.

(c) J. Binford-Bell

I Lived Here Once

Lived Here Once

I lived here once
Ten, twenty, thirty
Was it, could it be
Almost forty years ago
My wild and crazy youth.

The best of years
Or the worst
Oh, so very hard to say
Can a block of time
Be categorized so simply.

Or was it not the place
Or even the companions
Some band and some good
But an age, the times, and yours
The seventies and your twenties.

Yes, I lived here once
In so many ways so familiar
And now at times so strange
I've looked at those vistas
Driven that road.

It was once so much narrower
But weren't we all
Our trim days of youth
Spent drinking tequilla
Smoking pot.

Where did those dangerous curves go
On both the road and our bodies
Our flaunting of speed limits
And societal norms
We have grown up and the neighborhood out.

Oh, Yes, I lived here once
Before Bella Vista was torn down
And when the Triangle Market was at the triangle
When Pete's was Pete's
And we all wished for a deli.

It isn't Salsalito just yet
But getting oh, so close
The rebels are hard to find
But no longer too far out to invite for tea
There are three delis now

Tequilla and brownies
Are now wine and cheese
Coffee and bagels with lowfat cream cheese
Once seven bars and one church
Now the reverse, is that good?

Thirty eight years ago I moved here
Thirty two I moved away
Taking memories
Some good, some bad
Which don't always fit with my returns.

Yes, I lived here once
And parts of me have moved on
But some of me lingers
Reluctant to leave
There were good times here.

My rebellious youth
Has also gone the way of the neighborhood
My bell bottom figure belled
Too many delis and cafe lattes
Too little speed.

I lived here once
The neighborhood is not the same
But then again neither am I
The 60's are not my 20's
The 70's are long gone.

(c) Jacqui Binford-Bell

The opening picture is called Rural Route and is one of my "hill and dale" paintings. They are of no place specific but just generally northern New Mexico rural areas.

Poetry Wednesday - Jane

Jane
What to say about Jane
An old friend
Yes.

History
Jane and I have history
A new friend said
Yes.

Yes
Jane and I have tales to tell
of each other and to each other
Tales going way back
Past.

A past
With secrets Jane and I share
Which we can reveal
Or not.

Not
Was the answer before
What difference does that make
Now?

Jane
Of a thousand things said
And only a few
Withheld.

Secrets
Make us sick
Or keep a friendship
Whole?

Or not
Is our present
Based on that secret
Less?

Then
It seemed so not to matter
A favor to not share
Shame.

Now
Jane curls in upon herself
Like a tree around an ax strike
Scared.

Then
Was it mine to keep inside
Or hers she kept from me
Ours?

It
Sits between us now
Is it too late to excise
This wound?

If
I were to speak of it now
Could she even admit
It?

And
Would the wound thus opened
Be larger
Worse?

Festering
An opening coming
Way too late for us
For Jane.

(c) J. Binford-Bell

Surrealism

Latest painting. Number 17 of those I have done since my last big art fair. This one is only 11 x 14 and like many of those of that size probably a study for a bigger one at a later date. I like the surrealistic view of the world and especially the canyon lands of where I live.