lingering presence
beckons as it disappears—
a perfumed cleavage
Thursday, October 12, 2006
Friday, October 06, 2006
cherry blossoms
by Karyn Huntting Peters
I sometimes start from a dream where
I have left the earth for a time,
forsaking seasons and cherry blossoms and
rain, to find only empty once-filled cups I have
left to dry in a sun-warmed window box.
I sometimes start from a dream where
I have left the earth for a time,
forsaking seasons and cherry blossoms and
rain, to find only empty once-filled cups I have
left to dry in a sun-warmed window box.
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
soul hibernation
by Karyn Huntting Peters
the sun, its warmth on my shoulders, the
azure above all a cruelty of a fading Indian
summer. the ugliest colors flit about on the
street, colors of autumn, the harbinger of gray
rainy hibernating souls. deciduous trees will
bear none but tears until spring’s buds come
anew, green and bright.
spring so far off in the distance cannot look
back and see the gathering clouds this day
brings, the flutter of this brittle leaf before me
as it falls ever-so-quietly and pointedly down,
down to the ever-colder and harder ground below.
the sun, its warmth on my shoulders, the
azure above all a cruelty of a fading Indian
summer. the ugliest colors flit about on the
street, colors of autumn, the harbinger of gray
rainy hibernating souls. deciduous trees will
bear none but tears until spring’s buds come
anew, green and bright.
spring so far off in the distance cannot look
back and see the gathering clouds this day
brings, the flutter of this brittle leaf before me
as it falls ever-so-quietly and pointedly down,
down to the ever-colder and harder ground below.
crystal unicorns
by Karyn Huntting Peters
o crystal unicorn!
walk on digital water,
to violet mountains translucent
across the inland sea.
starry, starry night
and the smooth, white stones
are so inviting at water’s edge—
i am wont to stop and contemplate,
but it is all too lucid,
and i watch melancholy
as gentle fingers without a face
take my hand to hold it up—
come, enter the next level,
dream now, eyes open,
o lucid one of the unicorn!
o crystal unicorn!
walk on digital water,
to violet mountains translucent
across the inland sea.
starry, starry night
and the smooth, white stones
are so inviting at water’s edge—
i am wont to stop and contemplate,
but it is all too lucid,
and i watch melancholy
as gentle fingers without a face
take my hand to hold it up—
come, enter the next level,
dream now, eyes open,
o lucid one of the unicorn!
lantern
by Karyn Huntting Peters
how amusing!
these words, formed and
spewed forth as a testament,
in truth but the lamented burning
of a lantern on some
desolate ocean’s cape.
how amusing!
these words, formed and
spewed forth as a testament,
in truth but the lamented burning
of a lantern on some
desolate ocean’s cape.
silent music
by Karyn Huntting Peters
silence
rings within the silhouette of
silences past, moving transparently within
me, its outstretched fingers playing a reminiscent
song of understanding to the
accompaniment of far-off
music.
silence
rings within the silhouette of
silences past, moving transparently within
me, its outstretched fingers playing a reminiscent
song of understanding to the
accompaniment of far-off
music.
Welcome to Victoria
by Karyn Huntting Peters
This is Alex and me not quite four years ago. We were meeting the family in Vancouver, BC, for a Holland America cruise through the Alaskan inside passage. I took Alex up several days early and we hung out together, going to the park, kickin' it in coffee shops, and shopping at the great boutiques in downtown Vancouver. Great exchange rate then.
I found out what a hassle it is to travel solo with an infant. We had to pack for two full weeks, for both summer in British Columbia and a cruise where it could get cold. Just the cruise itself called for two formals (yeah, like they make a tux in size 3-6 months), casual wear, you name it. I packed two weeks' of diapers (that's 140 to be safe, for those who don't know), cans of formula, toys, a huge stroller (which you see here), and the kitchen sink.
Going through the hassle of customs to board the ship was the worst. Ramps, long lines. Papers at the ready. Big honkin' suitcase for mom. Had to bring videos and books and all that, too. Alex's suitcase. Stroller. Big Samsonite diaper bag. The purse to beat all purses. Baby (can't forget the baby). No wheels on Alex's suitcase, and the wheels on mine broke. Grrr. Can you see us on the gangway going bump-bump over every one of those horizontal bumpy things? I was literally kicking the suitcases ahead of us the last quarter mile.
Ah, but me, you know. Independent. I don't need any help, thenkyouverymuch. No, mom and dad, I am not incapable of taking my baby on a vacation to another country and on a cruise. Not a problem at all. They thought I was crazy. When the cruise ended, I stayed another couple of days in Vancouver with Alex, then we drove the car onto the car ferry and headed for Victoria, British Columbia. I love that city. We got a great deal on a hotel, a nice one with roomy accomodations. How, you ask, did I manage that during tourist season?
There was no hotel parking, even for a loading zone. No baggage carts, no nothing. You had to park in the eerily vacant lot two blocks away. At night. Alone. They had no bellhops, no stewards, nothing. I get to the door, finally, after having kicked the suitcases uphill two blocks (now you know how I broke the wheels). I'm sweating like a stuck pig, Alex is hungry, I'm starved, and all we want is to rest and eat. Lovely old elavators in a lovely old building. And you guessed it. Out of order.
Up four (count 'em, four) flights of stairs. Suitcases, diaper bag, purse, stroller, baby, and a lot of really bad swear words coming out of my mouth. It could have been worse. The three employees standing around in the lobby (the ones who would not help us, even when I offered to pay them) could have refrained from smiling and saying, "Welcome to Victoria!"
Key in door, bags on floor. Back down four flights of stairs with baby and paraphenalia. Restaurant? Closed at 5:00 pm. F**king son of a b**ch! Naughty traveller. Naughty. Bad mommy. Nothing open for blocks, and that's as far as I can go. Truly. The nice, nice employees let me exchange some American dollars for those looney things that work in the Canadian vending machines. Stale candy bars for dinner. Yum.
But hey, it was worth it. I could afford it, and it had been a rough six months as a single mom. I needed a vacation. Boy, this was the life. Actually, aside from Hotel California and the fact that there was no food in sight, it was good. I love Victoria.
This is Alex and me not quite four years ago. We were meeting the family in Vancouver, BC, for a Holland America cruise through the Alaskan inside passage. I took Alex up several days early and we hung out together, going to the park, kickin' it in coffee shops, and shopping at the great boutiques in downtown Vancouver. Great exchange rate then.
I found out what a hassle it is to travel solo with an infant. We had to pack for two full weeks, for both summer in British Columbia and a cruise where it could get cold. Just the cruise itself called for two formals (yeah, like they make a tux in size 3-6 months), casual wear, you name it. I packed two weeks' of diapers (that's 140 to be safe, for those who don't know), cans of formula, toys, a huge stroller (which you see here), and the kitchen sink.
Going through the hassle of customs to board the ship was the worst. Ramps, long lines. Papers at the ready. Big honkin' suitcase for mom. Had to bring videos and books and all that, too. Alex's suitcase. Stroller. Big Samsonite diaper bag. The purse to beat all purses. Baby (can't forget the baby). No wheels on Alex's suitcase, and the wheels on mine broke. Grrr. Can you see us on the gangway going bump-bump over every one of those horizontal bumpy things? I was literally kicking the suitcases ahead of us the last quarter mile.
Ah, but me, you know. Independent. I don't need any help, thenkyouverymuch. No, mom and dad, I am not incapable of taking my baby on a vacation to another country and on a cruise. Not a problem at all. They thought I was crazy. When the cruise ended, I stayed another couple of days in Vancouver with Alex, then we drove the car onto the car ferry and headed for Victoria, British Columbia. I love that city. We got a great deal on a hotel, a nice one with roomy accomodations. How, you ask, did I manage that during tourist season?
There was no hotel parking, even for a loading zone. No baggage carts, no nothing. You had to park in the eerily vacant lot two blocks away. At night. Alone. They had no bellhops, no stewards, nothing. I get to the door, finally, after having kicked the suitcases uphill two blocks (now you know how I broke the wheels). I'm sweating like a stuck pig, Alex is hungry, I'm starved, and all we want is to rest and eat. Lovely old elavators in a lovely old building. And you guessed it. Out of order.
Up four (count 'em, four) flights of stairs. Suitcases, diaper bag, purse, stroller, baby, and a lot of really bad swear words coming out of my mouth. It could have been worse. The three employees standing around in the lobby (the ones who would not help us, even when I offered to pay them) could have refrained from smiling and saying, "Welcome to Victoria!"
Key in door, bags on floor. Back down four flights of stairs with baby and paraphenalia. Restaurant? Closed at 5:00 pm. F**king son of a b**ch! Naughty traveller. Naughty. Bad mommy. Nothing open for blocks, and that's as far as I can go. Truly. The nice, nice employees let me exchange some American dollars for those looney things that work in the Canadian vending machines. Stale candy bars for dinner. Yum.
But hey, it was worth it. I could afford it, and it had been a rough six months as a single mom. I needed a vacation. Boy, this was the life. Actually, aside from Hotel California and the fact that there was no food in sight, it was good. I love Victoria.
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