 | VIRGINIA SCHULTZ is a poet, meeting planner, taijiquan teacher and runner. Inspired by inner and outer landscapes and the bounty of nature, often in its edible form, her poems appear in “China Impressions,” “The Moon and Other Observations” and “I’m Pregnant, Pleased To Meet You.” Cherishing the company of all who dare to be poetic, she co-founded wordbywordjourneys.org, inspiring over 100 K-12 teachers to incorporate poetry writing into their curriculum. |
Running by an Abandoned Tennis Court
Today in the rain/snow mix, we ran,
left, right, left, right, an out and back.
The long-ago abandoned tennis court,
now overgrown with grass and trees,
pavement cracked and heaving,
watched once right to left, once
left to right as we trundled past
on the damp trail from cars to
aid station and back again.
“I guess Nature doesn’t play tennis.”
she mused on a gentle out breath, “Or,
maybe she does with a much different
set of rules.” And, thus began our story
about the now crowded court with years
between volleys of grass, wind-blown
seeds, a losing squirrel who
in a temper tantrum planted
the tulip bulbs. We speculated
about the various sizes of round,
points scored by each sphere that fell
straight to the ground and found
a way beneath the pavement to turn
toward the light, germinate and grow.
Some games won by height, others
the greenness of leaves, points for
the slow elegance of the wind,
trees’ ability to withstand storms,
shelter the rabbits and raccoons.
A game of much more patience
than ours, one of un-bridled belief, one
with no strategy – only opportunity,
dependent on the graceful gifts
of rain/snow and sun, the occasional
cheer from a crow, held as it all was
in reserve behind a chain-link fence
that served most of all to keep
the humans out and allow
the possibility that something
would one day from its
silken cocoon emerge to take
the final set, close out the match,
and allow us all to move on
to the next round in a long,
very long game.
Virginia Schultz
Day Thirty for Tiferet
April, 2016
Gunbarrel/Boulder, CO
for Dawn Watson
—
STAIRWAY TO HEAVEN
Does the stairway go
up, as we culturally
expect, or down?
Into the Earth,
among the worms, warm
rock, moist soil, seeds
sprouting, root web
entanglements, tiny
streams, grand caverns?
Beneath the ditches,
lining the fields of
our food, our
relationships, catching
the sweet nectar of
what is left and gently
passing to another
place, another time,
an-other form of qi?
Or/and lie on the sweet
surface walked by 2-legged,
4-legged, more-legged,
rubbing belly-crawlers, a
bowl for the water of
fin-swimmers, the landing
place for wing-flappers?
Both/and, found
in the dantian
swirl of energy, pulled
from the top of my
head, the bottom
of my feet. The blend of
above and below, here
in the center of me,
the center of you,
Heaven and Earth
in our bellies, no
stairway needed,
none – none at all.
Virginia Schultz
10:26 a.m.
Day Twenty-nine for Tifert
April, 2016
CU-Boulder Campus, CO
light rain on the car roof
and undisguised thoughts
—
On Your Invitation to Ginny’s for Dinner and Poetry
She is finally on poem 999 today – free of wilful obscurity
and embracing her humor albeit a bit wobbly and not
always entirely successfully. I plan to just relax and allow
myself to be drawn in! If we are lucky, once #1,000 has
seen the light of day, the next ones may just sparkle with
clarity and mystery as good poetry should.
I’d say jump in – it’s worth an evening’s investment. Food is
usually fresh from the Farmers Market, the menu card is
quaint, table setting nostalgic. Definitely worth your time if you
can wangle a draught of J.B. Becker’s German wine! The
conversation is easy and inviting, connections and
connectedness will effortlessly come to light. Best of all –
positivity has a place at the table, usually between opinion
and quirkiness. No miserable poets anticipated to be in
attendance.
Sincerely, B. Collins
P.S. One more enticement is their strawbale home which
is worth a look-see, wolf or no wolf.
Virginia Schultz
Day Twenty-eight for Tiferet
April, 2016
Boulder, CO
with all apologizes to Billy Collins
whom I haven’t met and may or
may not be amused by my
appropriation of his sentiments.
Dinner is Saturday at 7, by the way.
—
uni – verse
one – song
Doubt nothing – No! kinda here.
hyphenate to heart’s content,
make up words, needalate,
synonymize, juxtapate
know how to pay attention,
stay with passion, prickly
amusement, surprise, silliness,
lyrical juiciness, the shoreline
a bird flying backwards, the green visible wind,
emerald leaves, scented flowers, golden aspen,
stolen sensations, captured words, borrowed ideas,
leaving it all behind on the page
Leaving is a form of memory- making.
thought to hand, pen to pad, encapsulated
forever, wisdom, observation, association
made a memory – mine and yours
top hat, pink socks and a snowdrift
never too young, never too old,
brave-up, lean-in, reach-out, play
up and down the treacherous halls
of cleverness and profundity,
encourages the writing of more poetry
I close the notebook on one and then
in the morning, in this one wild and precious life,
I rise and wonder, Now, how to amuse them to-day?
Virginia Schultz
Day Twenty-seven for Tiferet
April, 2016
Thank you – Prince Ea, Mary Oliver,
Jack Collom, Colum McCann,
Humans of New York, Billy Collins, A.A. Milne
—
Day Twenty-six: Feel free to add to the list.
Street intersections that should exist, but don’t. Although,
maybe they do on some “meta”…”gorical” level. Some funny, some
silly and some really should exist! A list, in no particular order…
Birth Court & Death Lane
Gratitude Street & Peace Circle
Peach Way & Pie Plaza
Bit Road & Bot Drive
iCircle & Apple Orchard Lane
Gallop Road & Trotter Circle
Crumb Corner & Pittance Way
Trouble Row & Money Boulevard
Marionette Way & Strings Alley
Peanut Butter Lane & Jelly Drive
Wake Up Lane & Alarm Avenue
Smile Crescent & Frown Street
Cake Walk Parkway & Rotund Plaza
Stardust Lane & Divinity Way
Round Circle & Straight Street
Commoner Place & Royal Court
Learning Road & Smart Drive
Participle Avenue & Conjunction Crescent
Tai Chi Circle & Qi Gong Way
A Avenue & Two Z Road
Lazy Street & Industrious Drive
Gandhi Drive & Resist Row
Allegory Alley & Metaphor Circle
Stream Street & Meadow Parkway
Tomaytoe Trace & Potaytoe Place
Tomahtoe Trace & Potahtoe Place
Chaos Crescent & String Street
Yoga Alley & Pretzel Drive
Cross Road & Lost Junction
Garden Place & Grow Avenue
Complete Circle & Undone Drive
Boat Row & Sail Street
Dream Drive & Only Choice Avenue
Fly Road & Cloud Crescent
Doubt Place & Kinda Drive
Love Way & Only Road
And, of course, the one that does in truth exist here…
Poetry Place & Tiferet Trace!
Virginia Schultz
Day Twenty-six for Tiferet
April, 2016
Boulder, CO
At the corner of
Silly Circle & Profound Place
—
180
raindrops fall, follow
their cosmic pattern, bi-
ped feet, step, step,
beat, beat, beat,
perfect cadence, beat
180 – 180 – 180
light step, push off,
light step, push, light,
beat, beat, breathe
in, left, step, step,
light, breathe, deep,
breathe out, right, one,
two, three, left, right,
left, beat, beat, arms,
step-push feet, beat
swing in rhythm, beat
180 – 180 – 180
move, float, breathe,
beat, beat, thinking
fades, arms swing,
left, right, left, right,
breathe swings un-
thinking, time ticks
off minutes, beat,
beat, step, push, step,
swing, step, breathe,
swing, push, step, one,
two, left, right, one,
tick, tick, breathe, tick,
float, step, push, arms,
feet, breathe, mind
entrain to tempo, beat
180 – 180 – 180
surge of power, speed,
move more ground, swell
breath, lean in, step, push,
arm arc elongates, push
back, push off, swing,
swing, push, step, push,
muscles flex, recoil, spring,
recoil, the curve of earth
felt, push, she reciprocates,
responds in new speed,
beat, push biped feet,
beat, arms, push, push, beat,
perfect cadence, beat,
180 – 180 – 180
—
WIND IN A CACTUS
Metallic “s” hiss
swells from within
background noises.
My teeth ache.
Whatever! Why?
Waxed-in right ear?
Virus, parasite, lack
of phosphorus,
enlightenment?
What?
I hear the “s”
hiss in words I
say to myself.
I hear the hiss of
electricity’s hum
that usually goes
un-recognized, un-
noted, un-heard.
I hear the hiss
of my hand brush
across my face.
Earlier today,
I heard the wind
singing through
the hollows of
a chollo cactus.
My ears fine-
tuned from
twenty-six
days of poetry.
Virginia Schultz
Day Twenty-four for Tiferet
April, 2016
Boulder, CO
seeded March 28
—
Full Moon – Buttons
She traces through creation
stories, constellations, romances, rising
here from a shortgrass-prairie horizon
to set behind Foothill Flatiron trio.
Providing a dream-window to other realms.
From pale silk to lemon-yellow
velvet, fingerprinted mother-of-pearl – smaller,
paler, more smudged – increasingly
worn down as she arcs overhead.
Tiptoeing into my dream’s scene to check on me.
The pull of tides, rotation, the spin
of the big-blue-ball draws her down
behind the slabs of rock, over a waking
doe, swooping owl, the stream obeying gravity.
Walking through the sun’s closet undressing, button by button.
Although actually, truthfully,
we/I slide under her, while
she stands watchingly still, lovingly
on guard, regal and fully clothed.
Reflecting the comforting light of day into the night.
Virginia Schultz
Day Twenty-three for Tiferet
April, 2016
Boulder Valley, CO
—
Subject: How To Meditate
6:13 a.m. MDT
Can I be quiet for a few minutes? How long?
Deep breath… What time is it? Maybe I should set the timer, 5 minutes. What time is it? Ok, 3 min and then decide. Timer set. Deep breath, could be deeper, better, relax my shoulders….
Is it a minute? Wow… Sit up straighter. Have to remember to grab my phone… 3 … … contracts today would be perfect and tell
Elizabeth to open…… Hope the violets are blooming by WilVil. Breathe, sit up. … relax … deep … breath, deep, ….. hummm, I like this
……. is good. Must be almost done! …….
….. …….. Where will …. Steve …. ………
next ….. is …. AAnd ……… …..
DING …… ……. N b be ………..
Blink, deep breath, blink, blink, must I, must I ….. get up?
Sweeeeeet! 6:20 a.m.!
I didn’t even hear the timer go off : -)
That’s meditation for you!!!!!
maybe 10 minutes tomorrow,
maybe not
Virginia Schultz
Day 22 for Tiferet
April, 2016
Longmont, CO
composed on an iPhone
when not meditating
—
Skin That Holds The Pen
Net of existence
conveyor of information, formed
structured, barrier to danger
receiver of moisture
transformer of sunlight
-holding in while keeping out –
Keenly interacting with
the world of words, wind,
warmth, the give and take
of ecstasy, of pain woven
among shivers and softness
Cells dividing
membranes weaving and re-weaving,
repairing, re-plumping,
faithfully
UNTIL in one
flip of the switch
one moment in time
it dissolves
unwinds into only
memories
Virginia Schultz
Day Twenty-one for Tiferet
April, 2016
Gold Hill, CO
MMM at Amara’s
—
Round the Briar
Going round and round the briar
Singing, twittering we dance
Arms float, legs prance
Spring in her full fire
All day into night, we never tire
Lost as we are in a revel’s trance
Going round and round the briar
Singing, twittering, we dance
We swirl, twirl, spiral like flames of the pyre
Dawn grows neigh, we must leave nothing to chance
Plow the fields, gently seed, get ready to tend the plants
Bring all together in love’s embrace, the mare to the sire
Going round and round the briar
Virginia Schultz
Day Twenty for Tiferet
April, 2016
Gold Hill, CO
Snow covering Spring, as yet.
—
I HOPE I DREAM
Did I dream that dream
or just wish I had – the perfect
mixture of attention, adornment
flying un-aided over treetops in
star-lit skies, floating on
the gentle waves of a
salty sea for hours
on end? Was it you
that awoke me
to this dream or you
who stole me
out of this
impeccable connection
between ecstasy and timelessness,
the ability to dive down and
fly underwater without
needing to breathe?
Now with a day’s-end yearn
I lie down and close
my eyes in hope.
Virginia Schultz
Day 19 for Tiferet
April, 2016
Gold Hill, CO
—
FOUND LOST SHENANIGANS RECONCILED TANAPIPATKULCHAI
TO ESTRANGEMENT WITHOUT ENTITLEMENT EFFORT
He wasn’t going to be Japanese
for long, TANAPIPATKULCHAI
lost among, entitlement, shenanigans,
estrangement – 1,822 buckets full
dripped from the trees, eggs danced
the Tango while Argentina
burned, marathon runners swam
alongside 18 octopuses’ with 8 arms
each =ing 144 ways to eat jam,
karmic jam.
He found the effort was worth it
his legs reconciled on Boylston
to his arms without precisely
establishing exactly where
they, them and each might be.
Virginia Schultz
Day Eighteen for Tiferet
April, 2016
Boston Marathon Day!
—
ANGELS AND AIR
We waded through knee-deep, wringing-wet snow
bush wacked a trail up onto the plateau
Meadowlark flushed from a yucca-framed cave
a robin sang its song, chilled and brave
Mud-slush soft where the flakes met the ground
a cushion to both feet and to most sound
sheep’s-wool-encased feet stayed warm although wet
early morning from bed I did not regret
Eyes strained at seeing the expansion of white
that let beige-browns and greys have a chance to loom bright
On the mesa warmth-melted snow increased the slop
but made for a much easier slog along the creek at the top
Community Ditch brings snow-water to fields waking up
a clever way we manipulate the tip of the cup
2-leggeds trekked in cadence to earth’s rhythm, her rhyme
we trekked delightfully entrained to the floating of time
All thoughts released on their wings, through a prayer
our minds free to perceive the way angels move air
Virginia Schultz
Day Seventeen for Tiferet
April, 2016
Marshall Mesa in 20” of Spring snow
Eldorado Springs, CO
—
QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS – page 189
MASK OF EVERYTHING ELSE
—
Keeping the Turquoise Dress Until She Comes Back
Tears are not enough anymore, hope is fading (she won’t ever come home)
Stolen in a land where violence masquerades as religion, among frenzied prayers
to an invisible ruler to make order of things, to make a wrong a right
No god can save humans from power-driven humans, humans willing
to kill others – blow up little girls in their bomb vests (she won’t ever come home)
Willing to steal another life to feed their own spiritual starvation, killing
themselves bit by bit in the process, until the world is meaningless and their
being so wounded – no god, no religion, no amount of absolution can heal them
Two families die four deaths, the dress is folded, forgotten, time ticks away
the memories, until forgiveness finds a lost minute, until that certain hour strikes
and reconciliation arises – the balance of power returns wearing a turquoise dress
Virginia Schultz
Day Thirteen for Tiferet
April, 2016
Boulder, CO
—
DRINKING FROM THE WELL
I find myself
drinking from
the well of inspiration.
Wielding poetry
as a way to
get people to notice things.
Not(e)-(t)ice, pick out
this or that
but only what I have words for.
Words are the unit
of thought
measurement of what we see.
So, how do I
describe patterns
of frost on my car windshield?
I do wonder about
delights I am missing
having only a monolingual mind.
Virginia Schultz
12:49 p.m.
Thank you, Alan Watts
Day 12 for Tiferet
April, 2016
Blue-sky, puffy-cloud,
thunder-head day in Boulder.
—
HAIKU
Pen, cob and cygnets
Around the neck of the bay
A long string of pearls
——-
Spring fog among pine
Robins sing from branch to branch
Both true to themselves
——-
Melody of words
As sunrise is to morning
A poem unfolds
——-
Virginia Schultz
Day 11 for Tiferet
Gold Hill, CO
—
SIX WORD SUITE
the slant of your head gives
pleasure to our kiss
your soul trembles, be
told it is a
holy vow that
now sends
rivulets of love
through mine
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Pleasure!
In rivulets then torrents
through my nerves,
slanting left and right, bringing
untold ecstasy, my hand trembles
in yours, our eyes close.
Release, holy heavenly release.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Rivulets of rain
slant down every pane
no pleasure to be out
gusts up to 50 knots we’re told
body trembles …… holy cow, it’s cold
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
ice-melt rivulets cascade and drop
into crevices, the cracks widen, she
trembles in anticipation, gives birth
to a cathedral of an iceberg, the slant
reflects sun, its light flashes through
the holy prism of Ginny’s Glacier and
she feels the stinging pleasure of blue ice
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Virginia Schultz
Day 10 for Tiferet
April, 2016
Boulder, CO
—
Solo et pensoso i piú deserti campi
vo mesurando a passi tardi et lenti,
et gli occhi porto per fuggire intenti
ove vestigio human l’arena stampi.
from the 35th Sonnet in “Il Canzoniere”, by Francesco Petrarca
translation: Anneliese Schultz
Shrouded in vermillion cloth, hoisted
onto the pyre, a bed of fresh-cut and aged
woods, latticed like the palm fronds climbing
their trees, they will go with you in flames
ashes return to ashes, a smile to smoke,
how can I go on and not burn with thee
unshrouded, unburnt, so undone by
loss, your essence evaporated from one body,
still unmistakably and irascibly entwined with me
Solo et pensoso i piú deserti campi
(Alone and lost in thought, I range the deserted fields)
Mixed emotions, my head hung
low between sore shoulders, grief
unbearable yet warm to the touch, familiar
to me now, each day that I awaken it greets me
patiently almost kindly, knowing that I do
need its presence to face the day without thee
without your breath sharing mine, without that
sense of the divine that was carved into your aura
present in every step you took, now I flee
vo mesurando a passi tardi et lenti,
(with slow and dragging steps)
Old grasses stand watch, wait for the mourners,
laborers of grief, soon will come the soil turners,
the planters of seeds, new life will emerge in the symphony
composed for birds, manure, worms, bats and bees,
ashes turned over and over and over in my
mind, each step dragging through memories of thee,
a butterfly rests on the stalk just ahead, far horizon
steals my thoughts, lifts my gaze to the possible,
the future, the now-real journey away from a we
et gli occhi porto per fuggire intenti
(eyes peeled to keep from places marked)
For my way is unmarked, uncharted, unknown
a destination to which I now travel alone, thou
many and more and more make the same trek
from funeral pyre, consumed ‘til the flame
flickers out, an ember hung in a heart-lamp, to
glow forever faintly in me, a gift from thee
strike the match, it is time all have gathered, burn
hot and high, consume my grief, turn
me to my new path, trust – untouched it be
ove vestigio human l’arena stampi.
(by human footsteps in the dust.)
Virginia Schultz
Glosa
Day Nine for Tiferet
April, 2016
Boulder, CO
—
pleasure rivulets riot, rejoice, reject
slant towards holy
trembles be told
—
CORNER WINDOW, MYRTLE BEACH
Aunt Buzz’s Window on Alzheimer’s
Corner sink was a good decision, damn
mind like my brother’s, fading they say,
not me! I can give away whatever amount I like whenever and to
whomever I want, azaleas
look terrific this year, Florida
room needs that shingle
replaced, the shed
a coat of paint. What year did I meet her?
1952 or was it ’54, Sally
or is that her name, she calls on the phone no,
can’t be,
not sure
who calls so late…
Jeez! Sink is full, juice glass
from Hollis. What bird is that? I used
to know, damn I’m lonely
need a trip, the car – Did I have one? Fast,
I love
going fast, azaleas
look terrific this year, terrific
we planted
those bushes when
we first moved
here, was that
How long ago? What year is this? Hell,
I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know
anymore, azaleas
look pretty this year, bet
it is one of the best years, ah
Spring, I love her. Is she
in the living room? Are you there?
Woo-hoo, woo-hoo, azaleas
look really terrific this year, damn this
corner sink was a terrific idea…
Virginia Schultz
3:25 p.m.
Day Eight for Tiferet
April, 2016
Broomfield, CO
—
Black white entwined
Yang to my yin
entangled
Two forks rest
—
—
LITTLE SLEEP, BUT RESTFUL
Up to greet
Cars moving drivers to
Early morning destinations
Including coffee, knowledge,
Communications, announcements and
Information exchanges.
Melodies of emotions,
Calamities, niceties, competition,
Climate’s weather, faint
Hopes of reconciliation whispered
In the undertones of
Absolution and
Hatred.
Drivers moving cars past
Emerging grass blades, tree
Blossoms, a skunk ready
For sleep, restful and
Untainted by the stink
Of free-wheeling self-interest,
Nestled down with her kits in
The bed of commonality.
—
Score Cards at a Poetry Slam
PICK ME, PICK ME
Slim and smooth. Notice that
simple sleek, straight line
here at the bottom of the pile?
Isn’t anyone slamming bad
enough? A missed metaphor,
a foggy reference, too
much profanity for profanity’s
sake, gosh darn it! Haven’t
seen the light of day in
months! Get real and deliver
a one.
Yo, two’s my name. Got
a curve and a curly goin’ on.
Twice the value of that line,
twice as robust. So,
humble a few and hold up
a two.
Curvaceous – oh, la, lahhhhh
should be waved around
often, more often… There
are slipups in delivery, You
know, you’ve heard it. That
poem just presented about a
mystical tree and a robotic bee,
come on – it definitely was
a three.
Gettin’ some daylight, but
my tans fadin’ hello! Almost
feel asleep and you let
that one go? A hiccup on
horseback, my ass. How,
how can you possibly
let that pass? Boom –
rough ‘em up with
a four.
Dancing and shuffled and
parading around – a tango,
a contra, a foxtrot, a waltz.
Four heads getting filled up!
The hour is late, Oh, just give
a five, six, seven or eight.
Hey, exhaustion is setting in
can there be a break? They
all don’t deserve a curve
and a straight! Saving the
best for the last? Now, THAT
was a very, very exquisite
line – score it
a nine.
Hah! TOP OF THE PILE!
Rarely held up – the line
and its mate. Yes! SAVE
it for the perfected
sound, syntax, meter,
metaphoric dimensions
that came through a pen.
Yes! By all means
a ten.
—
The Sideboard
An undulating landscape
bubble-emptied bottles s
time stamped in ink k
dishes of acorns r
sea-rocks quartz (among) o
sprung-free champagne c
sweet grass braid (next to)
sea-shells —- sea-weed
decaying dice in a leather cup
a ruffle of feathers prayer-stick tied
orange-ed aspen leaf-ed twig (by)
ancestral horse show trophies
MIT Mile pewter cup
seasonal postcard rotation (of)
sail-ships along sea-shores
O’Keefe’s apples
Degas’ bathers
The sideboard standing
100-years-steady (offers)
a map of connections
a pocket for memories
a ledge for life’s dust
Virginia Schultz
Day One for Tiferet
April, 2016
Boulder, CO