tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29173429570792906392024-03-05T04:36:00.831-08:00infinite possibilityleslie eugeniahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609946470898670250noreply@blogger.comBlogger76125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2917342957079290639.post-46143912793756043472018-04-17T20:22:00.001-07:002018-04-17T20:22:10.547-07:00The Mourning After
I lost my virginity in the age of innocence.<o:p></o:p><br />
<o:p> </o:p><br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Worthy is the lamb, who was slain.<o:p></o:p></i><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
In the fake, gilded age of Trump<o:p></o:p></div>
loathsome words bleed from 45’s mouth<o:p></o:p><br />
oblivious to the collateral damage.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And when you’re a star, you can do
anything—</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>grab them by the pussy. You can do
anything.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Nightmares revisit my dreams<o:p></o:p></div>
evolve into wide-awake<o:p></o:p><br />
out-of-the-blue triggers.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">If Ivanka weren’t my daughter…<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
I watch <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Kill Bill</i>—read
a Vachss novel<o:p></o:p></div>
detachment being key<o:p></o:p><br />
to amputating anger.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Such a nasty woman.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Shunning invasive images, I turn<o:p></o:p></i></div>
to focus on strands of moonlight<o:p></o:p><br />
weaving through venetian blinds.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">leh</span>leslie eugeniahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609946470898670250noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2917342957079290639.post-6059402456846737682018-04-17T20:17:00.002-07:002018-04-17T20:17:22.296-07:00The Last Selfie
Until I took one too many steps backward,<o:p></o:p><br />
closer to the edge of the Hoover Dam bypass,<o:p></o:p><br />
it had been a good life.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
What an odd moment to recall an albatross<o:p></o:p></div>
named “Wisdom” being the oldest wild bird<o:p></o:p><br />
in the world, that is, per a scientist<o:p></o:p><br />
stationed on the Midway Atoll,<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
and the last movie that made me cry,<o:p></o:p></div>
For the Love of the Game, when Billy Chapel<o:p></o:p><br />
pitched a perfect game, then retired his arm<o:p></o:p><br />
from the boys of summer.<o:p></o:p><br />
<o:p> </o:p><br />
I’m still falling—against the wind—<o:p></o:p><br />
guess it’s going to be <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">one
of those days</i>.<o:p></o:p><br />
<o:p> </o:p><br />
I wonder how old that albatross is—<o:p></o:p><br />
they didn’t say.<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">leh<o:p></o:p></span><br />
leslie eugeniahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609946470898670250noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2917342957079290639.post-48614536556191684812018-04-17T20:05:00.000-07:002018-04-17T23:51:31.319-07:00A Non SequiturDuring an X-class flare, a coronal mass ejection<o:p></o:p><br />
is suspected of beaching whales in the North Sea <o:p></o:p><br />
while a light breeze in Northern California brushes<o:p></o:p><br />
across my face like a cobweb floating<o:p></o:p><br />
on my optic lens, followed<o:p></o:p><br />
by a rain of bullets falling in Las Vegas<o:p></o:p><br />
and Maria’s powerful wind<o:p></o:p><br />
destroying lives in Puerto Rico—<o:p></o:p><br />
or is it winds, plural<o:p></o:p><br />
like the winds that drove<o:p></o:p><br />
the Wine Country fires<o:p></o:p><br />
and the Santa Ana winds<o:p></o:p><br />
that propelled the SoCal fires—<o:p></o:p><br />
air and water are singular<o:p></o:p><br />
except, there are gusts of air<o:p></o:p><br />
bodies of water<o:p></o:p><br />
and plural suns, if one thinks<o:p></o:p><br />
beyond our solar system, our galaxy<o:p></o:p><br />
our universe, our parallel universes.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<span style="font-size: x-small;">leh</span>leslie eugeniahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609946470898670250noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2917342957079290639.post-75782689725545697642017-04-01T22:24:00.000-07:002018-04-17T20:25:53.570-07:00On Our Way Home<a href="https://attachment.outlook.office.net/owa/lesliehoffman@hotmail.com/service.svc/s/GetFileAttachment?id=AQMkADAwATZiZmYAZC04NzhkLTBiMDEtMDACLTAwCgBGAAADIW%2ByjjGLo0etQYNWgenriwcAX5Sl7xbQoU%2B52uSnuwWZygAAAgEMAAAAX5Sl7xbQoU%2B52uSnuwWZygAAAGS2rK0AAAABEgAQAEuqIv%2FnVMdHgcxOYpZIrmc%3D&X-OWA-CANARY=BCnHB-RDr0aejJehta4DUPDgqwiLedQYBR0dBXuV7tNciQjcDhFQoPbxEwxyp4b7in4tGj1dqno.&token=a3bb1725-91bd-4c76-98a1-8292f79fac83&owa=outlook.live.com&isc=1&isImagePreview=True" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img autoid="_ad_2" border="0" src="https://attachment.outlook.office.net/owa/lesliehoffman@hotmail.com/service.svc/s/GetFileAttachment?id=AQMkADAwATZiZmYAZC04NzhkLTBiMDEtMDACLTAwCgBGAAADIW%2ByjjGLo0etQYNWgenriwcAX5Sl7xbQoU%2B52uSnuwWZygAAAgEMAAAAX5Sl7xbQoU%2B52uSnuwWZygAAAGS2rK0AAAABEgAQAEuqIv%2FnVMdHgcxOYpZIrmc%3D&X-OWA-CANARY=BCnHB-RDr0aejJehta4DUPDgqwiLedQYBR0dBXuV7tNciQjcDhFQoPbxEwxyp4b7in4tGj1dqno.&token=a3bb1725-91bd-4c76-98a1-8292f79fac83&owa=outlook.live.com&isc=1&isImagePreview=True" style="max-height: 390.71px; max-width: 920.26px;" /></a><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">What else could we do? With a tornado
gaining speed behind us and US 50 aiming straight as an arrow toward the
western horizon in front of us, Stefan and I joined in with Eddie Rabbit at the
top of our lungs, singing “Driving My Life Away.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Naively
discarding anticipation of the unknown, mother and son had plotted an
alternative route to break-up the monotony of the long drive from Arkansas back
home to <st1:state w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">California</st1:place></st1:state>.
Little did we know at the time, our greatest adventure would not involve
anything planned. Our greatest adventure would be dictated by Mother Nature.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>This
leg of life’s journey began in 1960 when I was sixteen-years-old and met my
birth father for the first time. Nineteen years would pass before I saw him
again. By then, Dad’s health had deteriorated, so I decided not to delay
introducing him to his ten-year-old grandson. With my husband’s blessing,
accompanied by several safety lectures, Stefan and I began planning a June road
trip to <st1:state w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Arkansas</st1:place></st1:state>
via historic Route 66.</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNJb9P5ej2nherPGWuj8IGB3WdMRCGRy4mlnsA7ATuV9N8REcvPA9J_k4ZWE35k3PhufRBUxtsPn-cM1GkWcptyxxtaTojBzRRj8HoB1ZTDSjVgNEaebgO0ONiNCYoQpaxHC-pBTYTaLem/s1600/Apr%252714%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="376" data-original-width="640" height="188" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNJb9P5ej2nherPGWuj8IGB3WdMRCGRy4mlnsA7ATuV9N8REcvPA9J_k4ZWE35k3PhufRBUxtsPn-cM1GkWcptyxxtaTojBzRRj8HoB1ZTDSjVgNEaebgO0ONiNCYoQpaxHC-pBTYTaLem/s320/Apr%252714%25282%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">###</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">On June 27, 1981, no longer estranged father,
daughter, and grandson exchanged silent hugs the morning Stefan and I departed
for home. Glancing back to see Dad waving good-bye from his front porch, mother
and son remained silent, each lost in personal reminiscing. Once emotions were
collected and tears wiped away, my official navigator reached for the road map
to plot our drive back to Route 66, now US 40. After a few age appropriate
expletive deleteds while wrestling with the map, Stefan instructed me to drive
south to Fort Smith where we’d merge west onto US 40.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Following
Stefan’s direction, I headed south out of the beautiful, albeit hot and sticky,
<st1:place w:st="on">Ozark Mountains</st1:place>. With air-conditioning and the
Eagles at full blast, mother and son settled down for a familiar drive home.
Approximately forty-five minutes later, we approached the cut-off to Tulsa. I
turned the car westward.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Hey!
Mom, you’re not supposed to turn here.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Stefan,
what would you say to no one in the whole world knowing where we are for twenty-four
hours—like real pioneers?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Cool!
Where are we going?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“How
would you like to see <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Dodge City</st1:place></st1:city>?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Awesome!”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“We'll
call your father after we get a motel room in Dodge.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Our
adventure began: east to <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Tulsa</st1:city>,
<st1:state w:st="on">Oklahoma</st1:state></st1:place>, north to <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Wichita Falls</st1:city>, <st1:state w:st="on">Kansas</st1:state></st1:place>,
then west on Highway 50, the so-called “<st1:street w:st="on"><st1:address w:st="on">Loneliest Road</st1:address></st1:street> in <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">America</st1:place></st1:country-region>,” which
roughly parallels the historic Pony Express Trail. Caught up in the moment of
mother and son bonding, the irresponsibility of this detour didn’t occur to me.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>As
we approached Wichita Falls, ominous black clouds churned above us. I turned
the radio on to hear a weatherman announcing the approach of a tornado and
instructing locals to take shelter in their storm cellars. Stefan and I looked at
each other and simultaneously said, “Put the pedal to the metal!” Ignoring
speed limits, <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Wichita Falls</st1:place></st1:city>
rapidly faded into the background while Eddie Rabbit belted out “Driving My
Life Away.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Now,
it occurred to me that I'd made an irresponsible decision. No one, not even my
husband, knew where we were. Not wanting to worry my son, I planted a smile on
my face and began mindlessly chattering about how exciting it was to be
surrounded by lightning bolts as far as the eye could see. And, after all,
Kansans are friendly people, so if the tornado gained on us, we’d seek shelter
in someone’s barn. Silently, I prayed, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Dear
Lord, please protect my son from harm. I promise to never do anything this
stupid ever again.</i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>By
the time we reached Dodge City, none of the AAA approved motels had any vacancies.
Exhausted, starving, and nerves frazzled, our only recourse was to continue
cruising the main thoroughfare until we found a vacancy. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Do my eyes deceive me, or...</i> Not trusting my eyesight in the torrential
downpour, I asked Stefan, “For real...is that neon sign really flashing ‘Vacancy’?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“It’s
real, Mom! Go for it!”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>After
securing the last vacancy in town, I parked in front of room number four. We
grabbed our overnight bags, walked from the car across the sidewalk, fumbled
with the door key, and entered our room sopping wet. Stefan headed straight for
the bathroom. I collapsed on the nearest bed, wet clothes and all.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>When
Stefan emerged from the bathroom, I said we’d call his dad right after I took a
hot shower. I wanted to be calm and composed while confessing to my bad
judgment. As I pulled the excessively long shower curtain to one side of the
tub, an image of the shower scene in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Psycho</i>
flashed before my eyes. I called Stefan to come look at the shower curtain that
was so long it draped across the bottom of the tub. That was all our frazzled
nerves needed. Mother and son broke into screaming laughter that drowned out
the loud music coming from the party in room number three. Our sides still
aching from laughter, we called home.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“It’s
about time you called! Are you both okay? Where are you?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“We’re
in <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Dodge City</st1:place></st1:city>,
and we’re both fine.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“What
are you doing in <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Dodge City</st1:place></st1:city>?!”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Stefan
and I thought it’d be fun to drive north to <st1:state w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Kansas</st1:place></st1:state> and take Highway 50 west. You know,
stop off at <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Dodge City</st1:place></st1:city>
on our way home and see a gunfight....”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And
that’s what memories are made of.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">~ text & photo by leh</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"></span><br /></div>
<br />leslie eugeniahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609946470898670250noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2917342957079290639.post-45816746934262631742017-02-02T11:31:00.003-08:002018-04-17T19:59:58.883-07:00Hereafter<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;">I’m meeting him in Vasona Park</span></i><span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;">my
friend whispered</span><br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;">--isn’t life wonderful!</span></i><span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;">My musings
temporarily interrupted<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;">of the
plot in Madronia Cemetery</span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I’d inherited by default<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;">where
“notable individuals” are interred<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiH-QvYZIOaQ2cMjt2MSN_dTQkZDv4098wFt-pXd2-wYia-qmbsNQV7YJLAxrHpMVuZLf6JqS4zkrdZpxxyamLR88ZtNwPdrzsnzkRWWh5CI08lfqX5_FrfO0W6Mr7cBJW6tqP9bZpTaOC/s1600/Leslie%2526Lynn%255B1%255D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiH-QvYZIOaQ2cMjt2MSN_dTQkZDv4098wFt-pXd2-wYia-qmbsNQV7YJLAxrHpMVuZLf6JqS4zkrdZpxxyamLR88ZtNwPdrzsnzkRWWh5CI08lfqX5_FrfO0W6Mr7cBJW6tqP9bZpTaOC/s320/Leslie%2526Lynn%255B1%255D.JPG" width="320" /></a><span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;">such
as Thomas Kinkade<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;">and
the second wife<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;">of
the Abolitionist John Brown<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>and my sister<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;">our
plots under a gnarly oak<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;">where
over half a century ago<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;">we styfled
giggles while dancing<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;">on
the ground above<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;">where
we had no idea<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;">we’d
be spending eternity<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>side by side<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>non-notably.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;">I'm sure I'll be a noisy love-maker</span></i><span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;">said my friend, while posing for a selfie<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;">--you know, like when you’re at a
funeral<o:p></o:p></span></i><br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="color: black; mso-ansi-language: EN;">and can’t stop giggling.<o:p></o:p></span></i><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">text & photo by leh</span>leslie eugeniahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609946470898670250noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2917342957079290639.post-81742834302139082512016-05-21T00:11:00.004-07:002016-05-21T00:12:41.946-07:00Caesura 2015 Fusion<em>Caesura</em>: Literary Journal of Poetry Center San Jose<br />
<br />
Editors:<br />
Erin Redfern<br />
Leslie Hoffman<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTsh88V3heEw2gessQORKnr0dU6S5juO1eoe_WwiyTMU6HKeI7BHCZ-cVBNsMiBwOTA-ClNiVKA5tGpsc6lcSdiP7BE_5ROyzJtqR38P0qsrpc9TPZzc0Pemvvro3itY8LRi2Y9WwOG-yZ/s1600/CaesuraFusion.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTsh88V3heEw2gessQORKnr0dU6S5juO1eoe_WwiyTMU6HKeI7BHCZ-cVBNsMiBwOTA-ClNiVKA5tGpsc6lcSdiP7BE_5ROyzJtqR38P0qsrpc9TPZzc0Pemvvro3itY8LRi2Y9WwOG-yZ/s320/CaesuraFusion.JPG" width="241" /></a></div>
leslie eugeniahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609946470898670250noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2917342957079290639.post-61243649208173001852016-05-10T12:19:00.005-07:002016-05-10T18:07:17.308-07:00Haiku XXIeventide stillness<br />
geese, in V formation, sail<br />
into setting sun<br />
<br />
leh<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
leslie eugeniahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609946470898670250noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2917342957079290639.post-62768861792285074822016-05-10T12:19:00.001-07:002016-05-10T17:53:27.747-07:00Haiku XX<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr9XHAruaJ3Uy4SZZpFlMKOuYFotKtccpd07nV3jObQJhxpFlj-tIYRKfN9rHXIVnjV0kjlQ-n5auuekKgJlWUmdp06gqwWtXS_v6LznSWQywGIhfyNRD0zkkJXI9B1MWwmhxu47L3f6IY/s1600/Mojave%255B3%255D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="115" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr9XHAruaJ3Uy4SZZpFlMKOuYFotKtccpd07nV3jObQJhxpFlj-tIYRKfN9rHXIVnjV0kjlQ-n5auuekKgJlWUmdp06gqwWtXS_v6LznSWQywGIhfyNRD0zkkJXI9B1MWwmhxu47L3f6IY/s320/Mojave%255B3%255D.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
land schooner tacks east<br />
sails across an ancient sea<br />
waves of coral grain<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">text & photo by leh</span>leslie eugeniahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609946470898670250noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2917342957079290639.post-22676529816872609932016-05-10T12:18:00.003-07:002016-05-10T17:57:52.049-07:00Haiku XIX<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFuJywtvL8WX4XW5NmVNSkEZQ7E-SLVxj_Kuhuf8xSyiO1kz_j1IBx5rP6S5AEae2cQiX2xn95K8uN9H2kFQ9kHVZOoSPDr5EYpqR3N9845rJnSu1PWbtZZDUbirBi-hhCoSThmwnWSbdW/s1600/RussianRiver.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFuJywtvL8WX4XW5NmVNSkEZQ7E-SLVxj_Kuhuf8xSyiO1kz_j1IBx5rP6S5AEae2cQiX2xn95K8uN9H2kFQ9kHVZOoSPDr5EYpqR3N9845rJnSu1PWbtZZDUbirBi-hhCoSThmwnWSbdW/s1600/RussianRiver.JPG" /></a><br />
<br />
<br />
dragonfly hovers<br />
summer still-life in motion<br />
above rippled stream<br />
<br />
lehleslie eugeniahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609946470898670250noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2917342957079290639.post-52799807328692295532016-05-10T12:17:00.001-07:002016-05-10T18:00:39.189-07:00Haiku XVIII<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0g_gb2gZiwbdlN9aT9XJOZ8ZzHeGUDT7AByJWzFsxOt9Gy4g1k6yrK2coRMHz97DP89Eenejyj8RbbTLBAIymC6phDDyU88QDs2pm2znjjsZFiuF7F7vqUa0Ktmmwy1cFt41aQ_zNHy5Z/s1600/Redwood.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0g_gb2gZiwbdlN9aT9XJOZ8ZzHeGUDT7AByJWzFsxOt9Gy4g1k6yrK2coRMHz97DP89Eenejyj8RbbTLBAIymC6phDDyU88QDs2pm2znjjsZFiuF7F7vqUa0Ktmmwy1cFt41aQ_zNHy5Z/s320/Redwood.JPG" width="257" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
redwoods sway, succumb<br />
to the wildfire's siren call<br />
fall one week away<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">text & photo by leh</span>leslie eugeniahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609946470898670250noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2917342957079290639.post-23194294818705892582016-05-10T12:16:00.001-07:002016-05-10T12:32:11.110-07:00Haiku XVIIchild carries bucket<br />
filled with water, stones beneath<br />
her callused, bare feet<br />
<br />
lehleslie eugeniahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609946470898670250noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2917342957079290639.post-23766335989770293942016-01-13T10:39:00.004-08:002016-01-13T15:38:32.053-08:00The Star of Bethlehem<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJxYYsJq2i29rib-TRqFN26SHY-q46elH4qsV99PkQxy-2X6NuNPm95Kp1Rghmk50AtgL4qiJI5bI7ykuD1DHdT7LWrS97FvQKub6vQ13ZINcraLZJ_B0XAhUfRWY0uk8OzPYJox_7b-Eu/s1600/TheStar.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJxYYsJq2i29rib-TRqFN26SHY-q46elH4qsV99PkQxy-2X6NuNPm95Kp1Rghmk50AtgL4qiJI5bI7ykuD1DHdT7LWrS97FvQKub6vQ13ZINcraLZJ_B0XAhUfRWY0uk8OzPYJox_7b-Eu/s320/TheStar.JPG" width="241" /></a><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">While the
newlyweds sealed their vows,<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">I glanced upward
through redwood boughs<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">to see the convenant
of Venus and Jupiter<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">that would guide
our way out of the canyon<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">into the valley
of lights and home beyond.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><o:p><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span></o:p><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">And I wondered
if two millennia ago<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">three Magi
witnessed this celestial glow<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">near Regulus and
the crescent Moon,<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">it guiding them
out of Galilee to unveil</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> a precious child
born king of Israel.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">text & photo by leh<o:p></o:p></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
leslie eugeniahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609946470898670250noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2917342957079290639.post-14634769927336638162015-05-17T16:50:00.002-07:002015-05-17T16:50:10.970-07:00The Scent of Almond Blossoms<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_-MU9xeuvLG_zVQlFmwul4AMVaqXX0y9nSEBs6TT0zO83ljmxliMVFUbj3-LUAls-s4nGhO97dj314_jJ-F8kLYn5h0iB6S6033njJx8MWtcY6gXFPKk9ROeAHbxl28hMHYSXoa0kfpro/s1600/AlmondOrchard.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="242" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_-MU9xeuvLG_zVQlFmwul4AMVaqXX0y9nSEBs6TT0zO83ljmxliMVFUbj3-LUAls-s4nGhO97dj314_jJ-F8kLYn5h0iB6S6033njJx8MWtcY6gXFPKk9ROeAHbxl28hMHYSXoa0kfpro/s320/AlmondOrchard.JPG" width="320" /></a>On
early March mornings, as tule fog<o:p></o:p><br />
begins
to lift in California’s Central Valley,<o:p></o:p><br />
winter’s
skeletons transform into trees<o:p></o:p><br />
and
a blush of almond blossoms<o:p></o:p><br />
carpet
orchard floors.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />Most
every morning, I’d walk through<o:p></o:p><br />
the
dappled light of the alabaster canopy<o:p></o:p><br />
until
I reached the canal, where I’d sit,<o:p></o:p><br />
adjust
my headphones, and lean back<o:p></o:p><br />
against
the scaly bark of my familiar tree<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />Getting
high on the scent of almond blossoms,<o:p></o:p><br />
nature’s
perfume, while Miles’ sweet-cream<o:p></o:p><br />
trumpet
played Gershwin’s “Summertime”<o:p></o:p><br />
when
the livin’ was easy<o:p></o:p><br />
when
the trees were still young<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Before
the scent of burnt almond<o:p></o:p></div>
permeated
the autumn sky—<o:p></o:p><br />
before
the Valley nodded off<o:p></o:p><br />
for
another winter, when the trees—<o:p></o:p><br />
and
I—were still young.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<br />text & photo by lehleslie eugeniahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609946470898670250noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2917342957079290639.post-38831517982522470652015-05-16T08:51:00.003-07:002016-05-12T18:19:10.304-07:00Haiku XV, XVI<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgXTcor_C9ywvO64YbT-qcUJcJBa58bar3bMk08q3WHF40p2cIRwTuLjIhRSftM6RDNwVz-327QioRt9b5d2qPwbDTucOC78HREeokmuI7rWTCOPOWGK9pN3S2l0W0yUGrM9Y1eM_WtaRF/s1600/IMG_3004+(1).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="242" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgXTcor_C9ywvO64YbT-qcUJcJBa58bar3bMk08q3WHF40p2cIRwTuLjIhRSftM6RDNwVz-327QioRt9b5d2qPwbDTucOC78HREeokmuI7rWTCOPOWGK9pN3S2l0W0yUGrM9Y1eM_WtaRF/s320/IMG_3004+(1).JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">XV<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">hummingbird hovers<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">so close I feel its wings’ breeze<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">cool my parchment lips<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">XVI<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">pollen everywhere<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">on mesquite, under mesquite<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">wafting in spring air<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<br />
text & photo by lehleslie eugeniahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609946470898670250noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2917342957079290639.post-22312657521097326162015-03-14T17:54:00.001-07:002017-06-30T23:37:50.080-07:00One Day In May<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpdI5UiQ7HYR_LpIsUC2g5jvjqAr9gxNfNNTZklXAjsmnrHkhKe7JCXPEm22gbsgxxXyR95Y-RTmpb-uoQxxM1dFO1RSqbh9RercSdzAbkrCvOKnIDL3DkX71XwNYpxzFZXomXjqnyjup3/s1600/CliffHouse1_022615.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="302" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpdI5UiQ7HYR_LpIsUC2g5jvjqAr9gxNfNNTZklXAjsmnrHkhKe7JCXPEm22gbsgxxXyR95Y-RTmpb-uoQxxM1dFO1RSqbh9RercSdzAbkrCvOKnIDL3DkX71XwNYpxzFZXomXjqnyjup3/s1600/CliffHouse1_022615.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; line-height: 115%;">Hey, Sis<br />
how’ya doin’?<br />
I know, dumb question.<br />
I got here in time--</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; line-height: 115%;"><br />
didn't I?<br />
Driving from Vegas<br />
memories of<br />
our crazy sister shit<br />
raced through my mind.<br />
The desert does that—<br />
focuses, clarifies.<br />
Can you hear me?<br />
It’s a beautiful day<br />
the sun is out – no fog –<br />
the ocean sparkles –<br />
diamonds and sapphires.<br />
Remember the last time<br />
we sat on Capitola Wharf?<br />
So vibrant<br />
like a Van Gogh painting—<br />
starry, starry afternoon—<br />
boats bobbing on the bay.<br />
Forgive my babbling.<br />
Does it bother you?<br />
Wish I could cry<br />
feel – something.<br />
God, I miss you.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; line-height: 115%;">Here,
let me lay beside you.<br />
I’ll keep you warm.<br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">text & photo by leh</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<!--[endif]--></span>leslie eugeniahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609946470898670250noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2917342957079290639.post-75455529655912990172014-12-28T17:54:00.000-08:002014-12-28T17:54:10.327-08:00Valley of Fire<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimFKn2blrl8QEh-NNsjevWGEtUXH6RITdDtvxra2VX6fJPm8XNXQQt1dBSWlroKurel6n7WLPahG84KlvoLmzjYtIoWnmHxkG0UVZG6YiUfFXZpCJhs4K9wl0efk0nfjfdg9VJqCvj5xse/s1600/VOF0003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimFKn2blrl8QEh-NNsjevWGEtUXH6RITdDtvxra2VX6fJPm8XNXQQt1dBSWlroKurel6n7WLPahG84KlvoLmzjYtIoWnmHxkG0UVZG6YiUfFXZpCJhs4K9wl0efk0nfjfdg9VJqCvj5xse/s1600/VOF0003.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
Silver etchings of cumulus clouds<br />
tower above Mesozoic sandstone<br />
<br />
vermillion waves wash<br />
across an ancient sea,<br />
spherical ripples blown<br />
by Mojave winds against<br />
sun-baked cliffs where<br />
wisdom of the Ancient Ones<br />
carved through desert varnish<br />
tells the story of hunters,<br />
the big horn and antelope<br /><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">life sacrified<br />
for collective survival.<br />
<br />
Shamans chant around<br />
sacred hoop sculpted<br />
from gathered stones<br />
cleansed by sage,<br />
warmed by juniper,<br />
a spiral sun carved<br />
into the petroglyph tableau<br />
shines down on cholla,<br />
prickly pear and maize<br />
<br />
life sustained<br />
for the Anasazi.<br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br /><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<!--[endif]--><span style="font-size: x-small;">~text & photo by leh</span></span>leslie eugeniahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609946470898670250noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2917342957079290639.post-79799349187817196022014-07-06T09:43:00.002-07:002017-02-02T11:05:03.127-08:00Grandfather's Rocker<div style="border-image: none;">
The creak of Grandfather’s rocker</div>
<div style="border-image: none;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUGXmX2EAcnHoykfYOmZySeXygG5HQu5Gs-IfJ-V46nnBzVj1mk3FwactbVR3uYJi8Vmr6_Q-1GsLizLuIZgw7GuYEvDzg8o2T1Xr1RjWgOPxTfE6S0udOcsZnqfPuXWDorqrzvM1N3DhT/s1600/WVCOAL.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUGXmX2EAcnHoykfYOmZySeXygG5HQu5Gs-IfJ-V46nnBzVj1mk3FwactbVR3uYJi8Vmr6_Q-1GsLizLuIZgw7GuYEvDzg8o2T1Xr1RjWgOPxTfE6S0udOcsZnqfPuXWDorqrzvM1N3DhT/s320/WVCOAL.JPG" width="320" /></a>on our wooden porch planks.</div>
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<div style="border-image: none;">
</div>
</div>
They have returned—the ghosts<br />
<div style="border-image: none;">
of black-lunged miners</div>
<div style="border-image: none;">
from a glossed-over wrinkle in
time</div>
when life was worn hard<br />
as a vein of lead, its spirit
subdued<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3FimwnRYngP4rBCHieCzgasgWlmG9YxNfkE-5MS9mggw_sAy2ha8UBtpZadJCu1Kls6nSpQM8SQD0o85EpZmbqmrstveqSYg6tMmGlBTf5GuLy88dhOlchrvCnzU7ReTa2C_BqcN8EyU4/h120/IMG_2972.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" class="jm-O-x" height="309" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3FimwnRYngP4rBCHieCzgasgWlmG9YxNfkE-5MS9mggw_sAy2ha8UBtpZadJCu1Kls6nSpQM8SQD0o85EpZmbqmrstveqSYg6tMmGlBTf5GuLy88dhOlchrvCnzU7ReTa2C_BqcN8EyU4/h120/IMG_2972.JPG" style="height: 120px; left: 0px; top: 0px; transform: rotate(0deg); width: 124px;" width="320" /></a>under steel-toed boots<br />
from The Company Store,<br />
when Earth weighed heavily<br />
on their chests, even before<br />
the carbon tunnel cave-in,<br />
its crushing vacuum compressing,<br />
strangling, abducting their lives<br />
breath by wheezing breath.<br />
<br />
Until that day in 1940<br />
when the whistle screamed,<br />
“Don’t take a chance,<br />
it may be your last.”<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">leh</span>leslie eugeniahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609946470898670250noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2917342957079290639.post-13838846342616098622014-05-01T15:10:00.001-07:002016-05-12T18:14:36.286-07:00Haiku XIIIGreat Blue stands at shore<br />
waiting for aquatic prey<br />
stoic persistence<br />
<br />
lehleslie eugeniahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609946470898670250noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2917342957079290639.post-79582795576577583962014-05-01T15:07:00.001-07:002016-05-10T12:42:51.007-07:00Haiku XIIspring forth golden fields<br />
California poppies bloom<br />
bees drink sweet nectar<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">leh</span>leslie eugeniahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609946470898670250noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2917342957079290639.post-47247047098293501582014-04-08T19:57:00.000-07:002016-05-10T12:44:27.771-07:00Haiku XI<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh65TC0CPzJlcP-lSHQxDk2NIyh4qmHM40q_OVJKpCxLtXYtrCd6DkKyZgcg7krqkcddbaq-YblJ62N8bEs0Ugt58d6dubv0j9CO2qIlMVcrtLpO1K43fWBjvAsMZmI6CRpNmC0vhztEPBW/s1600/589.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh65TC0CPzJlcP-lSHQxDk2NIyh4qmHM40q_OVJKpCxLtXYtrCd6DkKyZgcg7krqkcddbaq-YblJ62N8bEs0Ugt58d6dubv0j9CO2qIlMVcrtLpO1K43fWBjvAsMZmI6CRpNmC0vhztEPBW/s1600/589.JPG" width="240" /></a><br />
<br />
azure falls cascade<br />
over gilded crimson koi<br />
lilies reflected<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">text & photo by leh</span>leslie eugeniahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609946470898670250noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2917342957079290639.post-75385132491958424492014-04-05T10:17:00.003-07:002016-05-10T12:46:28.757-07:00Haiku X<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzo2AmsMCv_icCTVICbo1rGxwbqWfHkIO0evWi8JR6ZpWrDIydJ8T1qyeLKMbbE1v98D4Mekqdycn7z-tqpWQMB5lEDQ8HlYbbh1lpcgoQjnIo4YYTWFUgJkQa7lTvzkyJFBMFpnhHUHPH/s1600/Cliff_House_SF%5B1A%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzo2AmsMCv_icCTVICbo1rGxwbqWfHkIO0evWi8JR6ZpWrDIydJ8T1qyeLKMbbE1v98D4Mekqdycn7z-tqpWQMB5lEDQ8HlYbbh1lpcgoQjnIo4YYTWFUgJkQa7lTvzkyJFBMFpnhHUHPH/s1600/Cliff_House_SF%5B1A%5D.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
half moon aqua sea<br />
ice plant crawling over cliff<br />
coast range silhouette<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">text & photo by leh</span>leslie eugeniahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609946470898670250noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2917342957079290639.post-82367064366869315032014-02-11T16:09:00.001-08:002014-02-28T14:17:02.897-08:00Late Rain<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhpCovavS-kxTPkG5sUoZXY97MGbhL4GKd9q_do7eFsZ06hULCddU8_nZmRnqf55yJBHn3N5lg_2txhDWtWOcTSxssb9TBtk8V8rSCa51QgdSwWFdcS9BYykp-Djed3VM7U2Uo4XlLWYu2/s1600/EMS643%5B2%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhpCovavS-kxTPkG5sUoZXY97MGbhL4GKd9q_do7eFsZ06hULCddU8_nZmRnqf55yJBHn3N5lg_2txhDWtWOcTSxssb9TBtk8V8rSCa51QgdSwWFdcS9BYykp-Djed3VM7U2Uo4XlLWYu2/s1600/EMS643%5B2%5D.jpg" height="239" width="320" /></a></div>
Red and Yellow flash<br />
Swirl, blinds<o:p></o:p><br />
Bleeds into my senses.<o:p></o:p><br />
<o:p> </o:p><br />
A voice on the phone<o:p></o:p><br />
Said this is the spot<o:p></o:p><br />
Just past the bend<o:p></o:p><br />
In the road.<o:p></o:p><br />
The damp road.<o:p></o:p><br />
The slippery road.<o:p></o:p><br />
<o:p> </o:p><br />
Where’s my son?<o:p></o:p><br />
My baby boy…<o:p></o:p><br />
Two weeks from sixteen.<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 1.5in;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
Red, now, only Red<o:p></o:p><br />
(Swirls, blinds<o:p></o:p><br />
Bleeds into my memory)<o:p></o:p><br />
On the road.<o:p></o:p><br />
The damp road.<o:p></o:p><br />
The skid-marked road.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">text & photo by leh</span>leslie eugeniahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609946470898670250noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2917342957079290639.post-31163870676638210952014-02-05T16:02:00.001-08:002014-02-05T16:05:08.246-08:00Red Legs and Leather<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlgFy41PIR8DPjI3Vu4A2UoNA_3rzYmIw8TqQfK3Au2Xle48G4WIaqnUW8lLQ-7gC6QHD-sz4fV2xUU3XU6U6Czo-IM9l-JnzyG9R8F7ctML9KlKRhSDdsqXA35N-fSxerT7wW9lnC-sus/s1600/LosAltos%5B5%5Dx3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlgFy41PIR8DPjI3Vu4A2UoNA_3rzYmIw8TqQfK3Au2Xle48G4WIaqnUW8lLQ-7gC6QHD-sz4fV2xUU3XU6U6Czo-IM9l-JnzyG9R8F7ctML9KlKRhSDdsqXA35N-fSxerT7wW9lnC-sus/s1600/LosAltos%5B5%5Dx3.jpg" height="303" width="400" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Beautiful bad girl<br />
plugged-in<br />
to fringe<br />
<br />
fatal attraction<br />
amplified<br />
in the red zone<br />
<br />
carpé noctem<br />
cards dealt<br />
by a wicked messenger<br />
<br />
institutionalized<br />
inexcusably<br />
transformed</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 2in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span> </div>
<span style="font-size: x-small;">text & photo by leh</span>leslie eugeniahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609946470898670250noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2917342957079290639.post-51919553175408108122013-12-13T15:01:00.000-08:002014-12-28T09:10:27.785-08:00ReverieMy shadow points north<o:p></o:p><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjap9QgVwi77KgOEUtvG97ppROYyhp0HcGC-_c92P4diGH6QpTxj1aVEcoVyQV44sRdFBm_XBAkoQjcbN9fB5PREBTQIQfbrY7Toqgz1jkpM86y7NQr2iTXOd_DBvVFy4Wt5paBNBPRGvWM/s1600/LesterENail.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjap9QgVwi77KgOEUtvG97ppROYyhp0HcGC-_c92P4diGH6QpTxj1aVEcoVyQV44sRdFBm_XBAkoQjcbN9fB5PREBTQIQfbrY7Toqgz1jkpM86y7NQr2iTXOd_DBvVFy4Wt5paBNBPRGvWM/s1600/LesterENail.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a>where velveteen moss hangs<br />
from gnarled oak--longing<br />
for osage and dogwood<br />
my father beside me<br />
on a bale of hay, smoking<br />
in the cool barn, now<br />
where only swallows nest—<br />
the rails no longer humming<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">leh</span>leslie eugeniahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609946470898670250noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2917342957079290639.post-87893619972209800522013-08-05T15:17:00.003-07:002014-03-17T11:23:08.852-07:00high desert rushblood flows faster<o:p></o:p><br />
driving into Vegas<o:p></o:p><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2EgrcsaeJm_zGJN_GArE0Hy9uZSakejX4r1Esy654d8xy_QYzAJMBkx271UmsLJ0pWM-hhhFCTEz2TsPOzPzCBAGa5hh5gEEuBdrOhzACR3vPRftBWFgwI_7yMgGrekXxCtx42pFC8WY9/s1600/LasVegas%5B1A%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2EgrcsaeJm_zGJN_GArE0Hy9uZSakejX4r1Esy654d8xy_QYzAJMBkx271UmsLJ0pWM-hhhFCTEz2TsPOzPzCBAGa5hh5gEEuBdrOhzACR3vPRftBWFgwI_7yMgGrekXxCtx42pFC8WY9/s1600/LasVegas%5B1A%5D.jpg" height="165" width="320" /></a></div>
marquee buzz<o:p></o:p><br />
highway country<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
recognized an Angel<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
sitting on the curb<o:p></o:p><br />
displaced<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Chi</span><br />
soul<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>life force<o:p></o:p><br />
<o:p> </o:p><br />
alternate version<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>trapped<o:p></o:p><br />
in a parallel universe<o:p></o:p><br />
separated by a veil<o:p></o:p><br />
dividing<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>into infinite selves<o:p></o:p><br />
<o:p> </o:p><br />
high desert<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>gateway<o:p></o:p><br />
to the multiverse<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">text & photo by leh</span>leslie eugeniahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609946470898670250noreply@blogger.com