Caroline Gerardo's Blog, page 20

Hike Uphill

Hike
up hillhand makes
easy sing as we
climb my son soar likea golden eagle with the lyrics life's steps makes legs strongsoon you'll carry me


Poem and image copyright Caroline Gerardo 3/22/2017I hope all UC college students success in their finals!

Stolen Sonnet

Stolen 

Chicken wires cannot stop Coyote pays gold unknown Ship daughter from hilltop Cash me outside not grown 

Gangs pull pony tail braid Girl taste passion fruit pink Cut open inside cactus jade Glue neon head lamp blink   Women huddle in cubicles Winter hearts rub crackle Lips swell, share the fables Wet earthquake tabernacle
Mission bells bleed dread
Maybe white lady spooksSay you tremble to read Stolen Art History books

 Care for Etruscan fresco Curse a Japanese Shinto Gago never paid Jeanbeau Catalog the melts in snow  Spies get off with graceStill hands off grid laceHa originals wait in place Scoundrel pinot noir face

Deportation of Dad Black talent canvad Dumb ones to be had Drag eyes to road bad

Copyright Caroline Gerardo 3/9/2017images and poem

Lost Walt Whitman Novella

Want to share link with you to read the found (after 165 years)
Novella by Walt Whitman

total content here:
http://ir.uiowa.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=2251&context=wwqr/ 

You can order print version from the University of Iowa Press
Thank you Zachary Turpin

Excerpt:
"I know few more melancholy sights than these old men present, whom you see here and there about New York; apparently without chick or child, very poor, their lips caved in upon toothless gums, dressed in seedy and greasy clothes, and ending their lives on that just debatable ground between honorable starvation and the poor house. Old Wigglesworth had been well off once. The key to his losses, and his old age of penury, was nothing more nor less than intemperance. He did not get drunk, out and out, but he was never perfectly sober. Covert now employed him at a salary of four dollars a week. Nathaniel, before-mentioned, was a small boy with a boundless ambition; the uttermost end and aim of which was that he might one day drive a fast horse of his own on Third avenue. In the mean time [sic], he smoked cheap cigars, cultivated with tenderness upon his temples, his bright brown hair, in that form denominated “soap-lock,” and swept out the office and ran the errands; occasionally stopping to settle a dispute by tongue or fist. For Nathanie l [sic] was brave, and had a constitutional tendency to thrust his own opinions upon other people by force if necessary. Freed from the presence of the two, Mr. Covert sat meditating and writing alternately; until he had finished a letter, on which he evidently bestowed considerable pains.—He then folded, enveloped, sealed it, and locked it his desk. A tap at the door. “Come in.” Two persons enter. One is a hearty middle-aged man,
"I know few more melancholy sights than these old men present, whom you see here and there about New York; apparently without chick or child, very poor, their lips caved in upon toothless gums, dressed in seedy and greasy clothes, and ending their lives on that just debatable ground between honorable starvation and the poor house. Old Wigglesworth had been well off once. The key to his losses, and his old age of penury, was nothing more nor less than intemperance. He did not get drunk, out and out, but he was never perfectly sober. Covert now employed him at a salary of four dollars a week. Nathaniel, before-mentioned, was a small boy with a boundless ambition; the uttermost end and aim of which was that he might one day drive a fast horse of his own on Third avenue. In the mean time [sic], he smoked cheap cigars, cultivated with tenderness upon his temples, his bright brown hair, in that form denominated “soap-lock,” and swept out the office and ran the errands; occasionally stopping to settle a dispute by tongue or fist. For Nathanie l [sic] was brave, and had a constitutional tendency to thrust his own opinions upon other people by force if necessary. Freed from the presence of the two, Mr. Covert sat meditating and writing alternately; until he had finished a letter, on which he evidently bestowed considerable pains.—He then folded, enveloped, sealed it, and locked it his desk. A tap at the door. “Come in.”

California National

[image error] National Park
Weather breathesNature deliverswhat she feelsStorm rivers
California whimState of change. Drought to brim I'm free range.
Shooting starsseen in springsecond memoirssing on wing shooting stars dodecatheon clevelandi

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Caroline Gerardo Copyrights reserved for poetry, photographs and video 2/20/2017 

Overcome

Burned Pine by Caroline Gerardo

Use the ability to get up tomorrow and stand against the wind. Though the veins in yourarms throb from holding on, pick up someone else along the way. In your roots find nutrients needed to overcome. On weary days, I have your back my friends.
Regroup and Overcome.
Love,

C G
2/15/2017 copyright

Grow

Grow My SonBuilt strong houseBuilt raised bedsBuilt joyful lifeBut babies growgo
Name Steve crowsat five months a teenagerRunty and persecutedchick became a house pet.Gradually re-introducedto the flock, by nightblack hoody ski mask
no children? lost dog or a cat?heart like that?
 Husband barred mefrom the door while baby cried read psyho babbletough love book of bubbling spring sleep,but pain's a watershed
Dialed 911 in days when people had homephones, husband rippedthe cord from the wall
Stinking cry babyescaped that manDivorce doesn't end.
Name Steve is number 901of miscarriages, children,and adopted pets.
Morning freerange time and coffee. Call Name Steve to snuggle. He ignores.Turns his back."Act like you don't know me lady, I'm deep under cover."
Yes, I recall, Pick me up fromschool Mom, down the street
Pussy willows for saleGoat sallow in springPlant echinacea under forsythiagolden healthBloom my son find your joyMiss youLove Mom
Copyright Caroline Gerardo 2/5/2016 all photographs and poetry rights reserved

Porthole

Porthole Scream silk burlap pee smokey smelljump another log bull horn over swell.
Drug rave monsterswithout pure marroware cauldron condorswho darken the sky.
Wings block lightthunder earthquakesshock therapy blight, propaganda news fakes.
Touch electric wirescharges connectkilling the lastfew that are left.
Build a fire  jewel hope heat  frost from pyre,hold friends close.
Under down comforterwe are immigrants.raven sound trumpeterMuslim, Jew, Protestants.
Sulfur pots of ruststolen geyser promisesspeak out you mustalgae grows in silence. 


Porthole window open for firing cannons, to admit light, and air.
Copyright 1/29/2017 Caroline Gerardo

What is Citizenship?

[image error] On Inauguration DayWhat Is Citizenship?
Right to voteResponsible to careRisk to wroteReact to beware
Ready to giveRaise to defendRace to liveRealize to end
Read to childrenReach to mentorRecommend to amendResist to anger

This Inauguration Day I'm hopeful, ready and here.
Tonight from Intercontinental Hotel I asked about public transportation to 3rd Street. Directed toanother guest with a suite - full on party ofsign painting and views!I'm a girl who transferred from Ivy Leagueto a women's college because I longed forcommunity. Scripps College was a great start.I worked a job where there were zero, none, 0women before me or beside me for the first yearsuntil I pulled them up, mentored and encouraged.I raised children, sent them to college on my own.I believe women can do the same job as a man.I've operated a crane, lived in a loft, built low income housing, wrote novels,survived health issues, tended a ranch... I treat all with respect, kindness and sharing.I'm marching for the women in my life.May you have opportunity, health care, and optionsto grow in this great country The United States of America.


Rain at home
Oak tree at home

Black and White Lining Up

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Black and white and lining up. Three day weekend for projects.
Cross off the accomplishments on your list.

Weeded the hillside and planted five pounds of sunflowers.
Italian White, Lemon Queen and Red Sun reach up to
touch the Wolf Moon the other night.
Rain helped in the work, making the soil let go tap root filagree,
bristly mallow and bermuda buttercups. My hands ache. I like the
cheerful yellow buttercups but they are toxic to livestock. This
reminds me of outlet covers, baby proof dishwasher and cutting grapes
in halves. Caring is habit, makes me happy.

One of the Sultan chickens, Big Red recovered from "self poisoning."
He persists in eating succulents until drunk. I removed the plants; but,
he obsess on some other danger. Naughty teenager.
Last weekend his party endeavors left him shaking and blurred vision.
He spent the week in the screened porch. Isolation is hard on chickens.
I set up a soft box inside a huge plastic bin, and forced him to drink water and
eat every two hours. He's back with the crew, but not back to normal. More
skiddish and crazy yelling than before.

Below is a Kiger Mustang stallion. He visited a neighbor and is on his way
to Utah. These majestic horses are amazing.  He nods his head, yes.

I asked Dave Malone to edit the Climate Change novel, I'm still playing
with titles. Okay leave me a comment: Vote - 1. Climate Change
2. The Great Drought 3. you make it up the story is about a woman
prepper in the future when water is drastically scarce.

Began the next long form novel, and booked a studio for
the Audio book. The year ahead I have my plans written down. News
media has distracted us all. I'm reading everything, mistrusting main
stream media- frankly all print propaganda. Stay positive. Keep your
eyes open. Be extra kind to others. Big hugs to you all.

Copyright 1/15/2017 Caroline Gerardo
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Love Past

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Photo of You Looking Frail
Days blursaw a photo peekingframe frail skin dull samesaw  hunch walkinggame google search namesaw posture fleeting
Memory furpick fuzz ballsman once now sandpick bird callsband lines the landpick your falls
Past stirheal all painshove aside loveheal us sanedove cares aboveheal core obtain
Copyright 1/14/17 Caroline Gerardo poem and photographs [image error]