Art, Poetry, books, novels

Monday, July 28, 2014

Abandoned House


Abandoned house

We were superb.
Memory makes things grand.
Pain of stiches after croquet mallet to the head.
Tulle scratches under a First Communion dress.
Under the fruit trees sisters gorged on peaches.



We were together.
Recollect bits of time, if you can.
Children played outside when Dad was manic, waiting.
Ride a bike to work, deposit the cash before you return.
How many stray dogs did we have? four five or six?


We had joy.
Go back with yellow tinted lenses.
Put iodine in the baby oil, spit at the sun.
Catch fireflies in Kerr jars, to light the graveyard.
Pray my children adventure to remember childhood.

Caroline Gerardo
copyright  ©  2014

Abandoned house

Sunday, July 20, 2014

This morning


hiking trail to beach
I wake early.
A walk in the house in the dark:
the floors creek, the smell of coffee
steams the air, and I'm alive to face
a new day with joy.

May you jump up and yell,
"Yeah."


trellis arch over stone path

garden seating area in shade

Thursday, July 10, 2014

Book Covers

My recent favorite book cover art.
The first few are in blues.
I would love to paint an image that
works in blue tones for my next cover.
Intuitively I feel it is going to be sepia or black.
The landscape is black dust storms. I have numerous photographs I took
of tornadoes, dust devils, abandoned barns on my last trip to Wyoming
but I can't settle my heart on the right one.
Perhaps you will give me some input?

Rare you see the full face of a woman as a cover. Usually it is a shot from behind. Or the face disguised. I love this image in sepia.
I amwriting

http://www.amazon.com/Toxic-Assets-Bank-Caroline-Gerardo-ebook/dp/B004RCLZXI/ref=tmm_kin_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&sr=1-1&qid=1405021460




Chores On The List


Life is busy.
My daughter is away. She can be a
cyclone with her ADHD. 
Dust keeps piling. 
Chores remain. 
I was up this morning at five. 
Early summer fog disappeared. 
Sunlight starts around 5:47 AM.


"Stick to the list." I tell myself.
Time robs in bits and pieces.

I'm halfway through the revision on paper.
I read aloud at the kitchen table in the early hours,
and again at night after my work.
Doubting every adjective...

A break in the garden to water steals
an hour, just a second to pull some weeds.
The washing machine waits for me to figure out
how to repair the dogs (the little clips that spin the
big drum). Intuitively I know how to fix it. The center
agitator is pulled off. It waits for me to allocate a couple
hours to the fix. Perhaps hand washing and visits to
a Laundromat are more foolish than penning it into a schedule.
Wish I had the excess cash I once had to hire a guy.
On the weekend I rented the commercial carpet steaming machine.
"You have four hours to return it perfectly clean." The kid said.
"No problem I have only three hours to get 3400 feet of white
carpet sanitized."
He looked at me funny. A teenager at Home Depot . Probably
never lugged a fifty pound machine upstairs, certainly never
worried about getting things done efficiently, maybe never
fussed over word choice and never thought about a sentence
while the smell of bleach and carpet shampoo wafts about.

The dogs are going to stay outside more this summer. 
"You can be so happy napping in the gazebo." I told our Golden
Retriever. Her eyes understood. Her feelings bruised.
"I'm one of the children. You can keep the other dog terror in
the gazebo." I swear she was speaking in my dream last night.

This morning my son said, "Leave a list for me Mom."
I nearly cried.
I am so blessed.
  


Porthole in the Lighthouse


Saint Nicholas patron saint of Sailors. His head fell off.
Notice the wire structure...