Gogyohka-Thursday [92]

So. I didn't forget. I had this written (inspired by Knutes at Camp Spofford) well before Thursday, but lightening took out our internet. It's still out. The iPad app is rather maddeningly inferior, hence the post format. I'll fix it when the interwebs come back. Till then, over and out.

The darkened cafe

Its floor strewn 

With popcorn kernels

Is nightly visited

By galavanting mice

Gogyohka-Thursday [91]

watching my sister

sweet bride to be

showered with gifts

for their home-making

so tangibly happy, my heart's aching

Gogyohka-Thursday [90]

I find

I am lost for words

when I hear such significance

in the silent

spaces

I find this poem took on different meanings depending on the photo I coupled with it- choosing any one seems limiting.. Silences in music, in space, in time... between two people... beauty in the unstated.

Gogyohka-Thursday [89]

Shriek! Hide! Freeze!


A spider I see.


It's sizing me up, waiting to strike-


It likes to attack


things 1000 times its size!

Gogyohka-Thursday [88]

Ricotta, mozzarella

 melting in our mouths.

"How much money?" we ask.

"No money," the man smiles,

"You woman eat for free." 

This poem was inspired by yesterday's outing to Arthur Avenue. We ladies were picking up several pounds of ricotta and mozzarella from the cheese shop my great-grandmother shopped at for year after year. She always picked up her ricotta for special occasions there because cheese anywhere else "just wasn't the same." I think our delight over cheese (along with questions and anecdotes) must have delighted the cheese-man, because he gave us a huge slab of ricotta to eat on the way and a mozzarella in the shape of a pig for my little sister. When we asked how much we owed him for our 3-4 pounds of cheese, he told us he'd "called his manager" and there was no charge for us. We almost cried, we were so touched by his sweetness.

Gogyohka-Thursday [87]

For nearly two years, I've had a faithful Gogyohka-reader from Paris. You've never commented; I don't know who you are. But I've always wanted to say thank you.

Si j'avais les mots

les mots justes

je voudrais vous dire

merci, je vous remercie

pour lisant

if I had words

just the right words

I would say to you

thank you, thank you

for reading

Gogyohka-Thursday [86]

Packing

Too many things

My life

And memories

Into boxes

Gogyohka-Thursday [85]

still at last

just the God, the grass, and me

sleeping in the sun

reading in the breeze

sweet pondering, just being

Gogyohka-Thursday [84]

In honor of finals week- here's a poem I wrote April 27th, 2009.

staring

at my test

as if just enough time

would fill in

all the blanks

Gogyohka-Thursday [83]

weary of holding

my own chin up...
 

arms strangely aching...

 

realizing I haven't been held

 

 in a very, very long time...

Poem for my mother.  

Gogyohka-Thursday [82]

My brother Peter Fiore wrote this Guest Gogyohka for me. It is hard to be so far away- but sometimes we meet in cyberspace and have great conversations- gchat bridging the gap of several states till we see eachother again.

Your words

On my screen

Like joyful tears

Makes me smile

And wish for more



Gogyohka-Thursday [81]

There is a peculiar beauty that graces those in love. 'Old couples, engaged couples- I love to watch them... this one's for my sister and her fiance particularly. 

 

they walked

like they'd walked

together for a long time

pausing- turning- loving mimes

speaking with their eyes

Gogyohka-Friday [80]

So. Basically I forgot yesterday that Thursdays existed. And that's my only excuse.

 
 why do we grow content

living life from inside?

feeling alive through

fragmented light?

like vicariously eating pie?

Gogyohka-Thursday [79]

We war, my food and I.

It stares me down-

I push it around-

I skewer it through-

and then, I EAT IT!

Waiting for Pain

I realized the other day that I've been living life as if waiting for pain.

Many know that this past year was an incredibly painful one for me... as I watched good things, things I had prayed for- or unexpected goods that seemed given by God, shatter like crystal palaces into thousand of pieces- impossible to regather...

... laughter into mourning... laughter into mourning...

How can such good things result in such pain, such regret?

...walking in ruins...

And just when I think it's over... it starts again... like splinters of glass one's feet finds in the floor cracks long after the glass was shattered...

And so I've felt that somehow - in some way - God was punishing me... for something. Who knows what. And whatever it was- I must be still doing it, cause the pain goes on.

Waiting for the other shoe to drop... the next beautiful thing to fall to pieces...
 

I've been living as if God were angry with me. I've been afraid to invest- afraid to love. 

How can one build castles while waiting for bombs?

I've been living as if God were my judge (instead of my father), someone indifferent to my pain (instead of infinitely invested in my well-being), as though He were standing over me- disapproving, (instead of weeping over me).

The greatest sorrow and burden you can lay on the Father, the greatest unkindness you can do to him is not to believe that he loves you. -John Owen

I was reading a blog-post when I came across that quote and fell to thinking on it... to remembering the love of God... to remembering what lengths He went to to get me. ... that Jesus spared no cost to make me His...  that He endured silence- separation- the broken relationship with His Father- so that our  relationship might be whole... that He knows and He cares more deeply and infinitely and truly than I can conceive... that He sees me through Christ, I am clothed in crystal-white righteousness... that what pain He brings my way He sends to bring me to closer to Himself... that He, more than anyone, is for me. (Of whom shall I be afraid?) 

He has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and love and sound mind. (2 Timothy 1:7)

So. I've been learning, yet again, to remember. To remember who I am as a child of God...

... cast all your cares upon him... because He cares for you... (1 Peter 5:7)

I'm particularly fond of Psalm 131.

O LORD, my heart is not proud, nor my eyes haughty;
Nor do I involve myself in great matters,
Or in things too difficult for me.
 Surely I have composed and quieted my soul;
Like a weaned child rests against his mother,
My soul is like a weaned child within me.
 O Israel, hope in the LORD
From this time forth and forever.

I am running with my cares into the arms of God... and in their love finding rest.

So friends- brothers, sisters- please, whenever you can, remind me of God's love.

Because I forget.