Tag Archives: poetry

MONDAY AND IT’S COLD OUTSIDE

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Photo credit Linda Monteleone’

Good Monday Morning. I am freezing as I drink my coffee, and the heat is on. I am not letting this LA cold spell slow me down, I am out daily running and walking, but I have to admit it makes it harder to wake up so I am in a bit of a rush this morning.

I have changed my weigh in day to Friday, I like it so much better. It seems to make more sense to me. I am holding steady so far at twenty pounds. My announcement for my charity will be very soon.

Here is a poem I wrote on a frigid NYC morning, taking the train and dreaming with a cup of hot coffee warming my soul and body. Stay warm wherever you are…Love and light to all.

Namaste’
Rose

 

MONDAY

It’s another monotonous morning,

birds are chirping, but spring

has hardly paid a call or visit.

I drink my hot coffee, gripping

the cup like it holds liquid gold.

Fatigue sets in, mentally, physically;

a rat races inside my head.

I am emotionally, physically

drained from running mundane

marathons to empty destinations.

I imagine a kiss, a zealous kiss

that would bring summer

to my wintry body and soul.

Instead I sip, caffeinated tepid cafe;

and long for lips that scald,

daydreaming of a moment

that could warm all of my seasons.

 (c) Rose Bruno Bailey

AERIAL YOGA

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One of the things I really want to try is Aerial Yoga. One of my best friends teaches it in San Diego and I plan on trying it as soon as I progress in my practice.

This is how I imagine it to be.
Namaste’ and Goodnight
Rose

WINGED  GURU
My tortured soul surrenders 
My resistant body to a fated flight.
Melancholic melodies of my history,
Caught between memory and reality.
My fickle heartbeat dangles, 
Caught in tangled cobwebs
Of here, then and now;  and then.
Escape to the rhythm of lyrical suspense,
Suspended aimlessly without a whim;
Midair swan dive maneuvering
Into the embrace of silken arms;
Whirling together, abandoning myself.
Hanging in the imbalance between
Rhapsody and heartbreak.
(c) Rose Bruno Bailey

AUTUMN ON MY MIND

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Good Morning and Happy Friday. I am running late today, I woke up at 7 am instead of 6 am and it makes a bit of a difference in my timing. I am off to get ready for work and then Yoga tonight at Yogaworks for a Vinyasa class at 6 pm with Tom.

Last night I made a fabulous Lentil and Black Bean Chili with assorted veggies and sweet potatoes, and it was so amazing. I was not sure how the sweet potatoes would work in the bean chili and it was so good. James loves it when I make him soups and chili’s. Perfect for the Autumn.

Here is an old Autumn poem I wrote a few years ago, since it is soup season and a slight bit cooler here in Los Angeles. Happy Friday to all.
Namaste’
Rose

FALL FIREWORKS

Cascading leaves

Amongst the trees

Creates a scene

Serene.

Impressionist’s view,

Skies aqua blue;

Vibrant hues,

Xanadu.

Autumn’s delight,

Breathtaking sight;

Basking in amber light,

Foliage ignites.

Fall tree’s sway

Crimson bouquet;

October’s display,

Leads my soul astray.
(c) Rose Bruno Bailey

STAYING HUMBLED

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I feel very strongly that growing up somewhat underprivileged had its advantages. I never look back at the past with regret. I believe everyone holds their fate within the palm of their own hand, whether it is smooth or calloused. When  I look back on my childhood days, a hand me down sky blue dress for my eighth grade graduation was a gift and not an embarrassment; I had food, I had shelter, I had love. My Mother recently apologized for that moment, as if she did something wrong. I tried to thank her for not only being a wonderful Mother, but for raising me to be humble with compassion. Those gifts are worth more to me now than a sparking new dress for school would have been then.



I am a poet, and I started thinking I should delve into the past to write some new old poems. That made me think of Dolly Parton and her coat of many colors. The song brings tears to my eyes. First of all I can only imagine what it was like to live in that kind of poverty in those times. I read a quote recently by Dolly Parton which put a lot of things into perspective. They were so poor they did not always have toilet paper.

“My aunt in Knoxville would bring newspapers up, which we used for toilet paper. Before we used it, we’d look at the pictures.” Dolly Parton

 

Dolly Parton may have been lacking in material needs, but she was rich in love, spirit, talent, and humor. She has never forgotten where she came from; she learned from it, created from it, but has  never let it shape her identity.  I would love to meet her one day, she is such a positive inspiration. I had the same gifts, my Mother was a survivor and I am proud of my modest yet treasured upbringing. So if you find yourself wallowing the shallow waters of the past, remember sometimes blessings are found in down to earth disguises.
Always, love and light.
Rose

 Coat of Many Colors
Lyrics by Dolly Parton

Back through the years
I go wonderin once again
Back to the seasons of my youth
I recall a box of rags that someone gave us
And how my momma put the rags to use
There were rags of many colors
Every piece was small
And I didn’t have a coat
And it was way down in the fall
Momma sewed the rags together
Sewin every piece with love
She made my coat of many colors
That I was so proud of
As she sewed, she told a story
From the bible, she had read
About a coat of many colors
Joseph wore and then she said
Perhaps this coat will bring you
Good luck and happiness
And I just couldnt wait to wear it
And momma blessed it with a kiss
Chorus:

My coat of many colors
That my momma made for me
Made only from rags
But I wore it so proudly
Although we had no money
I was rich as I could be
In my coat of many colors
My momma made for me

So with patches on my britches
Holes in both my shoes
In my coat of many colors
I hurried off to school
Just to find the others laughing
And making fun of me
In my coat of many colors
My momma made for me

And oh I couldnt understand it
For I felt I was rich
And I told them of the love
My momma sewed in every stitch
And I told em all the story
Momma told me while she sewed
And how my coat of many colors
Was worth more than all their clothes

But they didn’t understand it
And I tried to make them see
That one is only poor
Only if they choose to be
Now I know we had no money
But I was rich as I could be
In my coat of many colors
My momma made for me
Made just for me
(c) Dolly Parton

BEACH DAY

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Today

I want to dive deep
Beneath salt waters,
Amongst sea creatures;
Wild waves enveloping rapid
Thoughts, cleansing my psyche
Awakened, renewed in blue
Coming up for air
Finding my calm self,
On the edge of a cliff
Lost in Mermaids Pose.
(C) Rose Bruno Bailey

Good morning and happy Saturday to all. I am up a little later than usual but early for a Saturday morning. We are headed to the beach today. We are packing a picnic and driving to one of Ventura’s lovely coast lines.

I am going to walk in the sand as my workout today, and do all the other exercises as well. I may even do some burpees. I have a wonderful book to take along as well. Nothing like spending a day at the beach. For now I am reveling in some silence as I drink my coffee. Sometimes you just have to tune out all of the outside noise.

My yoga class yesterday at Yogaworks with Tom was amazing, I wore the little brace I bought for my ankle and I felt great, and Tom said I looked great. My ankle did not give me too many issues, and I felt secure as I transitioned from pose to pose. I am loving practicing at Yogaworks, and I plan on it three to five days a week. The class was a yogablend class, very similar to what I have done before. It was set to music, and a bit challenging at times but I think I kept up quite well. The ladies at the front desk are so helpful, and I appreciate all of their advice and expertise. They said my practice will really deepen quickly if I come that often, and that motivated me even more. I am off for now, still a bit sleepy and incoherent. Here is a poem I wrote back in 2005 after a day of swimming. It is short and simple but I think it captures the essence of the power water has over me. 

Namaste’ 

LOVE OF WATER

I dive in a pool of crystal clear waters,

My worries float away.

I gaze at the sapphire sky, the sun

Blazes brightly aboveme.

Clouds drift aimlessly

Making a myriad of shapes and sizes.

My wistful spirit is baptized,

I am consumed by this show of

Sky high fireworks;

Warming my soul and body.

Trees pirouette in the wind, a minuet

For weary eyes, I am taken away.

(c) Rose Bruno Bailey

BRIE BEACH SANDWICH

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When we are born our first bout with individuality is when our parents bestow upon us the gift of a name. What is in a name? Does a name define who we are or how we are perceived by others?  What about those souls who are lost to their families, perhaps they ended up homeless and one day when their time was up they couldn’t be identified? They are just as much a human as anyone else but because their “name” was not known they were coldly stamped John or Jane Doe. 

This is a subject that is near and dear to my heart and one of the reasons I have chosen to assist The Monday Night Mission on my My Change For A Ten project when I lose my first ten pounds. I am so close, at nine pounds at the moment. I am hoping to make the ten pound loss Tuesday and then I will set the date when I will visit and assist The Monday Night Mission.

WALK IN EMPATHY
Step into my worn shoes,
How would you feel?
When People walk by,
Forgetting you are real.
Beyond your reach,
The hopes of a warm meal;
Or a place to lay your head,
To let your weary body heal.
Your spirit is broken,
Yet your head held high;
Only to be ignored,
By oblivious eyes.
A face with no name,
Is what they see;
Unloved, forgotten,
Throughout society.
Such lonely solitude,
Unanswered prayers;
Hopelessness and sorrow,
But no one cares.
Who will miss you
When it’s your time to go?
Will anyone remember,
Your name is not John Doe.
© Rose Bruno Bailey

The name Rose has caused many a remark from people when they first meet me. Usually it is the standard ” that is my great great grandmother’s name;” thanks a lot pal, for making me feel ancient. Or sometimes it is the cheesy “oh Rose, the name of beauty, the flower, by some guy dripping in too many chains and men’s cologne.” When the movie Titanic premiered I got lots of “never let go Rose.”  When I first met my husband he actually believed I gave him a fake name.


My husband and I bought a cooler, beach chairs and other things because we want to start having picnics at the beach. I know it is late in the season, but this is Southern California and we can picnic at the beach pretty much any time of the year. I was trying to figure out healthy sandwiches for me to take, that are not full of all the sodium that comes with cold cuts from a deli. This is what I thought would be the perfect beach sandwich for me and my healthy lifestyle.

That brings me to the origin of the Sandwich. It was named after John Montague, 4th Earl of Sandwich, he was  an 18th-century English aristocrat. Apparently he requested his valet bring him his meat inside two slices of bread. He was playing cards and wished not to get his hands greasy. Soon others followed suit requesting to have what Sandwich had.
Many sandwiches over the years have gained individual names of their own. The BLT, The French Dip, The Dagwood, The Club Sandwich to name a few.

This inspired me to make my favorite sandwich to take on my autumn picnics for my outings to the shore. Malibu breeze and a delicious light sandwich to feed my senses. I first had this unusual yet simple sandwich at my friend Marguerite’s house back in Cleveland, Ohio. Marguerite was French,world traveled, sophisticated, and whimsical. She sliced a french baguette, and spread some Dijon mustard on both sides. Then she topped it off with thinly sliced green apples and sharp cheddar cheese. My version is a bit more gourmet, but in honour of my long lost friend.  I have decided to name it THE MARGUERITE. A whimsical, sophisticated sandwich with a french origin just like it’s name sake.



You will need for one MARGUERITE

A  good french baguette or whole grain baguette

Extra virgin olive oil.

One green apple, sliced thin.

Brie cheese, enough to spread on both sides of the baguette. I use a small portion for mine.

Arugula, a generous handful

Toasted pecans( lightly spray cooking spray on a cookie sheet. Place pecans on sheet,and toast for five minutes in an oven set at 350 degrees for about five minutes). Just a few on mine, I have to watch portions.

Drizzle of balsamic vinegar, and extra virgin olive oil, and a teaspoon of a good Dijon mustard.

Drizzle olive oil on baguette and place on a cookie sheet in a pre-heated oven set at 400 degrees.Bake baguette for about ten minutes til crusty.

Spread Dijon on both sides of the baguette.

Spread a generous amount of brie on each side of the baguette.

Top brie with a handful of the toasted pecans, spread them in the brie so they are firm in the sandwich.

Place thin slices of apple on one side of the baguette in a uniform line.

Top it off with a generous handful of fresh arugula.

Drizzle balsamic vinegar on the arugula,and a bit of sea salt and ground pepper.You may wish to use a bit more olive oil, the choice is up to you. I think the olive oil on the baguette suffices but again individuality comes first. It is your Marguerite Sandwich.

Close tightly, slice in half, and enjoy this distinctive yet delish sandwich which is reminiscent of  walking barefoot in a field in Paris during springtime in a Monet painting.
Oh la la c’est marveilleux


HOMAGE TO THE WORKING MAN AND WOMAN

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Saturday has arrived, and it is the Labor day weekend. I have the whole weekend off not including Monday to do as I please. I love having weekends off and working the same hours Monday through Friday, it is this routine that makes it possible for me to continue on and be successful in my My Change For A Ten Quest, and I am very grateful for that and to the managers where I work that are kind enough to give me the schedule that works for my new fit lifestyle.

I am taking a rest day so it seems. I decide to take my rest days by judging how my body feels, if I feel like I have pushed it and I am overly tired that is when I take my rest day. Hard work does need a rest, after all it is Labor Day this weekend and since I work Monday I will rest today. I wish everyone a beautiful Labor Day weekend, and I hope you take sometime to relax and revel in the intoxication of  just being alive. 


I wrote this poem a few years ago and I do not remember who or what I was musing off. It is about the working man/woman, an homage so you will to all those who toil to make a better life for themselves and their loved ones, sometimes sacrificing their own freedom. This is a poem I once almost scrapped when I lived in NYC but after my close friend read it and cried because it reminded her of her father I decided to keep it. Happy Labor Day Weekend to all. Get some rest and relaxation and get out there and bask in the sweet summer sun as a reward to all of the hard hours you put in for a better life. Autumn is sneaking up on us, so make these last summer moments count. Love and light to all.
Namaste’
Rose

BREADWINNER

Lament of a man of labor,

Pride in his starched blue collar;

Valor in the stains of sweat,

From toiling in the sweltering heat.

Sacrificing time for his devotion,

To family, keeping poverty at bay;

At the price of exhaustion of self.

Fatigue plagues him day after day,

No escape is in sight, no freedom;

Enslaved, trapped within his quagmire.

Nothing ever changes, even with time,

There is no relief in sight.

It seems he sold his soul,

Owned by a pea colored key.

Still he endeavors on

With his daily drudgery,

Realizing with great esteem;

Truest nobility

To raising a family,

And profound dignity

In any honest occupation.

(c) Rose Bruno Bailey




YOGA PRACTICE

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There is nothing like Yoga practice to give you that mind body connection. I feel so zen today after my class with Nicole Sherman at Pink Iron. I am trying to do as much yoga as possible, and I can see my practice is opening up with each class. Today we did a lot of hip openers, which feels completely marvelous, especially afterwards. I am really getting more flexible by the day and that makes me completely happy. Afterwards I awarded myself with a fresh squeezed carrot/cucumber juice from my friends at WeHo Bistro. Now it is time to eat a healthy lunch and workout soon. I love being so active, I feel like I am floating on a cloud.

Yoga fuels my muse, here is a poem I wrote that was featured in Lightworkers World. It is how I view my yoga practice. 
Namaste’ 
Love and Light to all
Rose



NAMASTE’

Coming from me, a poet and former ballet dancer,
yoga combines the cerebral aspects of my brain with the physical reality of my body;
stanzas gesturing in motion.
As I transition from asana to asana, my mind poses that
age old question; am I one with the universe?
The answer is always a definite yes.
I feel as if I am the salt of the earth below my toes, the clouds hovering above my head.
I realize not only am I one with the earth and the universe, I am so with all creatures;
and one with my sometimes puzzling psyche.
By the time I reach the elusive state of savasana I feel as if I am floating above my body.
I finally return back to earth in prayer pose to recite that final namaste,
in that belated moment of clarity I am reminded of the gratitude I have for being heaven sent yet earth bound.
(c) Rose Bruno Bailey

SERENITY OF YOGA AND WATER

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Good Morning Thursday, I wish everyone a beautiful day today. I am drinking extra strong coffee this morning, the Siamese nightly wake ups were much more frequent last night. I am about to call Jackson Galaxy from My Cat From Hell, he would be able to fix my issue. Funny, all night long in between the cats being rowdy I dreamed about Stormy, our beloved Tabby who we lost to renal failure last January. We will always miss her, so naturally I feel a bit melancholic this morning. Here she is doing her best downward dog, she was the mascot for the yoga event I planned in Griffith Park for Kitt Crusaders, it was called Downward Dog For Cats.


Yoga was fantastic, as is Nicole my teacher. We did a lot of emphasis on hips and quad stretches. We were working on pigeon pose, and she taught us how to take our mat to the wall and do the pose up against the wall. It is a fabulous albeit hard stretch to do, but I can see how this is going to improve pigeon pose and our quad flexibility. I am so happy that my old flexibility is returning. I guess it is true that you have muscle memory. My Change For A Ten is working for me because of all the time I am putting in working out and doing yoga etc. I believe I would not feel this fabulous if I did not work out.  It takes the balance of diet and exercise to really see a difference in my body. I am so motivated to go forward and I really am enjoying the process as well as the results.

Richard Simmons will be traveling for the next few weeks so I will miss his high energy inspiration. I can still go to Slimmons for the class, but I think tonight I am going to go to the gym or take a class, or something to do with water. I love being in water, always have. It makes me feel completely alive and serene at the same time. I was a lifeguard in my twenties, I felt compelled to learn how to save a person from drowning. 

Here is a poem I wrote years ago about my love of being in the water and swimming, written in 2005.  I actually spent the afternoon swimming, then I took a shower and glanced out the window at the pool with the sun shining through the trees and the poem came to me right then and there. I had to have my husband write it down for me since I was in the shower, lol. Sometimes inspiration hits at the least convenient time, but I am always happy when it does.
Wishing you sunshine and serenity.
Namaste’
Rose

LOVE OF WATER 

I dive in a pool of crystal clear waters,

My worries float away.

I gaze at the sapphire sky, the sun

Blazes brightly above me.

Clouds drift aimlessly

Making a myriad of shapes and sizes.

My wistful spirit is baptized,

I am consumed by this show of

Sky high fireworks;

Warming my soul and body.

Trees pirouette in the wind, a minuet


For weary eyes; I am taken away.

(c) Rose Bruno Bailey

DESTINATION MONDAY

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Happy Monday to all.  Sometimes I feel like life moves on the fast track and again like clockwork comes Monday morning. Where did the weekend go?  On Mondays I begin my week of workouts and make my plans for My Change For A Ten.  I am a little sleepy this week thanks to my Siamese cat Rascal and his fascination with the air conditioner cord. I have to get at the bottom of this mystery, I think he does it for attention because I wake up and feed him then he comes back and does it again. Thank goodness I hear him and I am able to stop him, this is a dangerous habit he has started and a great way to make me a little groggy Monday morning.

I have decided that I do not need to physically take the time to go into Weight Watchers to weigh in, when I can be using that time to do some sort of other workout activity. I can do Weight Watchers online and weigh in on Tuesday mornings first thing, and I believe that is the way to get the most accurate read on my weight. Plus my trainer Mike has asked to see my food diary on Tuesday, and that helps too. I really think I am doing well, and I have already started to get comments about my weight loss and I have only lost a few. I know I am losing inches too and I feel awesome albeit sleepy.

I wish everyone a beautiful and bright day. I am off to drink some needed coffee on this Monday Morning and eat a protein bar. I am way too sleepy for more. 

Here is a Monday poem, written in NYC waiting for the train in the midst of winter. It may make you appreciate that it is summer now. I remember how hard it was to be sleepy and go out into the bitter cold. California thank goodness saves me from that experience.
Namaste’
Rose

MONDAY

It’s another monotonous morning,
birds are chirping, but spring
has hardly paid a call or visit.
I drink my hot coffee, gripping
the cup like it holds liquid gold.
Fatigue sets in, mentally, physically;
a rat races inside my head.
I am emotionally, physically
drained from running mundane
marathons to empty destinations.
I imagine a kiss, a zealous kiss
that would bring summer
to my wintry body and soul.
Instead I sip, caffeinated tepid cafe;
and long for lips that scald,
daydreaming of a moment
that could warm all of my seasons.

(c) Rose Bruno Bailey