joanswhyididntwritepoems.blogspot.com

Why I didn't Write Poems

Why I didn't Write Poems. Sunday, November 26, 2006. Why I Didn't Write Poems. Of Andy started in May. Just never quit. That luscious,. Delicious, fat, golden sun. Never let go. All day. Day after day, I lay with my new. Baby son, my chubby, pink, naked. Beautiful peeper, under that sun. That I hadn't yet learned. Not to trust, while my just as. Naked, just as beautiful, impishly. Adorable daughter, my Dawn,. Played Barbie, or waded, or. Swung on the swings. And I. Was almost as naked as they. Poem, Driv...

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Why I didn't Write Poems | joanswhyididntwritepoems.blogspot.com Reviews

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Why I didn't Write Poems. Sunday, November 26, 2006. Why I Didn't Write Poems. Of Andy started in May. Just never quit. That luscious,. Delicious, fat, golden sun. Never let go. All day. Day after day, I lay with my new. Baby son, my chubby, pink, naked. Beautiful peeper, under that sun. That I hadn't yet learned. Not to trust, while my just as. Naked, just as beautiful, impishly. Adorable daughter, my Dawn,. Played Barbie, or waded, or. Swung on the swings. And I. Was almost as naked as they. Poem, Driv...

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Why I didn't Write Poems | joanswhyididntwritepoems.blogspot.com Reviews

https://joanswhyididntwritepoems.blogspot.com

Why I didn't Write Poems. Sunday, November 26, 2006. Why I Didn't Write Poems. Of Andy started in May. Just never quit. That luscious,. Delicious, fat, golden sun. Never let go. All day. Day after day, I lay with my new. Baby son, my chubby, pink, naked. Beautiful peeper, under that sun. That I hadn't yet learned. Not to trust, while my just as. Naked, just as beautiful, impishly. Adorable daughter, my Dawn,. Played Barbie, or waded, or. Swung on the swings. And I. Was almost as naked as they. Poem, Driv...

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joanswhyididntwritepoems.blogspot.com

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Why I didn't Write Poems: November 2006

http://www.joanswhyididntwritepoems.blogspot.com/2006_11_01_archive.html

Why I didn't Write Poems. Sunday, November 26, 2006. Why I Didn't Write Poems. Of Andy started in May. Just never quit. That luscious,. Delicious, fat, golden sun. Never let go. All day. Day after day, I lay with my new. Baby son, my chubby, pink, naked. Beautiful peeper, under that sun. That I hadn't yet learned. Not to trust, while my just as. Naked, just as beautiful, impishly. Adorable daughter, my Dawn,. Played Barbie, or waded, or. Swung on the swings. And I. Was almost as naked as they. Poem, Driv...

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Why I didn't Write Poems: Why I Didn't Write Poems

http://www.joanswhyididntwritepoems.blogspot.com/2006/11/by-joan-dobbie.html

Why I didn't Write Poems. Sunday, November 26, 2006. Why I Didn't Write Poems. Of Andy started in May. Just never quit. That luscious,. Delicious, fat, golden sun. Never let go. All day. Day after day, I lay with my new. Baby son, my chubby, pink, naked. Beautiful peeper, under that sun. That I hadn't yet learned. Not to trust, while my just as. Naked, just as beautiful, impishly. Adorable daughter, my Dawn,. Played Barbie, or waded, or. Swung on the swings. And I. Was almost as naked as they.

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joansscrabble.blogspot.com

Scrabble: November 2006

http://joansscrabble.blogspot.com/2006_11_01_archive.html

Sunday, November 05, 2006. I believe that my mother. Is up there in heaven. Playing scrabble with my life. I’m not joking. I really believe this. Let me try to explain. When she died on May 25, 2002. Irving, a man she’d adored. In the last four years. Before that, her best friend. Had been Claire, Irving’s wife. During Claire’s long, drawn out. Dying, they’d spent many. An afternoon playing scrabble together. In Irving and Claire’s sunny Boulder apartment. When I was around, I would join them. And as I w...

joansdrivingcrosscountry.blogspot.com

Driving Cross Country with Andy & Day: November 2006

http://joansdrivingcrosscountry.blogspot.com/2006_11_01_archive.html

Driving Cross Country with Andy and Day. Friday, November 24, 2006. In the Year of the Drought*. Even now after so many years and many such trips &. So much loss I need to expound about that one. Particular magnificent journey East. How I at age 42. Swam my way over the breadth of America. With two 13 year old boys. My parents were still. Both alive in those days and we were driving. To see them, but there was in those days. Drought or no drought. We swam in the Willamette before we left home. They'd inv...

mymotherisalive.blogspot.com

My Mother is Alive: September 2006

http://mymotherisalive.blogspot.com/2006_09_01_archive.html

My Mother is Alive. Thursday, September 21, 2006. Written For My Mother, Angela Thaler, 1984*. My Mother Is Alive. Written for my mother, Angela Brill Thaler, in 1984, soon after. A near fatal car crash). How their mothers are dead. Who never really lived. Except behind the ironing board. And in unfulfilled dreams -. My mother is alive. Floating on her back in blue water. She is monumental as mountains. Not mine. Mine is rock hard. Head on, two cars prove -. She is full of bones. And a good deal of brain.

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What I Learned One Day in Hell

What I Learned One Day in Hell. Sunday, May 6, 2007. I learned that hell is not just in the mind. But in the body, that suffering permeates. All life on earth and time itself is thin as air. And makes no promises, while death is everywhere. And easy. I saw myself a sagging empty bag. Unable to cry or write or speak, vomiting foul fluids,. Pissing my pants, writhing in nausea. Nor was I. Who I thought I was: mother, artist, jew, yogini. I was. None of these things, just that empty bag. I am a good person!

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What Is

Sunday, March 11, 2007. Is to be lost. What is not yet. I hope you'll wait for me. Jd Appx. 1995. Posted by Joan Dobbie @ 3:36 PM. View my complete profile. Poetry Immersion Classes with Joan Dobbie. Some Thoughts and How to on Poetry Writing. Live Each Day as If. Yoga Class, the Teacher Speaks. Love Song to a Dead Kitten. Your Eyes Blue As God's Heaven. I Am The Woman. Find my poems in: Looking For Home, Women Writing about Exile. Find my poem in: A Patchwork of Dreams.

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What Is Yoga?

Essay by Joan Dobbie. Essay by Joan Dobbie. BUT WHAT ABOUT SIVANANDA YOGA? ETC WHAT DO THOSE WORDS MEAN? Followers of the teacher, Iyengar, practice Iyengar yoga; followers of the teacher Desekachar, practice Desekachar yoga. And so forth. SO HOW CAN I CHOOSE? Posted by Joan Dobbie @ 10:17 PM. View my complete profile. Poem, Yoga Class the Teacher Speaks. University of Oregon Rate Your Professor. Essay, What is Yoga? Flier, Health Club Sun Salute. Article, How I Got My Mantra. River Road Parks and Rec.

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What I think

Tuesday, August 20, 2013. My brother in law Weldon has recently found out that he has cancer. This is a report from his wife Kay. Please read and by all means Please keep them in your prayers. Thanks all and as usually Willard and I wish you all health and happiness. May God bless and save. Monday, August 19, 2013. For Paula and all persons fighting cancer. And we know that for those who love God. All things work together for good, for those who are called according to his. Sunday, August 18, 2013. Until...

joanswhyididntwritepoems.blogspot.com

Why I didn't Write Poems

Why I didn't Write Poems. Sunday, November 26, 2006. Why I Didn't Write Poems. Of Andy started in May. Just never quit. That luscious,. Delicious, fat, golden sun. Never let go. All day. Day after day, I lay with my new. Baby son, my chubby, pink, naked. Beautiful peeper, under that sun. That I hadn't yet learned. Not to trust, while my just as. Naked, just as beautiful, impishly. Adorable daughter, my Dawn,. Played Barbie, or waded, or. Swung on the swings. And I. Was almost as naked as they. Poem, Driv...

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Saturday, December 30, 2006. A Cautionary Tale for Women. I saw a lean wolf at the edge of the forest and he saw me. He was hungry. I was hungry. And so our story began:. I had a pet rabbit, a sheep, some small cats. all of them trusted me with their lives. I didn't think twice. I slaughtered them all. I offered them up to my wolf. Because he was hungry, you see, and I was hungry. I left the carcasses, one by one,. At the edge of the forest. Slowly, carcass by carcass,. How the rich and living forest was...