Browns and Reds: 1983+_ColorPencil_Drawing3 by Carol Hershey

10/28/08_Poem by Betina Hershey Russo

I am moving
My stacks of resolutions
All in crisp binders,
My old dreams wrapped in crinkly tissue-paper,
My tomorrow plans scrawled
Over tiny post-its and huge poster paper,
And you,
Wrapped in the weary glow
Of "this will be glorious."

Where we're going,
All of these boxed up items
Will become soft, round, amazingly balanced
In a haze of browns and reds
And teardrop shaped rooms.

Where we're going is more than just
A house. It's a new way
Of saying "future". It's
My own mailbox, a porch, two trees,
A back yard, crickets, a leak,
And your kisses in my kitchen in between gigs.

Crazed Clown: 1991_ColorPencil1 by Carol Hershey

10/27/09_Poem by Betina Hershey Russo

I feel like
a crazed clown:
bloodshot eyes,
brain waves screaming
AIIIIEEEEE!

I feel like
a ferris wheel
out of control
in a misty grey
sky while children
scream
MOOMMMYYYY!

I feel like
a red pen scraping
across a page
marking out a mouth
for such a frazzled
face. om.

Rocking Chair: 2002_Ink&ColorPencil_Drawing1 by Carol Hershey

10/27/08_Poem by Betina Hershey Russo

Moving
All of these boxes filled with poetry books,
Journals, college text books, music binders,
Dishes, towels, sheets, dresses smushed in,
And all of your old tapes,
I long to pare down to the elemental:
One painted rocking chair.
Imagine a house.
Shiny wooden floors.
Creamy white walls.
Sunlight.
And a rocking chair.
How lovely.
Instead, we will have boxes.
So many boxes to unpack
And fill those walls with our old
Clutter.

Bursting: 1995+_Pencil_Drawing2 by Carol Hershey

10/25/08_Poem by Betina Hershey Russo

Oh, I'm gonna burst
Up and out and all over the place
With journal pages falling
Like rose petals and dandelion seeds
Softly through the air
And with legs like jack-in-the-box springs
And arms like tornadoes
Lifting everyone in my path
Up and away into my love!

Oh yeah, I'm gonna bounce
Ideas off of mountains and moons,
And Shakespeare verses off of giants
With rascally beards.

Big saggy blue chair.
Wind chimes in the distance.
Traffic street hum.
A light breeze.

Everywhere around me - boxes.
Boxes of clothes, boxes of books
Boxes waiting to be filled
With the items of my life's collection.

Me? I am not boxed in,
Shut down, covered up!
I am silently, motionlessly
Bursting.

Moose: 1987&91+_ColorPencil_Drawing1 by Carol Hershey

10/24/08_Poem by Betina Hershey Russo

Hills
Vales
Moose with googly blue eyes
Flowers
Caves
Blue grass, blue sky, blue rivers

The post office is made of clay
and begonias
The jail
is full of cushions and veils

Touch my sleeve
But don't wake me

Elephant Eye: 1986_WaterColor4 by Carol Hershey

10/23/08_Poem by Betina Hershey Russo

The elephant eye
Never blinks.
I am calmed
By its steadfast gaze,
It's multifaceted blue
And velvety brown skin,
So thick and so
Vulnerable.

Robot: 1984+_ColorPencil_Drawing by Carol Hershey

10/22/08_Poem by Betina Hershey Russo

"Bleep blip rasmatazle"
Says the messy bloink ickle robot.
"Eeeee oiiii urkle bleep blip!"
Translation:
"So much treasure!"
Says Ernie.
"Love this sippycup so much!"
"Brungle ricky rack proog?"
Asks the teeny tiny ant-rifkin.
"Shmooooogieferous!"

Wizard: 1980_Pencil_Drawing7 by Carol Hershey

10/21/08_Poem by Betina Hershey Russo

Inside of this cloaked wizard, this marriage
There are so many journeys to make
To find and protect that magic token
And save the whole body.
Luckily there are gnomes, fairies,
And all kinds of do-gooders
Willing and able to leave their jobs
And wander down endless roads,
Up jagged peeks, through torrential rivers,
Sacrificing for the good of the whole.
Oh, yes, the wizard-cloak-marriage
Has his hand on the glass ball
And he's cackling over the misfortunes
Of such tiny players. But
Little does he know
How strong they are, and how many
Will rise up in the name of love.

Fall: 1989_Ink_Drawing1 by Carol Hershey

10/19/08_Poem by Betina Hershey Russo

Fall is tickling the air
And the four suns.
She laughs and laughs
At winter hearts.
Ha! Didn't you know?
Winter is on sabbatical.
The soil is eager for seed,
The grasses lift up their arms to dance
And the tear drops have soaked the earth.
Warm and wet, full of compost,
Fall is really pushing for a full-time job.
The boss comes in, wags a finger.
You won't be paid for these hours!
Fall shrugs and slooches off.
Ah well. Maybe next year.

Surrender: 1979_WaterColor1 by Carol Hershey

10/18/08_Poem by Betina Hershey Russo

Surrendering
To the flow of crimson
To the life ebbing and sweeping
Out of my body to join
The oceanic world;
Yes, surrendering
To the heaviness of my limbs
And the invisible hand reaching
Into my center to give it a twirl
Like a lettuce spin-dryer;
Surrendering to the waters,
To the waves and surges and soft ebbing
Of such a magnificent flow,
I am a woman alive in the world
Bleeding to death again.

Wind Storm: 1997_B&W_Ink_Drawing by Carol Hershey

10/17/08_Poem by Betina Hershey Russo

Up, up and away, the ideas of change
Storm the sky with hugs and kisses
And swooping bouquets of ballooning love.
May these winds continue to billow
And these ideas never lose their x's and o's.
May change be something we see
And feel upon our summertime skin,
Even in the winter.
Yes, up, up, and there it is
So proud to declare:
There's a new way!

A what way?

A flower way! A shower way!
A motherly way! A fatherly way!
A helpful, natural, considerate way!
A gorgeously sparkling way!

What? Are we, like, um,
Trying to be the 60's all over again?

No. But it's a greener, organic,
Touch-your-neighbor-without-taking-off-
your-clothes-or-your-nose way,
A mature, kind of slow and sure way,
Well, an any-way-but-this-way kind of way.

Teardrops: 1989+ColorPencil_Drawing by Carol Hershey

10/16/08_Poem by Betina Hershey Russo

After almost a year
I have no visible tears
But my arms ache
Like teardrops falling towards your body
Which isn't there to catch them...
Falling through an interminable absence
Of hand on cheek.
This phone in my hand?
I was about to call you...
After all this time, I still almost believe
You will answer.

Night City: 2005_ColorPen_Drawing by Carol Hershey

10/15/08_Poem by Betina Hershey Russo

In the middle of the night
The palm fronds glow white,
Tear drops hang like balloons from stars,
And adobe houses shine orange and green and purple.
Eggs peek up in rows at the green hay
And dreams turn into x's and o's
And roll down the streets,
Filling up the drains with their red snoring.
This is my city, my normally gray, tall city,
Turned into a Florida party.
I met it tonight, after the 5th mosquito bite,
Swelling red and telling tales
Of secret swamps, alligators
And a bright white palm tree.

Perky Mat: 2001_Ink&ColorPencil_Drawing3 by Carol Hershey

10/12/08_Poem by Betina Hershey Russo

Peek-a-boo!

Imagine me curled up
On a perfect Sunday afternoon
In October, lovely, fresh, still-warm October,
Covered with the puffiest blue blanket,
About to fall asleep on my bamboo mat.

And imagine my ears
Hearing silence, curious silence
Free of guitar plucks, free of rewind, play,
Rewind, play, scribble, scribble.

Yes, imagine me peeking
With my bulging ear-eyes
Around corners, over furniture,
Right at you on the bed,
Happily, importantly typing away.

Later, in your panicked rush, you wondered
Where the time went
But I know. I saw,
Even in my sleep.

Peek-a-boo!

Soft Glow: 1998_ColorPencil_Drawing1 by Carol Hershey

10/11/08_Poem by Betina Hershey Russo

So soft, the twilight glow
Over a busy town full of harvest.
You are sleepy and content
And I, tucked into my bed, am smiling
At your 38 year self.
We have it good. The hens are laying,
The cows produce milk, the sun shines,
And our bundle of love keeps growing,
Even after getting ripped open
By hungry birds.

Blue Mask: 2006_WaterColor5 by Carol Hershey

10/9/08_Poem by Betina Hershey Russo

I cannot speak, I cannot tell
Just what kind of personal hell
I'm drowning in, and yet, oh yes,
This oceanic surge of blue
It lifts me through this kelpy mess,
Reminds me how your heart is true
And oh, life loops and longs for YES.

Yes, yes, release, undress!

Oh dear, my eyes, they're bugging out
My mouth clamps shut while folklores sprout,
And oh, I so long to confess
My soul, sweet soul, it drips with beads
And blue, blue, so much blue
All pulling me back through the weeds to you.

Cosmic Creature: 1985+89_ColorPencil_Cosmic Creature by Carol Hershey

10/7/08_Poem by Betina Hershey Russo

Cosmic Creature

I have my skirts, my beads, my flounce
My antennas are combed, my face raised
And those brain waves, soul waves, creation juices
They are turned on, sizzling with peaks and valleys!
Call me cosmic gypsy creature,
Gyrating planetary thing,
Mystical insect reflecting the sky line,
Call me anything at all, but oh, I'm so glad
You always do call me.
My wires are ready to be crossed and tapped
And tickled by your life, by this crazy galaxy.
The stars are out like tarot cards.
I'll read them to you.
And you... oh... you are
So beautiful to me.
Jangle. Swirl. Om. Dip. Brush.

Magic Carpet: 2000_Ink_on_ragpaper3SideA by Carol Hershey

10/3/08_Poem by Betina Hershey Russo

Take me up and away,
Magic rug.
I don't know where to...
Maybe the stars, the planets?
They twinkle so. And oh,
I'd love to see Saturn up close.
Take me up and away
From this dusty floor
And my stomach always begging
For more, more, more.
Take me away from the freezer
Full of ice cream I love to scoop out
With potato chips... mmm.
Away from the piles of music and cards,
Away from my big warm bed.

Be my magic yoga mat rug
And we'll go up and away
Right here, right now
With the in and out of breath.
We'll see stars, we'll spin like moons.
And after we've gone just far enough
The sun salutation
Will bring us home.

Hanging: 2003_Ink_Drawing11 by Carol Hershey

10/2/08_Poem by Betina Hershey Russo

Sometimes I realize
All of my pretty dreams
And my even pulpier un-dreams
Are hanging by a thread.

Here I am, balancing
On the prettiest, littlest wire
While this little gem and that little bead
And those lovely weaves
Dangle from a golden stitch
That is oh, oh, so thin.

Amazing, how that thread holds!
Winds blow! Oh, they gust!
The wire sculpture sways.
It quivers and shivers in each thrust.

Amazing, how I remain
With at least one foot, or no,
One tiny toe planted
Upon the tinsel frame, the iron wreath
Of my pretty life.

Evening Ferris Wheel: 1986_ColorPencil_Drawing3 by Carol Hershey

10/1/08_Poem by Betina Hershey Russo

Evening shadows and tones
Shift and pull at our sleeves
As the ferris wheel lights up
And the we grin and yelp.
We are in the ride of a lifetime -
Life gently lifting us up
And setting us down,
Showing us the sunrise and sunset,
The black holes in our hearts
And the morning glories to wake us
In time for relief.