New Poetry Blog

I've published a book of the poems inspired by my Mamma's art, and now I've moved on to writing poetry about everything and anything that inspires me, still taking from the visual... photographs or art.

Go to the new poetry blog:
http://web.me.com/betinahershey/Betina/Poetry/Poetry.html

(Photograph of my Mother sitting at her kitchen table eating alone before my visit.)

Loose Ends: Face Photo by Betina Hershey Russo

Cut off the loose ends.
Freedom.
It might be choppy,
It might be rough,
But it's new
And lighter.

Let me fly away
Towards the icy lavender sky
Until the darkness breaks the ice
Like a heavy hammer,
Strong, certain, and
Deadly.

Flower Airplane: Original_20X22_Acrylic by Carol Hershey

1/5/08_Poem by Betina Hershey Russo

Pick a flower, cut an orange,
Fold the world into a perfect
Plane and fly it
Towards the horizon.
I am glad to have found
Your pencils and the spider
That tickles me
In between bating flies.
Look how the sun gleams
Through the glass
And creates such lines of light
Upon the lavender curtains.
I'm soaring in my flower plane,
Sorry to be leaving you behind.

Shattered

1/4/08_Poem by Betina Hershey

SHATTERED

Gripping glass in hand
I struggle for composure
In front of our potted plants.
You click, click, click away, brow furrowed, engrossed
By Craig's List again.
I imagine glass shattering, splattering, dancing in broken bits
While you are trying to make a dream come true,
Trying not to let me down in the some near distant future.
Right now, as I ask you again, yes again, to look at me, I remember
To be thankful the vines and African Violets are still somewhat alive
And that you love me enough to dream.

Sundays: 1982_ColorPencil_Drawing2 by Carol Hershey

1/4/08_Poem by Betina Hershey Russo

Sundays

The thing about Sundays:
Tomorrow I'll get up early
And I'm looking forward to the fray
Of seeing people all day
But right now I'm regretting
All the things I've been getting
Myself into
When there's such a lovely sun
Shining throug the window onto my
Newly acquired old flower couch
And the hammock is hanging,
Ever ready for a swing or two,
And the library books have begged
Again and again, "Read me! Read me!"
So getting up too early and leaping up
To go sing in the choir of God's glory
Keeps getting shunted to next Sunday.
Yes, next Sunday I'll finally take those
Two hours to be a part of something
Upliftingly social and maybe even
Get out the yoga mat after, or better -
Invite everyone over for a yoga party.

But my favorite of all
Is to sit here in the sun
With my papers and projects and quiet,
Knowing I've somehow managed
To be here, alone
This Sunday, at least,
Worshiping my own way.

2 Vases: 1979_Ink_Drawing_1 by Carol Hershey

1/3/08_Poem by Betina Hershey Russo

I have two names
Like I'm a vase sitting next to myself, saying
"Hey, Russo, how goes it?"
"Why fine, thanks, Hershey. And you?"
We're two vases chatting, snuggled close,
Overlapping and sometimes confused.
"I wish I had flowers in me today."
"Oh, no, think of the decay."
What will happen when one of us finally falls
And shatters on the floor?
Will I say to myself, "Well, it's for the best.
There really wasn't room up here for two,"
And then sigh?
Perhaps I'll roll down to the pieces
And delicately put them inside my cavernous insides
And enjoy the weight hidden,
The two MEs finally one.

Moon Sliver: 1980_Ink_Drawing4 by Carol Hershey

1/2/08_Poem by Betina Hershey Russo

I never meant to
leave you
Alone on the edge
of a planet,
Rolling, rolling,
rolling.
I see you found three
friends
Who have pointed out
that glorious
Sliver of moon, and
the stars
Freckling the sky.
I may return.
If I do, will you allow
me to land?

Shawn: 1984_PencilDrawing_Shawn by Carol Hershey

1/2/08_Poem by Betina Hershey

A good book
in a quiet
nook
with the smell
of jelly
being smeared
on crackers
for a snack,
ah the rain
can pour
down,
the snow may
pile and drift
but no one
will tear him
away
from his hero
slashing dragons
and the imminent
disaster
of aliens.
Except when the doorbell rings
and it's Joey from the next block
ready with his Star Wars figurines.

Crying T: 1984_ColorPencil_Drawing6 by Carol Hershey

1/2/08_Poem by Betina Hershey Russo

I though we were past the longest night.
Why do I still see shining tears
Flying down from our chimney
Like Christmas lights lighting up the void?
At least the tornado didn't lift our home away
And leave us staring up
At Nothing.

Or would that be better?
Two lost souls in the wilderness
Clinging to each other out of fear...
Rather than two angry citizens
Cutting their meat rather hard
And jabbing at the garbage
Collecting by their slippered feet.

Lamp watching Eggs: 2003_Ink_Drawing29 by Carol Hershey

1/2/08_Poem by Betina Hershey Russo

I keep on
watching
these three
dreams,
these delicate orbs
spinning on
my knee.
Will they survive?
The frost is coming
and last night's volcano
splattered lava
on their cool cases,
though I bent to cover
them with my shade.
My neck grows weary
but I will never stop
watching.
The one time I left
and returned on tiptoe
they looked so pitiful.
All the others
had broken
out of neglect and
fright.
Only these three
still spin here.
I won't turn away
for any sound
until they've hatched.

Onward and Upward: 2007_Ink&ColorPencil_Drawing1 by Carol Hershey

1/1/08_Poem by Betina Hershey

Onward,
red
warrior
flower,
into the dew frost,
the winter fray.
Shine upward
with certain petal
and calm quill!
Two thousand and nine
little lambs bleat and dribble
all over the moss.
We will all
see twilight's
purple,
luscious
new
year
so onward
and upward.