Best Friends

¡Me gusta la comida mexicana!

Dining Out ♦ An Evening at Cappy’s Restaurant

Dining Out: La Fiesta Patio Cafe

A Flower Bud in Snow

A delicate young bud
longing for warmth
in the depths of an early Spring snow

She shivers and clings
to the promise of Spring
when gentle rains will help her grow

Bathed in sunlight
firmly rooted in soil
a wondrous flower will appear

A proof of life
and strength of will
a sign that Spring is almost here

LOST

Photo by Jen Mandell © 2013. All Rights Reserved.

LOST

A world out of rhythm

a world without rhyme

life without purpose

lost in vacuous time

Grasping for footing

while fleeing the past

searching for meaning

in things that don’t last

A stormy darkness reveals

a soul left behind

struggling for answers

the soul cannot find

Yet out of the darkness

a light does emerge

from that deep inner space

where dreams converge

Lending their strength

before fading away

bending to the will

of another new day

© 2013 Jennifer Mandell. All Rights Reserved.

A Dog and a Bush

         We once had a bush by our back door. It seemed much in need of a trim. I had never owned (or even used) a pair of loppers before and, so, became a little drunk with my new found lopping power.  My boyfriend asked me to stop…then pleaded, then insisted, then finally just walked away. It was not long before the bush became a stump and then the stump became an impaling stick. Since it was so close to the doorway, the impaling stick seemed like a real liability.  A heavy-duty truck had to be employed to remove this sharp little nubby because, apparently, mighty bush roots grow deep and wide.  To his credit, my boyfriend remained with me in spite of the bush episode and hundreds of other moments just like it.

      I was reminded of the bush incident tonight, as I continued to trudge through a basement filled with boxes upon boxes of old records, fully equipped with my trusted black Sharpie.  Even though our new fire-pit arrives via fed-ex tomorrow and my boyfriend has begged me not to waste time “redacting” personal and financial information from the paper scraps that are intended to be tinder, here I am at 12:00am with marker in hand and going strong until, finally, my “redacting” project is done.

       Cognizant of all of this as I scratch out my personal data with a vengeance, I ask myself why I do these things.  Lop, lop, lop with the loppers.  Scratch, scratch, scratch with the marker.  Then, as if in response to these questions, I came across an old credit card bill.  It is strange just how much going through old boxes of papers in your basement can be like an archaeological dig at the site of some long-lost civilization and how an old credit card bill can tell quite a story — short, simple, and blunt.

      March 7, vet visit (dog has scratched his eyeball and it is now infected), $315.  March 9, vet visit (dog is having adverse reaction to eyeball medication), $298.  March 13, emergency vet clinic (2:27 am, dog manages to get small object lodged in his nose and starts making a horrible choking sound), $267.  March 14, follow-up care with regular vet (new medication regime is prescribed requiring hourly dosing), $99.  March 15-17, vet care plus boarding (because, dear mother of God, I have a trial in 2 days to prepare for and I just can’t keep driving to the vets every other hour), $197.  March 18, Giant Food Store for wine and cheese (trial is over, client's custody case has been dismissed because she did not show up for court for the third time in a row, and client has left voice mail message emphatically stating that she will not be paying her legal bill), $37.92.  March 19 (at approximately 1:58 pm), beloved dog decides to dine on a tarp, requiring yet another visit to the vet's office (tarp removal), $212.87.  March 19 (3:05pm, while dog waits in car), ABC store charge for Jose Cuervo and a bottle of lime juice, $38.95.

      Suddenly, the reasons why moments like the bush lopping and the paper mark-ups occur seem very clear and simple to me.  Lop, lop, lop.  Scratch, scratch, scratch.  Drink, drink, drink.  And people ask me why I don’t have children.

© 2013  Jennifer Mandell.  All rights reserved.

NIGHT SONGS

Photo by Jennifer Mandell

A phantom cry
a distant voice
whispers in the wind

A haunting sound
that echos around
searching for a friend

As darkness falls

that longing calls

in a world vast and wide

Searching for spring

in the smallest of things

casting his doubts aside

On tiny brown wings

this nightingale sings

shattering the silent night

With the break of dawn

the darkness now gone

he disappears from sight

© 2012  Jennifer Mandell.  All rights reserved.

NEVER GONE

Photo by Jennifer Mandell © 2012  

I appreciate my mind and the things it can do,

the enduring sense of optimism I inherited from you,

the strings on my guitar and the notes they can play,

the little joys I find in each passing day.

I appreciate the little things that make me smile,

and anything that can engross me for a while,

the colorful brilliance of the late evening sky,

the softness of the grass in the field where I lie.

The sound of laughter and the shedding of tears,

friendships that have endured throughout the years,

the promises of spring and the smells of fall,

the way that I still remember it all.

I appreciate that life is here and then it's gone,

that the truths are things we have known all along,

that the real measure of a life well-lived

lies in a person's capacity to give.

It matters not the material things left behind,

but how often you cross another person's mind,

are others inspired by the life that you've led,

do you motivate them to get out of bed.

To dust themselves off and try yet again,

to be there for others that they call "friend",

to be more than they thought they could be,

you were one of those people for me.

Not here anymore, but not really gone,

because my memories of you still live on.

© 2012  Jennifer Mandell.  All rights reserved.

WORDS

In the darkest of hours

in a world far away

I contemplate life

and size up the day

I recall the times

and people now gone

of scents and of faces

I’ve known all along

Of places imagined

and a world unseen

of words not spoken

and a heart in between

Between what I say

and what I feel

the words are a lie

masking what’s real

Just letters on a page

that is all that I have

words are salvation

words are a salve

Words illuminate

and words do lie

words tell the truth

and allow us to hide

In the darkest of hours

lost to the night

words that have meaning

awaiting daylight

Drowning in noise

that crashes around

a soul that cries out

without a sound

These words that echo

aloud in my head

seeking salvation

as I lay in my bed

I think of a time

now far from view

I think of meaning

and I remember you

In the darkest of hours

a world far from sight

a memory of hope

in the darkest of night

Words are inadequate 

to sum up the day

of people and places

of a world far away

Lost now from view

but not from the heart

a world far away

but never apart

© 2012 by Jennifer Mandell.  All rights reserved.

ONE BREATH

Life is constant motion

yet unwavering and still

life defies direction

yet bends to the will

Life is a shimmering prism

an expanse vast and deep

nothing left to lose

nothing here to keep

Life is a singular moment

just this one tiny breath

separating then from now

existence from death

Life is one long journey

moments fleeting and rare

life is an open question

left hanging in the air

Life is always measured

priceless but at a cost

never truly broken

never really lost

© 2012  Jennifer Mandell

GHOSTS IN THE NIGHT

Out of the closet

and onto the page

words with no meaning

a cold, icy rage

Darkness to the left

storms to my right

no time to quit

or put up a fight

These ghosts of mine

keep circling around

holding me back

tying me down

Searching for truth

in these things that I find

playing with words

and wasting my time

From silver to gold

the sun travels west

shouting its tales

to a world still at rest

The night takes hold

and blankets my room

the day fades away

I cling to the moon

These words in my head

will recede with the light

back to the closet

just ghosts in the night

© 2012  Jennifer Mandell.  All rights reserved.

LIFE IN WORDS

Life has a way of spinning around,

of lifting off and crashing down. 

Life can disappoint and life can thrill,

moving fast and then standing still. 

Life is silent and life is loud,

you stand alone amid the crowd. 

Feet planted firm as you tremble and shake,

eyes closed, but fully awake.

Surrounded by darkness,

blinding and bright,

as shadows of grey

obscure the night.

Descending in mist,

engulfing the soul,

nothing remains unsaid,

no secrets to be told.

Life is random moments,

fleeting, exposed, and raw,

passing no final judgments,

no larger meaning to it all.

Life crashes over you,

lie still, close your eyes.

In stillness there is meaning,

at dawn the sun will rise.

With life there is silence,

still waters raging deep,

a collage of random memories,

pictures that we keep.

In truth there are no words

to adequately describe

the sensation of your soul,

when it is awake and alive.

© 2012  Jennifer Mandell.  All rights reserved.