Gone Rogue – Year 3

For the past three years I have had the pleasure to be inspired by a four-day/three-night rafting trip with Noah’s River Adventures (http://noahsrafting.com/) on the Wild & Scenic Rogue River.

Here’s this year 3’s reflection followed by a link to year 4’s.

Into the wild and scenic with a yogi,
Several scientists, teachers, writers
A designer and a builder retired
One art historian and a social justice fighter
 
Three night, 43-mile Rogue River party
Padded seat, kayak, or paddle raft rowing
Churning through steep rock walls of Mule Creek Canyon
And boulder-strewn Blossom Bar Rapids before slowing
 
Miners, early settlers, heart of the river story
Relayed by Dustin and Abraham Lincoln (Tillman)
A bouncy rap flowed from Bobby Dee
While guides slice fruit for guests to munch on
 
For rock hounds, plenty of chalcedony
Into harmony, spirit, body, and mind
Whisky Creek Cabin, between Grave Creek and Rum
100 proof prospectors more into booze than 79
 
Glimpsed eagles, minks, a bear picking berries,
Saw turtles, but no Dove (name of a guide who is on the move)
Diverse, inclusive flotilla communities
Converse about food and love...
 
Those hickeys are cupping, “my lover’s a lamprey”
“Sunchocola is a sweet, smoky tomato”
“Wish you’d label your mealworms”
“I (Leon) row for burritos.”
 
Of separation, some discovered degrees
For shooting stars or yoga practice
“Come to your mat or situation”
While time still hums on its axis
 
Absorbed SPF that’s vegan, gluten-free
Swam with Tuna, a sweet pup
Learned we’re “not related to Gerbils”
(Morning) Joe and High Desert Pure many’s the giddy-up
 
Under the waning sun, Rebecca stung by a bee
Duckies (inflatable kayaks) dive into white water ala pochards
Austin turned into Moses right before our eyes
Since 1974, Noah’s River Ark is the vanguard
 
~ Just L (August 16-19, 2019)
Read "Rogue Love - Year 4":
https://justlpoetry.com/2020/08/18/rogue-love-year-4/
Duckies for those who are derring-do.

Rogue Love – Year 4

For the past four years I have had the pleasure to be inspired by a four-day/three-night rafting trip with Noah’s River Adventures (http://noahsrafting.com/) on the Wild & Scenic Rogue River.

Here’s this year’s reflection followed by last year’s.

Rogue Love – Year 4

It feels like being in your favorite worn-in college hoodie drinking coffee on a cool morning anticipating the day’s adventure, cozy and familiar.

It feels warm on your skin like the scorching sunshine that accompanies the best whitewater of the season or a wind-powered hair dryer in the Narrows between Mule Creek and Blossom Bar, glowing (or blowing) with laughter.

It feels like a jump from a high rock into the cool rushing Rogue River in the height of August, right after your raft survived the Class V rapids,  exhilarating and free.

It feels secret akin the hike to Tate Creek Falls that ends in a rope climb to the top of the waterfall, then a 10-foot drop down a natural water slide to a hidden swimming hole, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

It feels like walking through the Siskiyou National Forest on a summer evening,  each moss-laden branch forms a cathedral of conifers that surround you, serene and breathtaking.

It feels bright as Perseids peak, a celestial event best viewed with the moonlight blocked out by the rock gorges with nearly vertical walls, towering cliffs and majestic stands of the Wild Rogue Wilderness, absolutely awe-inspiring.

The wilderness is a uniquely American idea, and it is here – in this varied magical landscape – where I feel I rediscover playing outdoors, diverse wildlife, wildly deepened friendships, and gratitude as expert guides traverse the challenging 34-mile stretch between Grave Creek and Foster Bar.

~Just L (August 14-17, 2020)

Read “Gone Rogue – Year 3”:

https://justlpoetry.com/2020/08/18/gone-rogue-year-3/

Sharing my love of this epic river adventure with friends is the best!

Love Signs

You are cool as a cucumber
Until Aries enters the house
Warming your starchy skin
in a pair of worn Levi Strauss

I love freedom and risk
You landlocked by protocol
Exhilarating, tender,
a contradictory coupling, we helplessly fall

First child’s flame singes virgin wings
Ever challenging your M.O.
Too easy when your taste for the exotic
is Jicama, aka the Mexican potato

Craving each other with every fiber
Our attraction feels so fated
Impossible to resist the razor’s edge
between being loved and hated

~ Just L (July 8, 2019)

We Made A Match

We made a match
Had a short chat
He’s smart, stylish
And has a cat.

Cool and confident
Know I’m a catch
I put myself online
Set to be attached.

“Meet up tonight?”
Finding myself in his hood
Shared backstories and kisses
This is too good.

My heart receptive
Spirit strong and light
Breathing in the moment
Aware of fight or flight.

Open and kind
Articulate, creative
And, I kinda like him
He, too, feel the weight of?

~Just L (May 19, 2019)

Author’s Note: Simply tracking the subtle opening and closing of my heart after initiating a connection. Is the Universe conspiring to accelerate gravity? Naaah, it won’t last.

NaPoWriMo Day 4: My Chanel Boots

Leather Chanel boots made in Italy
They are my most beloved pair ever
All black quilted lambskin up to my knees
Classic with all the signature details
The small silver bead circles at the heel
Cap toe with large Chanel logo stitching
I wear these boots September through April
Perfect with jeans, dresses, always sexy
Zip up shiny palladium hardware
Slip in lined black leather interior
Strut the high fashion runway if you dare
Couture shine outsoles need yearly repair
My cobbler a pro at restoration
Informed me this will be their last season.

~ Just L (NaPoWriMo, April 4, 2019)

NaPoWriMo 2019, Day 4 Prompt: write your own sad poem, but one that achieves sadness through simplicity.

Author’s Note: I wrote a sonnet about my boots. Really sad.

Gag Me

Valentine’s Day, a Thursday in 2008
The school of heart knocks I did graduate

Integrity questioned, advanced education dis
How could I be so blind going into this?

Driven home from the church office by an elder
“You’re a very smart girl”…

“Make better choices in the future”
I thought, like not trusting my pastor?

I sought the solace of church in 2003
In the front pew with my broken family

Two years’ prior I was all consumed
Raped by a national act post-honeymoon

Followed by my spouse’s spiral into meth
I cried, I screamed, I held my breath

Juggling a college career, a business, an aspiring author
Raising my own plus two bonus daughters

I threw myself into the growing congregation
My management talents and skills met with elation

“We need you on staff, I need you please”
In meetings, emails begging… Geez Louise!

Promising me work for ten years,
In 2006, I gave up a successful career

Convinced to help the pastor reach his mountain top
Enticed by “a calling” my dreams of VP I would swap

So, I raised $50K, 6-months wages to sustain me
Agreed to two years before coming on salary

Found pastoral staff with no education earned 40-50 grand
To work 18/hours/week as logged by their own hand

A church of 500+ with no line item budget or personnel policies
Pastors spending funds on personal items with no apologies

Tirelessly, I worked 60/hours/week to get them out of a jamb
Little did I know then I would become the sacrificial lamb

I was given “love offerings” and a loan to save my home
Believing your word is your oath, I had tunnel vision syndrome

Meanwhile my meth- and sex-addicted husband had run out
Still, “Praise the Lord,” I would shout!

With blood, sweat and tears, I kept my eye on the prize
Late 2007, cashed out my PERS Tier 1 for the promise of the finish line

January 2008, to Oahu for Doing Church as a Team Conference
While I was away an investigation on me had commenced

Church council claimed they had no idea I’d worked past December 2006
Each had seen me in the office, known me intimately, are they sick?

And, when the pastor was questioned about how he was involved
He denied, he lied, responsibility for his actions absolved

After all, his administrative team were three educated women
Who cares what they witnessed with their own eyes and ears, or when?

The council president – with a vote of no confidence – fired me
(14 days short of coming on salary) Happy two-year anniversary!

~ Just L (April 3, 2019)

Author’s Note: I mostly write bad romantic poetry about love and loss. I was first published in 1997, and sometimes my closest friends cringe as they recognize who I am writing about. This may be the most intimate story I have ever shared publicly. More so than my sexual assault by Lynch Mob’s band and manager, which occurred in 2001.

It’s been a decade since the church tried to, by court order, gag me in late spring 2009. In light of the stories (including my own) of the “Me, too” movement, and the HBO series, “Leaving Neverland,” which exposed how children and families were groomed for sexual abuse, it has struck me how I, too, had been groomed for a different kind of exploitation. My talents and skills were used for another’s gain and acclaim.

After I was fired as administrator of the church, and while being the object of gossip and ridicule, I continued to sit proudly on the front pew of the church each Sunday. More than one year later, the church sued me for over $200,000. The amount included money I had raised for my contract, love offerings, my retirement and other funds I had given to the church as donations and offerings. It also included the loan my husband and I had signed a promissory note for, but he was never named in the law suit.

I never went back. The very people who had given me emotional support through my separation, had been mentors to my children, and had sat at my kitchen table, had betrayed me.

I was advised by my attorney to settle the civil suit and sign an (untrue) affidavit hidden in the church lawyer’s vault to be used against me at a later date (if I did not cooperate) to avoid sensationalized headlines and ruin my public service career. In truth, I agreed to settle the case in order to allow my children and the children of the pastor to avoid suffering shame and embarrassment during their late teen years as they began lives and careers of their own in our small community. It wasn’t long after said pastor was “promoted” to a position in another state.

There is nothing private about a settlement. I can count the number of times this court record has been made public to humiliate or harass me over the past ten years. The story does not magically go away. It doesn’t matter if I was innocent, praised by the church’s corporate lawyers who were not a party to the case, or vindicated by some, it is forever on record for those who want to cause harm. Meanwhile, those directly involved never suffered the consequences of their actions, a hit to their professional reputation or financial losses, “forgave me” (HAH!!!), and never looked back.

I have remained quiet for too long, not to protect my users/abusers or to save myself. After sacrificing my coveted PERS Tier 1 retirement (which I had earned since 1993, and in all my years as a struggling single mother had never touched, and would have now, at the age of 55, sustained me in the amount of approximately $4,500/month), as well as being fired from two jobs (at half of my previous salary before attending church) as a direct result of settling said lawsuit, God knows that didn’t happen!

What are they going to do, sue me?

I am quite certain if I had been a man I would have never been sued. We would all be outraged. And, I would be raking in a book deal.

I am presently single, and living my best life as a nonprofit management consultant and grant writer in Oregon and Mexico. I have acquired over $230 million in grants and awards for nonprofit organizations in my community. I cannot say that God has made up for what the locusts have eaten; however, I have on occasion run into some of those involved… And I celebrate because I am free! That is indeed priceless.

NaPoWriMo Day 2: Truth or Fiction?

Maneuvering Vallarta’s sidewalks without a care in the world,
My bar owner friend beckons, “Come over here girl!”

“Lori this is Mark, Mark this is Lori”
Certain she had launched a great love story.

I’m a sucker for all seven types of artists;
With destiny did I make a tryst?

Perched on the barstool breeze at my back,
Heart full, plans ahead, I have no lack.

Swearing off dating a musician just last year,
Anticipation hangs in the thick, warm air.

Seduced by confidence, and sound of his laughter,
Can sharing a glass of wine turn into ever after?

~Just L (NaPoWriMo, April 2, 2019)

 NaPoWriMo 2019, Day 2 Prompt: write a poem that resists closure by ending on a question, inviting the reader to continue the process of reading (and, in some ways, writing) the poem even after the poem ends.

NaPoWriMo Day 1: How to Honor the Visible and the Invisible

You may know her by her dazzling, infectious smile
Or breasts to die for, “the best money can buy”
(she’d quip)
In reality, this is only how you might recognize her
Her carefree brazenness masked depression inside.

Her kind, compassionate words; heartfelt, honest talks
A lifetime of experiences that made her hard, yet soft
Her volunteer work was far and above
Whether giving advice from a barstool or art from her loft.

Her imaginative paintings reflected her vibrant soul
Whimsical, off-kilter landscapes that seem exactly right
For those among us who’ve traveled a winding path
The colors of Puerto Vallarta are not as bright tonight.

Far too many brilliant stars are seen and not heard
Lest you think painting in the buff is obscene
(she often painted in the nude)
Know she’s in the heavens now, naked and unafraid
Paint the sky any color you want, my dear Francine!

~ Just L (NaPoWriMo, April 1, 2019)

Read Francine’s story here.

NaPoWriMo 2019, Day 1 Prompt: write a poem that provides the reader with instructions on how to do something.

Author’s Note: In loving memory of Francine Peters who lost her battle with depression on the eve of International Transgender Day of Visibility 2019.

A sunset celebration of Francine Peters life is scheduled for Thursday, April 4, 2019, 6:30pm at Langostinos on Playa Los Muertos, Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. All are welcome.

“Do not assume that [s]he who seeks to comfort you now, lives untroubled among the simple and quiet words that sometimes do you good. [Her] life may also have much sadness and difficulty, that remains far beyond yours. Were it otherwise, [s]he would never have been able to find these words.” ― Rainer Maria Rilke

You Wish

You were dishonest
By omission, as they say
When she is no longer the one
You want to walk slowly with
And she runs ahead…
You’ll ask, “Still friends?”
You wish.

~ Just L (February 16, 2019)

Author’s Note: When you are seeing multiple women, especially if you are intimate, and run in the same small circles, a heads up is just common courtesy, and when you have an interest in seriously pursuing another woman in particular, just say so. And, if you are serious, it might be a good idea to stop sending flirty texts or photos to others (read: me).

 

 

He Prefers Necklaces That Choke

He prefers necklaces that choke
Insists he’s just some bloke

One who doesn’t bite, mostly
He promises infinity

So, the tumble begins
The golden smile sunsets;

In the end, darkness descends,
Blood stained.

Most of forever deprived
A dying rose on the table,

A blood red soul
Put to rest, in the netherworld.

~Just L (February 11, 2019)