tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586174889979662352011-11-28T08:54:04.643-08:00Writing about what matters.Kelly Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03632088803987813212noreply@blogger.comBlogger281100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-558617488997966235.post-83216545880643858152010-09-19T16:25:00.000-07:002010-09-19T18:21:54.027-07:00

It's funny how life blindsides us from time to time. I haven't blogged since June 2009 and so much has happened since then. My most recent post (before this one) features a poem I wrote March 26, 2009 after learning I was to be the grandmother of triplets. The same day I received the news, Redoubt, a volcano located in upper Cook Inlet, part of an area near where we live in Homer, Alaska, had

Kelly Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03632088803987813212noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-558617488997966235.post-1111287770734295882009-06-03T08:50:00.000-07:002010-09-19T18:34:48.982-07:00

Yes!(written March 26, 2009)Dedicated to Karim & JenniferOne dayI wake up to the not so far off rumbleOf Mount Redoubt, esteemed Volcano Mother ofThe Land of Ten Thousand Volcanoes, down the street andThe land line ringing off the hook, three loud br-rings! before I reachTo say hello! Flipping on KBBI 890 Homer, PBS to hear a volcano ashfallAdvisory "...in effect from noon to four p.m."...then

Kelly Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03632088803987813212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-558617488997966235.post-68503545303114753012009-03-10T02:16:00.000-07:002009-03-10T02:23:36.870-07:00

SentinelsUntil all of us have made it, none of us has made it- Rosemary Brown- One of my two grandmothers had these incredible huge sunflowers growing on the borders of her garden. She told stories, played guitar, and sang ballads. I sat rapt at her feet. She always had an apron on and was either gathering food from the hen house and garden, or preparing it for others

Kelly Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03632088803987813212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-558617488997966235.post-22433260330314291552009-02-26T01:03:00.000-08:002009-02-26T01:07:55.167-08:00

Unable to die, (no sharp instruments lie by)When the moon is full and I have fallen, weak, upon my knees,Painted upon myself Grief, orange, red, black, instead,Torn at my hair, and madly rubbed charcoal about my staring eyes,Down my cheeks; I gather the Objects,Sacred only to me, to beat the drum of my despair,I draw ancient symbols on my face, my hands, my skin,A forgotten language

Kelly Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03632088803987813212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-558617488997966235.post-65975714779408145542009-02-22T00:43:00.000-08:002009-02-22T00:47:26.256-08:00

The dark glass mirror of each other,Joined like twin halves of a tangerineFlowered Lotus blossom.One heart beating,Spirit. Kelly O'Neal Thompson copyright 2009

Kelly Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03632088803987813212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-558617488997966235.post-80889021819208759312009-02-16T13:24:00.000-08:002009-02-16T13:35:41.054-08:00

Linda, my sister, oldest of we five siblings, sent me a heartbreaking poem yesterday. Dickers, her husband, and my brother-in-law, father to Laurie, stepfather to Julie and David, grandfather to four children, was diagnosed with cancer a few years ago. At the same time, an aneurysm about to burst in his stomach was discovered and he underwent surgery for that. He has been a good soldier

Kelly Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03632088803987813212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-558617488997966235.post-26985149088094175812009-02-08T13:08:00.000-08:002009-02-11T01:35:58.792-08:00

Condo at La Paz Tres Lirios de Cala oil canvas by KellyArrived to whites, browns, maroons, and greens in Homer, Alaska and the crisp embrace of fresh snow, clear skies and sunshine on Friday, February 7th. We left the blue, oranges, and reds of La Paz and the soothing warmth of blazing skies via Cabo San Lucas Wednesday, February 5th.I began to choke on the closed air of airplanes by

Kelly Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03632088803987813212noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-558617488997966235.post-56668540751710415732009-01-23T21:05:00.001-08:002009-01-23T21:53:34.484-08:00

El Sol, the sun is bright today in La Paz. When we left Anchorage on January 6th, the temperature was -15 degrees farenheit, many hours, almost a day later, we landed in San Jose, Bajio Sur, Mexico where it was 70 degrees - a gain of 85 degrees. The sun's short path across our Homer, Alaska sky this time of year is in stark contrast to it's warmth and proximity here in La Paz. Yesterday we went

Kelly Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03632088803987813212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-558617488997966235.post-43101787867577502162009-01-21T13:54:00.000-08:002009-01-21T14:41:41.613-08:00

I ran across Mark Doty's posting of the inaugural poem, "Praise Song for the Day" by Elizabeth Alexander and was inspired to comment:In the poet's reading, I heard common sense, a down to earth presence in the words and voice, a simple (but not simplistic) note without pretension. I heard a call to love that echoed the essence of a particular place in history, a crossroads in which America stands

Kelly Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03632088803987813212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-558617488997966235.post-52923625526712614332009-01-20T11:26:00.000-08:002009-01-21T14:26:30.096-08:00

The tears came during the final few minutes of his speech. Turning toward my husband, Wayne, I saw that he, too, was wiping away tears. I knew that this moment in history would have great meaning for us, but I did not anticipate the force with which it struck. For those, like us, who were impressionable children when JFK took office (Wayne was eleven, I was seven) and then when JKF, MLK, and

Kelly Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03632088803987813212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-558617488997966235.post-18723367289924394182009-01-13T20:17:00.000-08:002009-01-16T09:52:40.034-08:00

Summer 2005: There is a rainbow, the last fourth of it shining out from the depths of a billowy white cloud with grey edges sitting over some small cove across the bay. The water today is cerulean blue and the trees myriad shades of bright green, the kind of green that comes from mixing blues with yellows, and Clyde is running in what we call a yard, a little over a acre of grass edged with

Kelly Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03632088803987813212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-558617488997966235.post-77732971216312204642009-01-12T18:09:00.000-08:002009-01-12T18:18:46.784-08:00

La Paz, Mexico. Blessed sun and plenty of it – I am here for a month, my first trip to Mexico. I won’t say how many years have passed, but I will say it’s about time. I love the sound of the Spanish language. It has a lyric quality, comforting, soft and lilting, yet it is a passionate language also. The tempo and emphasis may change but it all comes from the same composer with its many

Kelly Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03632088803987813212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-558617488997966235.post-38352032944593332582009-01-01T18:25:00.000-08:002009-01-16T09:49:35.631-08:00

Consider this: Multiple shades of blue marble the watered landscape, the barest hint of fuschia, like spilled paint, spreads outward over the sky, the alders trace a cold outline of deep maroon in the foreground. Traces of the New Year sun backlights the mountains across the bay, an ocher glow. Grewingk glacier makes a nonchalant retreat, holding the land like water cupped in a palm and

Kelly Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03632088803987813212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-558617488997966235.post-54421422164318747912008-12-24T19:12:00.000-08:002008-12-24T19:47:09.318-08:00

A few thoughts on this, this evening, this night before the dawn, and the birth of whatever is new in each of us. May each of us feel that inner spark within and gently treasure it; may we kindle it into flame and fire, may it then burn steady so that we may warm others in the days and years ahead. Best on this, the solstice and the season - Kelly.Photograph of Kelly with grandson, Jeremy -

Kelly Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03632088803987813212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-558617488997966235.post-63462502968890436772008-12-21T00:41:00.000-08:002008-12-21T14:42:42.096-08:00

In Alaska, I do not think of it anymore. VastSpace can hold a broken heart,A hundred thousand rivers, lush with lupine,The reaching fingers of tributaries, pebble-heavy,The small prayers making their way up creeks,To rest in pools, bathe in a mother’s still cryWet in the water’s glint, lost in the flash of whiteHard current, prayers hurtling themselves to the sky-Carpe diem! Before they die,

Kelly Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03632088803987813212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-558617488997966235.post-6598224330250223682008-12-19T15:49:00.000-08:002008-12-19T15:57:43.378-08:00

I ran across the definition of a pantoum the other day and decided to try my hand at one:The World Wide Web Spreads Its NetThe new leader of the revolution is a poet,He waves the baton before schools of fish,Like Billy Collins, he makes poetry accessible,He reads the manifesto, shaking his fist.He waves the baton before schools of fishSinging the revolution song of the zillions,He reads the

Kelly Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03632088803987813212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-558617488997966235.post-11476904028836890792008-12-15T12:35:00.000-08:002008-12-19T16:01:15.886-08:00

Think of the parallel universe, of the many selves, of the eternal now moment that offers upan eternally new past, a possible future,Think of yourself as you might exist ubiquitous or only microscopically - but both at once-the particle in the wave.Decide.Decide to exist wherever it feels best - don't get caught in the moment when there are so many to choose from.Climb the board of alternate

Kelly Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03632088803987813212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-558617488997966235.post-75500785168586385992008-12-09T11:41:00.000-08:002008-12-09T14:26:31.680-08:00

There is such a thing as a dog-person and I am not one of them. I have had only one other dog, other than Clyde, in my life - that was Angel, a small German Shepherd mixed breed of mutt. Angel was the puppy we got for my daughters when they were elementary school age and she came to be one of the family.Angel had a litter of pups and we kept one that we named Decker - for that wild part of me,

Kelly Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03632088803987813212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-558617488997966235.post-68945123922635746472008-12-06T01:03:00.000-08:002008-12-06T02:09:13.945-08:00

Just returned from a long, wonderful trip to Southern Californiawhere I soaked up a big, fat dose of sunshine, friendship, and family. The malls, rush-hour traffic, and the general, all-around sense of everywhere people-ness more than gratified me.The first few days, I felt like someone beamed up warp-speed to an alternate universe - popping eye candy. I come home with five senses overflowing -

Kelly Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03632088803987813212noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-558617488997966235.post-5789580120377377972008-11-13T14:44:00.000-08:002008-11-13T15:13:46.263-08:00

Mark Doty's post of a photograph of a stone sculpture on his blogspot http://www.markdoty.blogspot.com inspired me to post one of my poems:UntitledI polish his bones with my hands,crumple his facelike sheets of soft paper.Only his ice blue eyes remain,Cracked porcelain marblesI roll in my mouthuntil they are petrified wood,caramel rivers of sweetflowing through blood;and the pores of my skinopen

Kelly Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03632088803987813212noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-558617488997966235.post-56911780160889969972008-11-08T13:28:00.000-08:002008-11-08T20:34:16.249-08:00

Clyde and I take Jeremy's Trail again, down to our favorite perch on the bluff overlooking the ocean. The tide is coming in and the sun, which rose at 8:44 a.m. and will set today at 4:54 p.m., is making its short climb above the Grewingk Glacier and the mountains across the bay. It's a high tide coming in, almost 16 feet today.Wayne d. Thompson,Photographerwww.journeysendphotography.comWe sit

Kelly Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03632088803987813212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-558617488997966235.post-3320856532808349312008-11-07T23:02:00.000-08:002008-11-08T20:39:47.349-08:00

"I happen temporarily to occupy this big White House. I am living witness that any one of your children may look to come here as my father's child has." Abraham Lincoln

Kelly Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03632088803987813212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-558617488997966235.post-47059488468782671752008-11-04T14:55:00.000-08:002008-11-05T13:41:54.951-08:00

No lines at the polls here in Homer, Alaska, just a steady flow of voters. After voting, I headed toward downtown Homer to check my mail at the post office. I noticed a fairly good-size clump of people in the park right on the corner of Pioneer and Lake. They were waving signs for McCain/Palin and Paul Seaton, a local Republican representative, and there was even one sign for Ted Stevens.

Kelly Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03632088803987813212noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-558617488997966235.post-2951363139227658322008-10-31T15:43:00.000-07:002008-10-31T16:04:03.222-07:00

I have received two emails in recent days warning that Barack Obama is the new Hitler. One was couched as a personal email from a survivor of Nazi Germany; the most recent quotes Fouad Ajami, with an emphasis on his Arab-American ethnicity, as a source for why Obama is to be feared. These are indeed difficult and exciting times: difficult in part because information is irresponsibly

Kelly Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03632088803987813212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-558617488997966235.post-67455097080139756902008-10-28T21:14:00.000-07:002008-10-28T22:01:19.701-07:00

In both humility and hope, this is my endorsement of Barack Obama for President of the United States of America. Because he speaks so well for himself, I will quote his words from the prologue of his book, The Audacity of Hope:...I am new enough on the national political scene that I serve as a blank screen on which people of vastly different political stripes project their own views. As such

Kelly Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03632088803987813212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-558617488997966235.post-6709747639323334482008-10-26T15:28:00.000-07:002008-10-26T15:53:08.925-07:00

Clyde, the Fraud Dog, and I head down Jeremy’s Trail on our bluff and perch on the spot just before the deep drop where Jeremy tied the rope off. I can see the tide as it comes in, close below us, hear the busy sound of breaking water, its soothing rhythm. The sun is high in the sky, as high as it will get today and I look up steadily, straight at it, like I warned my children not to,

Kelly Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03632088803987813212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-558617488997966235.post-39065623294159876342008-10-26T01:30:00.000-07:002008-10-26T01:34:25.807-07:00

There is nothing more beautiful than a soft southern accent like mymother,father and ky people had and have!! They were born with a songin their voices, and I wish I could of been so lucky----dad

Kelly Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03632088803987813212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-558617488997966235.post-73741577647255403652008-10-24T12:53:00.000-07:002008-10-26T01:28:58.447-07:00

I read "A Parchment of Leaves" next to the Eden House pool in Key West just after meeting Silas House at Key West Literary Seminar in January 2008. I finished "Coal Tattoo" and "Clay's Quilt" in front of our wood stove here in Homer, Alaska upon returning home. Reading his novels is like listening to my family talk. They take me back to Sunday dinners and Pa and Grandma's house, we ate chicken

Kelly Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03632088803987813212noreply@blogger.com2