Helen, Jen and Maura

Trio of white-haired ladies
Grand Dames in the beholder's eyes
Denim jackets easy walking shoes
Coffees on the common table between them
Planning out informally
Their misadventures as they loved to call them
Forays out of this their favorite haunt
Into the world of art, science and sport
Their husbands and children and grandchildren
Shaking their heads
Not so much at their tales
Brought back and retold from their treks
As from the rather eclectic menu of morsels
Choice experiences
Grown grandmothers full of life

Of course
The trio would say
Now more than ever

They'd mix opera with baseball
Ballet with soap box derby
Movies with a calculus symposium over at the university
Visiting mathematicians discussing formulas
Brushing up against the borderline with philosophy
Their favorite seasoning
Their busman's holiday
The conferees totally unaware
That this trio of white-haired ladies
This trio of visiting scholars
Had once ruled the mathematics departments
At the local middle school
High school and
Community College
Brighter many of their colleagues always thought
Fiercely bright their colleagues would say
Ivy League bright
Much brighter than folks in their positions usually are it was said

Nonsense the trio would say
You'd be surprised at how we are bright the trio would  laugh out loud

Brilliance comes in all shapes and sizes
Helen had confided quietly
To her granddaughter Cassie
In whom she could see a sparkle in her eye
Helen had never before really believed in that expression
Until she saw it personified in this 13-year-old
Yes there it is yes
Helen would catch herself noticing
But now Helen would never doubt the expression
There in the sparkle in dear young Cassie's eye
Her second daughter's brightest daughter
Not that her other grandchildren weren't bright too
But this sparkle is exactly what Helen was talking about
Helen could tell for sure
From the sparkle in Cassie's eye bless her soul
Oh praise be to God
Helen knew she could believe in immortality
In her immortality
In their immortality
The trio's

Helen had once confided her findings to her confessor
And would in due time share her feelings
Her findings
Her solution to the equation
Her proof
Her faith
Share it with the other two women
Sitting at the common cafe table between them
Sitting with her favorite compatriots
Her conspirators
Her Jen and her Maura
She'd tell them that for sure
Cassie
And Jen's granddaughter Lena
And Maura's Colleen
Yes oh yes my dear sisters
These girls their generation
They would be their immortality
They'd be their continuation on nearth
They'd be the future matriarchs for generations to come
They'd carry on this magical aura
We'd coax them Jen and Maura
We must encourage them
To see the beauty in this menagerie
As their grand moms do
The grand mosaic of human expressions
The explorations
Not as mathematicians necessarily
But as artists scientists and athletes
Attempting to dig out the meanings
Of life and love and laughter and fun
Of challenge and death and heartbreak and reconciliation
Of work that is play and play that is work
And play that is nurturing and nourishing
Expressions discovered to help humans wander better
And wandering to fuel the endless wonderings better
From here to there and back again on  their journey to the pool
Where the mysteries would all be revealed
Sing praise sing honor sing glory sing Amazing Grace Amen

You said it, nodded Jen when Helen finally had had enough courage to share
Ah but how asked Maura ever the practical one
Staerting next week next Friday
We'll take them to see The Mariners Friday night Helen said
Maybe eat at some exotic cuisine restaurant before the game
And for a present give them their own copies
Of Oscar Wilde's plays
Assign them one of the plays to read
Which the six of us will dissect two weeks after
In Huskies' Football stadium
When we can wander in all alone
Bring sandwiches
And feel the presence of that brilliant open-air cathedral
Doing wonders to the imagination
As big as Wilde's himself
The twinkle in her eye convinced Jen and Maura
Of the brilliance of the scheme

Trio of white-haired ladies
Grand Dames in the beholder's eyes
Denim jackets easy walking shoes
Coffees on the common table between them
Planning out informally
Their misadventures as they loved to call them
Forays out of this their favorite haunt
Into the world of art, science and sports.


For Sketches
Denis J. Kelly
June 22, 2012

It Had Gotten To The Point

It had gotten to the point
Where his wife wouldn't dance with him
Unless he promised not to raise his arms
That way
It was embarassing she said

But he couldn't help it
The music got into his shoulders
Around his neck
My shoulder girdle he would say
The opposite of Elvis
Whose gyrations whose gift
Was centered more in the hip girdle
Or so he would tell his wife
He just couldn't help it

She said he looks like he is doing a tai chi routine
On the dance floor only faster
Making funny formations with shoulders arms hands
Like some little teapot from the nursery rhymes
Arms and legs all akimbo
Like some fluid ever-changing abstract sculpture
Water to ice to vapor back to water
Changing like one of those moving billboards
That have images on three sides
Rotated every 10 seconds
To reveal a triangulated message
Come Josephine
In my flying machine
Going up and down

Exactly he said to her exactly

Oh no she moaned what have I done
Have I encouraged this insanity

Exactly he said exactly

I'm sitting down then Mister Teapot she said
Although she had to laugh despite herself

It had gotten to the point
Where his wife wouldn't dance with him
Unless he promised not to use his arms
That way
It was embarrassing she said

Exactly he said exactly
But not embarrassing
Free form art he said

Like I said she said

It had gotten to the point


For Sketches
By Denis J. Kelly
June 13, 2012

Sal

Sal chose crayons
His instrument of choice
Waxed color on paper
Instrument of youth
Surfaces covered thick
Pigments coating unevenly
Pure blankets mostly
Although periodic breaks
To show the glory of the younger child
Pure scribble raised to high art

Scratched from out of the hues
Scratched as if whittling away waxen splinters
Scratched as if Jefferson himself
Were laying down the words of splendor
Test of freedom
Beliefs on truths
That changed the world
Acted as modern-day gospel
Retold take of The Fisherman
Ideals to live by
Ideas to empower generations to treat one another
As brethren under a blanket of blue pigment
Broad American sky
Broad American landscape
Green pigments
Beds of grasses fields and forests
Mixed dollops of reds yellows browns purples
At times paste raised and thick
At times scratch has reaches down to paper
Now to tell a story of the wonders of the Northwest
Streets of Seattle
Waters of Puget Sound
Peaks of Ranier Olympia Baker
Folks of the neighborhoods
Teams families classes playgrounds
Offices hospitals factories loading docks
Day care centers nursing homes
Universities high schools night schools
Houses on the hill
Rains descending on the valley
Broad bright sun
Rises and sets
Life itself

Sal chose crayons
His instrument of choice
Waxed color on paper
Instrument of Youth
Surfaces coated thick
Pigments coating unevenly
Pure blankets mostly
Although periodic breaks
To show the freedom of the young child
Pure scribble raised to high art


For Sketches
Denis J. Kelly
June 13, 2012