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UNFURLING MARIETTA PATRICIA LEIS

Be marked as present

Poem Index Living................................................15 Familiar.............................................17 Artist................................................18 Repetitions.......................................21 Safety................................................22 Sunshine...........................................22 Languish...........................................23 Pandemic Grocery Shopping...........24 Memories.........................................27 Unafraid...........................................29 Night................................................31 Being known....................................35 Bathing in the Woods......................37 Sleepy..............................................38 Making Peace..................................39 Doors...............................................40 i. (Poetry...) .....................................44 ii.(Rain...) ........................................44 iii.(Inhale...) .....................................45 iv.(The Clouds...) .............................45 Missed .............................................46 Sun & Moon.....................................47 Pain..................................................49 White Out.........................................51 Grateful............................................53

Time in a Covid 19 World..................54 Tea Time............................................56 Do I belong?......................................57 Half Moon..........................................59 Erased................................................60 Silence...............................................64 Caring................................................65 Homesick..........................................67 Fatigue..............................................69 A Gift.................................................71 Crazy Girl...........................................73 Calendars...........................................74 Untitled (The Light...) .......................77 Communication..................................79 A Cuppa.............................................81 Stay In Place......................................83 Untitled (Sometimes...) ....................84 Untitled (Approach...) ......................85 Studio 2020.......................................87 Undertow...........................................89 Interminable.......................................93 Reality................................................94 Unfinished..........................................95 The Beginning...................................97 Winter................................................99

INTRODUCTION Waxing and Waning Like many, I was not calibrated for the Covid Pandemic in 2020. For me, it unfurled childhood memories of polio anxiety. During the ensuing 3 years I have experienced isolation and now the ‘tip toeing out’ back into “normal life.” That journey has evoked the resulting poems – reflections of my recent life and recalled experiences. These writings are the harvest of a back-of-thestove soup –– conjured thoughts revealing my internal landscape. Marietta Patricia Leis 2022 Writer in Residence, Fairhope Center for the Writing Arts

UNFURLING

Living Keep your eyes open don’t look, see don’t hear, listen Inhale, touch and taste this life not the monumental but this moment here, now Pick the flower, pet the cat, watch the bird. see the storm roll in and out feel the rain’s wetness Open your heart to love and sorrow to birth and death to knowing and not Life is the living of life that’s all and enough Live

Familiar Stay @ home Work from home All familiar to me The silence The stillness My life pattern Write my thoughts Paint my feelings My practice But difficult when virus dictates not me

Artist My Studio looks frozen Work not finished Exhibits not shipped Blank calendar

Repetitions Just when I thought I could not repeat the old chapters in my life Thinking I had grown, resolved and learned my past rears up again I didn’t see it coming It looked different at first glance My desire for new paths was so great signs were ignored So here I am again do I lie down in the familiar waters Or can I power stroke beyond the turbulence and find a new shore

Safety Love makes me vulnerable feeling lonely and unsafe When our love could be so much easier if you trusted

Sunshine The sun continues to shine warmly But the nights are cold without you

Languish I lay here spent from the 100 degree day and the storm that furiously flew through Lacking ambition today lingers until night Hoping to sleep soon as I must awake at dawn for pain ministrations Maybe I languish for you?

Pandemic Grocery Shopping I grocery shop by computer now scanning down the pictures and lists to see what is available, or sold out Trying not to buy the most seductive items and stick to my list of what I need even though the craving to sooth is calling Clicking the right boxes with the correct item amount or pound and surprising myself when twenty bananas arrive Skipping and sliding through the process but sorely miss seeing the real food smelling and touching its ripeness

Feeling really bad that I can’t find the tip box to click as I know the shopper is taking risks for me It’s a bit of a shock as the numbers add up making it hard to be frugal when you can’t compare the shelves’ little white price tabs Setting aside time the next day for the ‘no-contact’ delivery that must be quarantined wiped down, washed and put away Ah but, the enormous relief and satisfaction of having the refrigerator and cupboard full again thankful I will eat another day

Memories Remembering past days when travel and work were familiar my schedule known Thinking of things gone daydreaming pictures of my life before unnoticed then Flashes of snippets when things moved in an expected pattern with people I touched Years past and yesterday both vivid in my mind as though I’m calling a past life into now Put away the memories in yesteryears toy box see by looking around what today brings Enough of living then when it is no more

Unafraid So far away in darkness gloom with few protectors But in God’s room

Night Water rippling in the silencing dusk quieting our day’s work Soothing the bright colors fading into yesterdays allowing for new thoughts and ways Light falling, faltering but not forgotten as we move into darkness

Being Known The magic of someone knowing you is salve to a wound that starts with the first entry into the world A look, a word, a touch at the exact right moment Eyes locking, steps in unison, pinkies entwined, Words over-lapping Shared kisses and loneliness forgotten

Bathing in the Woods Washing stress away Walking and breathing Resting against a tree Sitting on the grass Winds whispering sweet nothings In my stilled ear Me falling deeply in love with the embrace of nature

Sleepy White nights mixed up days thrown off balance in a haze

Making Peace World weary I hope not There are always the surprises The unexpected A child's laughter to lighten the moment of a cynical thought and bring promise to the symphony that plays on

Doors i. Open, close. Pass through. Bar shut, shut out. Protecting me. Letting in, Keeping out. Solitude, violation. Open, opening. Close, closing. Risking, Closing, Wedged.

ii. Don’t open doors for me. I can throw them open if I want. I have. Sometimes just to prove I can. Don’t open doors for me. I’ll hold the door open for you. But, After I’ve passed through.

ii.

Poetry is as a dance choreographed

Rain as soft as a gentle tap on my shoulders by a beloved Soothing in the harsh light of a world’s disarray

iii. Inhale, touch and taste this life

Not the monumental but this moment Here, now

iv. The clouds wrap around me

The breeze flutters it's warmth Rain momentarily dampens everything except my high spirits

Missed Someone to share the news captions with A glass of wine toasted An energetic granddaughter to mutually pick up, put to bed, get a kiss from And, oh God, a person to sorely miss if he is not here to my end

Sun & Moon The sun dips slowly behind the horizon the moon then rises gently in the darkness The Universe provides us with just the right light that we need to find our way

Pain i. Pain is an unbidden foreigner in my life Seemingly snuck up to me when I was too busy to notice the disruption it would cause A pesky thing that refuses to moderate or take time out causing me untold grief but not surrender

ii. I’ve never made friends with you I’ve tolerated your tantrums with no amount of patience making me an unpleasant place for you to reside Why isn’t there an eviction clause to force you to leave when you cause havoc with your presence and are not wanted Anyone that suggests I should be kinder to you can always unburden me and invite you to their willing residence

White Out All white The roof tops, lake, ground, trees No horizon lines It is pure, untouched and clean The monochrome rests my eyes From bright color assaults I long for nothing more but this peaceful lull that color would interrupt

Grateful It weighs on me heavily this life of ours Like a glacier steadily thundering down gathering all the rocks in it's path As does life bundle up all the woes to take along on our backs and weather somehow Year following year, hour after hour we move on, holding up readying for more The sun that sometimes glows on our days raises our spirits up to a joyful place But those moments are simply there to sustain us over the perilous times There need not be a musical crescendo nor an ecstatic ending, but there is a life lived If I had missed a moment of this life with it's sometime sorrow what a loss that would have been Not to have experienced what life offers, unthinkable I’m grateful for it all 53

Time in a COVID 19 World endless, stretched, condensed all at the same time when an experience of five months ago seems like yesterday and since I last saw my granddaughter seems like five years ago no delineation, no marks structure gone amok how does the garbage need to be taken out didn’t I just do that and the laundry basket is filled again it’s a more primal time requiring living in a different way paying great attention to the light and dark of night and day to make sense of my life just now

in my inactivated state I do notice the subtle changes of the skies the colors and the light and the darkness causing me a different connection to time my place in the world becomes interdependent with the earth’s cycles not a clock or imposed schedule of penciled calendar dates I wake and sleep I see the days and nights the sun and the moon and stars releasing my fears embracing the reality of now

Tea Time A cup of tea in a Japanese bowl of ceramic beauty held by both hands savoring the warmth comforted I sip

Do I Belong? Is there a place for me? A room where I can access you? Do I belong as a part of us? Am I a citizen in your country? Together, together, connected but free You and me

Half Moon I sit on the front patio wondering gladly at nature’s dusk eating my vegetable and drinking wine The half moon smiles down upon me and I realize like the moon my other half is absent …and missed

Erased I’m feeling erased with Covid-19 work done then voided In my 82nd year this is not a small deal This was to be a culmination of my life’s work A time of legacy prepping for death But how was I to know that death would appear with the face of virus suddenly and without warning or clue

How rude-impertinent uncivilized, disrespectful It angers me greatly And yet, lessons never cease For just when I felt completion all the boxes checked off responsible, adult at last Humbled and laughing I yield It’s always been this way why different in the waning years Life begins and ends with a chuckle But I live, I live now and appreciate the irony

Silence Shhh… Silence Stop talking Be still I can't listen further I tune out I don't hear more The silence in my mind is what is real for me

Caring Caring deeply requires me to really see my fellow inhabitants on planet Earth Not only the people but the air, the trees, the water all that surrounds me When the wellbeing of everything is apparent and important it will lift my caring self to even care about me

Homesick I’m homesick because I don’t feel like I have a heart-home A place comfortably lived-in where I’m truly known Where there is connection to people and hearth I need a place for my heart to reside There is a longing for my heart-home

Fatigue I don’t have it in me to write a love poem The drama is just not there anymore The sentiment is somewhat available but not to the extent that I'd miss my coffee or my nap or my work or forfeit a good gab with a girlfriend or a hug from the grandchild I simply can't dredge up the emotions to make the tale interesting. It would be a mundane effort which would suit my wishes for an easy lackluster of effortless romance. Certainly not one fraught with fear, anxiety, angst, breathlessness and all the rest that saps my dwindling energy No no, not for me. Ok I want cuddles, a kiss, holding of hands help with grocery shopping, help with luggage while traveling.

A Gift This land endures It’s secret withheld Smiling shyly with restraint

Crazy Girl Crazy girl you are a stupid girl no one taught you better no one taught you at all where is your core where is your center where do you stand Learn better teach yourself be your momma, your daddy, your sister your brother, your friend

Calendars I’m throwing out all my 2020 calendars good riddance to the useless things January and February were helpful reminders of deadlines and adventures But that last week in February has foreboding erasures and scratched out marks The marker pen starts to make hay in March redacting with bold black Even the Granddaughter’s dates to visit are obscured and never happened The scheduled exhibits with dates all year fall like pick up sticks Around May Zoom meetings and visits start to dominate the boxes landscape

In June I valiantly created a schedule of exercise, work and movies to stream But my failure to normalcy and sanity are evident in blank September I must have stopped regarding the calendar because Thanksgiving hit me with shock Calendars for desk and studio are usually bought in July to secure the next year But September slid by without a calendar purchase and the red, green and blue markers sat still The New Year coasts in tomorrow with hope and patience but without a calendar

The light peering through the skies illuminating our solitude

Communication My art isn’t completed without the viewer participating where is the dialogue alone in my studio Yes, of course I make art to express my ideas, concerns and feelings but not just for me No, I am saying something putting it out there for discussion as I would speaking over coffee Of course, a viewer might not agree with me my abstract thoughts may not suit their sensibility But a friend would listen would consider my ideas even disagreeing a dialogue would ensue Art is communication it is not complete without the viewer participating So the work feels lonely abandoned and sad sitting on studio walls with no one to speak to 79

A Cuppa I miss being back in the West Village drinking the sole cup of coffee that lasted into the early morning in places that indulged us young people who had urgent things to discuss and debate The meaning of life was the top priority to resolve but then there was also the state of the world and our desires and dreams to make the necessary changes I miss the extravagance of time that I felt then in the big city garnering my education from all its many resources We talked and argued sometimes staring up at the indoor cigarette-laden clouds quietly just pausing in our wishing and thinking Our hands holding onto that comforting cup with now cold coffee never solving the problems but still in wonder asking the questions

Stay-in-Place Living together isolating alone is as strange as the world the virus has brought The distance between us grows daily without consoling words or touch or notice We weather our risks of life, mind and work in our solo cocoons The loneliness and fears that I’ve always kept at bay envelop me now But I’ll choose to weather the sadness embracing it as my longtime companion

Sometimes I move along observing everything in slow-time allowing my eyes and heart to calibrate

Approach the edge Lift the veil to see if the fall warrants the curiosity

Studio 2020 Sunlit and ready Linda Ronstadt singing her talent oozing over my space Outside quiet and still with spring tentative and virus stirring amongst the wind Me, lackadaisical with exhibits canceled and deadlines obscured and inactivity seductive By habit I’m here years of discipline and passion and purpose quelled but not forgotten I pick up brush I smell the paint I feel the wood and my hand responds Another afternoon passes with focus and work gratefully my art has saved my spirit again Maybe contributing also to some peace for a world in need and silence to my fears 87

Undertow With my shoes shunned I shuffle through the warm sand Of my childhood memories Feeling the sand And remembering it embracing my toes The sand ripples as I move through it My feet coming home to a place gone But within

Interminable It’s going on and on no stop-point in sight the temporary not so anymore A new strategy must be planned waiting it out is over action is required Who shall I be now what could I be doing how will I do that what do I feel It’s a new game that isn’t a game a new time demanding a different life My job is creativity so I will author my new reality soon...

Reality Is it gone, the Covid Are we cured of it’s inconvenience Has it gone somewhere else It may be underground with all who succumbed I don’t see it anymore nor hear of it’s lament We can come out now and also make believe

Unfinished The story goes on with the last chapter far from being written as we continue our love affair Needing that sinew, the weaving together while laughing at the absurdity of trying to complete what is still being written

The Beginning Why did it take me till the end of my life to get a glimmer of the untold story All the nuances, the realness of my imperfectness. To accept what was for so long unacceptable To leave alone what needs to be left behind and to look forward in ways previously not understood To truly feel the rightness of life, the history of being in this moment of just what it is ...life

Winter Yesterday I was sleeping but decided to come back to life Energy still smolders inside me needing to be lit I will stay for a while more And when I am spent I will rest

Marietta Patricia Leis is an internationally exhibiting interdisciplinary artist and poet based in Santa Fe, New Mexico. Her reductive, expressive visual practice is shaped out of experiments in material process and takes inspiration from natural forms, sense of place, and the interior self. Leis’ poetry and writing has been published and is read worldwide, and often takes the form of free verse poems and haiku. These personal writings reflect her meditations on the internal and external landscape.

In Gratitude: Stefan Jennings Batista photographer and designer David Vogel my husband for his unwavering support Fairhope Center of the Writing Arts for generously hosting me as Writer in Residence

Marietta’s books of poetry: Unfurling, Pausing and Engrained can be found at Amazon.com The images in this book are adapted from Leis’ original painting, drawing & sculpture www.mariettaleis.com