Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas
and a Wonderful New Year, Everyone!
Song
When fire flares forth
and from the chimney, smoke
I hear the song
of the fallen oak
its fibres grey with ashen coat
it gives to us
from its glowing throat
a whisper, a breath - words of light
what song to sing on Christmas night!
by Genevieve Krueger
Published in 1994 Chupa Rosa Calendar Diary
Celebrating the Poetic Gifts of Gen Krueger
For our last blog for the year 2015, we decided to revisit the poetry and life of Genevieve Krueger. Village Poets just owe her so much! Dorothy Skiles organized a “Chuparosa Writers ” evening in memory of Gen on Thursday, December 3, 2015 at her Sunland home. The purpose of the gathering was to read some of Gen’s poetry, and some written about her, as well as share special memories and stories about Gen that have inspired poets and made them laugh...
Below you will find a selection of poems as well as photos from the Chuparosa Writers' event by Bill Skiles. 
Dorothy Skiles talks about Gen Krueger.
Just Outside Jerusalem
Dedicated to the memory of Gen Krueger, 1929-2015,
mentor and facilitator of the Chuparosa Writers, Tujunga, California
My hill rises with the sun,
A day’s weariness
Envelopes me like a shroud.
Every Thursday evening
I walk down the street
To the writers workshop
Just outside Jerusalem.
I knock at the door, my shroud
Of weariness falls away,
And I’m resurrected again.
For a few hours, I’m a rider
On the wings of a poem.
by Dorothy Skiles
Rev. Dec. 3, 2015
All Rights Reserved 2015 by D. Skiles
Grandma Laureate
To honor you
I want to remember you
Your sweetness
Your uniqueness
Humble and wise
Creative and strong
Your noble Nordic spirit
Quietly expressed patience and love
Your earthy endearing heart
Warmly engaging in
conversations and smiles
Your love of literature
Your deeper love of family and friends
Steadfast and amaranthine
The embodiment of teacher and learner
An example of consistent
Positivity and optimism
Despite every challenge put before you
I love you
I miss you
I just want
To honor you
(c) 2015 by Amber
(Untitled)
Like a hole punched
Through my sturdy wall
Behind a hanging canvas
I tucked away the crater of your absence
5 days bereavement
Is American Grief
Coffee needs pouring
Stocks need selling
Minds need molding
The commute never dies
But at a red light
There is a breath
Between songs
There is a space
At the flip of a lightswitch
Blindness exists
Suddenly loss
Is here unannounced
And I don’t know
How I go
Day to Day
Yesterday your twin key
Unused on my busy ring
Slipped into my front door lock
My adult hand
Can’t turn this knob
This finite door is closed
The key now unlocks
Only your memory
Jenny Novak 12/3/15
Maja Trochimczyk reads Gen Krueger's "Color is What You Make It"
You can read more poems by Gen Krueger on our previous blog, from September 2015:
Mira Mataric reads her poem, Hymn to Motherhood.
Hymn to Motherhood
I am watching you, my daughter,
motherhood has shaped, rounded
and completed you as a woman.
Your eyes turned downy, soft with tenderness,
your voice croons a lullaby,
body and entire being ripened
turning your lap into a nest.
Your breast floods with the dew of life
hands ready to hold, feed, and caress.
Terms of endearment and nursery rhymes
murmuring, your ear attuned
to the child's soft cry,
that helpless call in the language
only a mother can understand,
the Morse code of intimacy,
carried through the umbilical cord
that never breaks
between a mother and her child.
With humanity,
motherhood has connected you
and to me returned.
I am watching you, my daughter,
with love and pride,
not sure whether it is you or I,
that woman experiencing motherhood
for the first time and all over again.
That daughter we are raising now
as one woman
is that you, my child,
my discovery and masterpiece,
or a new life born in continuation
of humankind
through the most powerful force -
Love.
(c) by Mirjana N. Radovanov Mataric