by D Shapiro
1982 in Bali:
Green leaves, flat, pointed,
Too soft, like bamboo fingers
of Legong dancer
DHS Writings
WHIMSY (Bali , 1982)
by D Shapiro with comments by J Shapiro
You silly
Co-created phantom
Let us dance together
Under a canopy of candy clouds soft white
Who I Hug When I Hug Johanna
by D Shapiro
In the dream she is wearing a backpack,
proud bangs, reddish brown toned,
curly ringlets and waves cascade long over her shoulders.
A yellow shawl, long jean covered legs.
I know the eyes, the chin a little down and angled, the
eyes looking up, shy, yes, but blue sky joy.
I stroke that hair and kiss those eyes.
The Dance – a Poem with Commentary
by D. Shapiro
sweat streaming off smiling faces
She, reddish hair, swinging over brown eyes,
coyishly returning to greet
I, boyishly laughing, throwing my arms
high, spinning faster;
Naciketas and the Wisdom of Control
Johanna’s comment: I’ve always liked this story, especially since it is written by the master of control! It shows how humility is a beautiful virtue even in the most self-assured.
Shopping List – Chinese linked verse
by D Shapiro
As we do every few weeks, Johanna makes a shopping list and I go shopping. On this day, there was something about her request for soups that struck me…..
Medical Humanities with Linked Haiku
by Roland Ho and D Shapiro
The process — through Haiku — of creating an endowed chair in Medical Humanities in honor of Johanna Shapiro at UCI.
A Sacred Space
Water still tranquil
Clouds hide the brilliant moon
Winds will blow, again clear.
More linked Haiku by Roland Ho and D Shapiro
The moons clarity
Reflected In the still pond
Frogs all sing as one.
Visit to the Radiologist
Johanna Shapiro, PhD
It’s like getting ready for a first date
only different
Then I chose high heels
hoping for a sexy sway
Now I put on sensible shoes
to appear a person of substance
who deserves to live
Then I researched football
and other sports I knew boys liked
so I’d seem smart
but not as smart as they were
Home, Children at Play
by D Shapiro
A white castle, southern style
brick-strong holds me
In its warmth, hands firm,
the grasp secure
Tall oak trees, with acorns yielding
to red toy wagons’ playfulness and squirrels’ hunger
Leaves so tiny each spring a child’s
hands eagerly tough, a smell so sweet to the eye