Sharon Lia Robinson

Author Archive for Sharon Lia Robinson

Simone the Cat (Stories and Poems For Children)

By Sharon Lia Robinson · Comments (2)

Thursday, June 8th, 2017

I have written several collections of stories and poems for young children, inspired by my work as a nanny, by my cats, Simon and Simone, and by my imagination. I hope that you enjoy the following excerpts. I welcome your comments and ideas.

A Day Indoors
(written March 23, 2008)

we stayed indoors

the day of the storm

we sat by the fire

we were nice and warm

she didn’t hear the wind

she didn’t hear the rain

she slept at my feet

she never heard the sleet

my little cat

Simone fast asleep.

As A Child
(written May, 2005).

at first I did not know
the names of trees
I loved the wind
the garden breeze
watched and waved
to the trains passing by
while I watered
peach and plum tree
the small child pond
the West Los Angeles sun
our home
on Ashby Lane

Meow Meow
(written February 2, 2009)

at teatime we chat
about our cats
Sam will hide
when a guest appears
who knows why
its not real clear
while Claire
will simply climb upon
any lap that comes along
Nini prances
for a song
performing solo
for one or for a throng
yet my favorite cat
is sweet Simone
because she lives with me
content at home.

I wrote Imagine That! (a collection of stories and poems for young children) during the summer of 1987, when I was a live-in nanny for two toddlers, in Amherst, Massachusetts. Here are some excerpts.

Because of You

because of you
I feel so good
when we go for a walk
in our neighborhood

or take a ride
to a sandy beach
or watch the stars
before it’s time to sleep

because of you
I love to play
inside the house
on a rainy day

because of you
I am beginning to see
that I can be happy
by simply being me.

The Owie

today I hurt my knee
when I was stung
by a bee

mommy kissed me
and she also
kissed my knee

later, she put on a band-aid
and she gave me a glass of fresh lemonade
I hope I never get stung
again by a bee
and so does my knee.

Mr. Cat

Mr. Cat is very very fat

Mr. Cat is very very furry

His fur is white and brown

In fact, he is not our cat

He belongs to our neighbor, May
Who lives across the way.

When he comes over to visit, we play

And I always wish he would stay.

The Searchlight

Dancing across the sky at night

The rays of a long white searchlight

What is it looking for?

What is it trying to see?

I can see the searchlight

Do you think that it can see me?

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Categories : Children's Literature, Selected Poetry

Ms. Lily Sabina Fairweather

By Sharon Lia Robinson · Comments (7)

Monday, May 29th, 2017

In this story I share my experience with a transsexual friend and how I feel she was helped in knowing of Meher Baba.

“Yvonne: Your lines, your lines, your coloring book lines. What happens if I scribble, if I scribble, if I scribble, if the girl’s face is green and her eyes purple?” (From Sculpture Lessons, my experimental play, 1974).

In 1973, at the Venice, California Women’s Center, I saw a notice inviting people to a meeting of the Los Angeles Feminist Theatre. I arranged to get a ride from my Santa Monica apartment to the home of Sarah and Michael Sappington-Kuhn.

Sara had written a play, with the hope that she could present a performance at the November, 1973 opening of the Los Angeles Women’s Building, the innovative downtown cultural center for the arts. The meeting was to gather a group of people to participate in the play.

I had recently moved back to Santa Monica, California from Staten Island, New York, where I had attended Richmond College; my 1974 Bachelor of Arts degree a focus on women’s studies.

Now, in my small Santa Monica apartment, I was writing my first experimental play, Sculpture Lessons.

At the Los Angeles Feminist Theatre meeting that evening, I was drawn to a very unusual-looking person who was sitting on the living room floor.

He introduced himself to the group as being Albert Michael Weber, and then explained his appearance. He spoke in his own words, quoted from books, and also gave us printed flyers; a collage of glitter, hand-painted footnotes, drawings and typed messages.

He shared with us that he was, in anthropological terms, “the third sex, the shaman.” He said he preferred to be called Ms. Lily Sabina Fairweather, the name of the maid in Thornton Wilder’s play, The Skin of our Teeth.

That evening, “Sabina” was dressed in costume – including a beautiful black lace top, velvet blue slacks, women’s shoes and stockings. “She” wore make-up, colorful nail polish, and a large-brimmed straw Mexican hat.

“Her” appearance was intriguing to me, since I was also, for very different psychological reasons, “different.” Even in this culturally open theatre atmosphere, Sabina’s appearance was noticed.

As I became friends with Sabina, I learned more about her background. Sabina had grown up in Detroit, Michigan. Her mother was a dancer and dance teacher. From an early age, Sabina, born a physical boy, had yearned to dress as a girl. He wanted to be a she.

She had attended Wayne State University where she had studied anthropology. In her studies, she had found evidence of third sex gender roles and shamans. Somewhere along the way, Sabina had traveled to Eugene, Oregon to meet and study with biologist Dr. Raymond Peat.

     Sabina’s journey was to express herself, her essence, carrying placards along the Venice, California boardwalk, making collage art and flyers, attending transsexual support groups, shopping in thrift stores and finding friends.

      On her bicycle, Sabina often road into West Los Angeles, exploring the university area.

She often quoted Dr. Ray Peat, William Blake, Mircea Eliade, Carl Jung, Wilhelm Reich, Elizabeth Gould Davis, Alexandro Jodorowsky, Robert Graves and others.

In 1976, Filis Frederick from the Los Angeles Meher Baba Center showed an introductory film of Meher Baba, and answered questions in Santa Monica, at The Church in Ocean Park. The church was an open-minded place where diverse community groups could give presentations on Sunday evenings.

I recall being attracted to the picturesque scenery of India. Sabina was fascinated with counter culture films, holograms, and the vision of each person’s uniqueness.

After that initial encounter, Sabina found her way to the Meher Baba Center, which was then located in West Los Angeles. There, she was given her copy of the Discourses, written by Meher Baba.

In the Discourses and other writings from Meher Baba, she underlined and starred certain passages she liked that gave her courage, support and validation. She would read some of those passages aloud to me and other friends.

I recall that Sabina seemed to connect the mystical writings of William Blake with the teachings of Meher Baba.

    The noteworthy sentence by William Blake, “Man in the Resurrection changes his Sexual Garments at will,” also gave my friend Sabina much needed courage and comfort.

     However, her unconventional dress, outsider personality, and lack of a solid support system soon thereafter led to her leaving the Los Angeles area.

     Eventually, I learned that Sabina had died of a brain tumor at her home in the southeast United States, surrounded by her paper collage and assemblages, wine bottles, glitter, and the lovely large size thrift store costumes and dresses.

     Today, we have well-known transsexuals, such as Chaz Bono (formerly Chastity Bono), and more openness to gender diversity in many ways. In 1976, there was only Ms. Lily Sabina Fairweather, fledgling support groups and a distant rainbow flag.

I am grateful that when she lived, Ms. Lily Sabina Fairweather was able to know of Meher Baba, that His words gave her comfort and inspiration, and that Meher Baba was able to convey His message to her.

(Written on February 2, 2014)

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Categories : Meher Baba In My Life

Breath Unfolds Sky

By Sharon Lia Robinson · Comments (0)

Tuesday, May 9th, 2017

breath unfolds sky
this early morning
of my life
as I walk
safely to the market
for bread, olives and goat cheese
your presence
a loving benediction.

Notes for the poem
(Reprinted from the Glossary of The Unvarnished Gospels, translated from the original Greek by Andy Gaus)

“Spirit (pneuma). This word, which contains an audible puff of air, is the regular word for “breath,” and can even mean “wind,” as in John 3:8. The notion of spirit as breath and breath as spirit links Christianity to such other major world religions as Hinduism and Buddhism, and is reflected in modern English by expressions like “breathing life into an enterprise.”

In this translation, “breath” and “spirit” are both used freely as the context of each passage may suggest, but in Greek the two are always one.”

When I (Sharon Lia Robinson) wrote the poem Breath Unfolds Sky I did not know about the above reference from The Unvarnished Gospels.

I have written several other related poems. They are Breath Lights the Sky and Earth Unfolds Sky. I welcome your comments and inquiries.

Notes were added to the poem Breath Lights the Sky, in summer, 2011, by Sharon Lia Robinson.

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Categories : Meher Baba In My Life, Selected Poetry

Mirage

By Sharon Lia Robinson · Comments (0)

Friday, April 7th, 2017

these clouds want me to be happy
especially in spring
when you call unexpectedly
at my doorstep
or at the rain-splattered window

or in the solo violin of remembrance
at my brother’s music class
and in the tambourine
as I wander these remote desert roads
clouds call to me

a rainbow direction
a confident smile
a mark of your Love
or sometimes hearing your call
even when I don’t listen

even in disruption or confusion
even in the still of the night
a new dress rehearsal
or a mysterious view in the stars
a sense of stillness
in the sandbar

April 7, 2017

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Categories : Meher Baba In My Life, Selected Poetry

Fire Music

By Sharon Lia Robinson · Comments (0)

Wednesday, March 1st, 2017

in the clear water
there were no barriers
the stones her pathmark
she landed on her feet

traveling through time
in the desert sun
in the howling wind

she sang with the coyotes
with the ghosts
the shadows
the memories

that her loss
was buried
somewhere in creation
she knew

this too
the sand would allow her
buried in the source
to rise again

in the clear water
there are no stones
without a purpose
each precipice
marks a new beginning

in the clear water
I see your face
in the desert fire
a dwelling.

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Categories : Selected Poetry

Post Watch With Holly*

By Sharon Lia Robinson · Comments (0)

Thursday, January 26th, 2017

“how with this rage shall beauty hold a plea, whose action is no stronger than a flower” -William Shakespeare

today and in my memory
the outdoor sage blossoms
yet she needs no water
and there is very little sunshine
“drought resistant” my friend Jane tells me

while writing birthday thank you notes
I found myself floundering
remembering myself, a young child
given permission for writing
thank you birthday notes
holiday thank you greetings to my family

in the Jewish Children’s Home
while completely removed for weeks, months and years
denied visiting times
with some later exceptions and brief moments

I dance in this memory
in forgiveness and surreal connection

knowing that finished letters
now have a place
and a sense of recognition
through His love and Grace

knowing this now
that sometimes a poem
for family and friends enters my heart
and I may reach out to speak
and there are those who will see me.

January 26, 2017 
*Holly is a Bach Flower remedy.

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Categories : Meher Baba In My Life, Selected Poetry

A Friend Arrives

By Sharon Lia Robinson · Comments (2)

Thursday, December 22nd, 2016

ganesh

each day
 the wintry grey
 I follow the map
 of His will

a day of interruption
perception literary abduction 
yet sudden change removes obstruction

the grid off the grid 
His healing bid 
vision hidden within
 the change of the wind

December 18, 2016 Advent

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Categories : Meher Baba In My Life, Selected Poetry

Creating My Legacy

By Sharon Lia Robinson · Comments (0)

Monday, October 31st, 2016

Sharon’s Altar. Photo by Jane McKann.

My life experience has led me on the spiritual path of faith and self-acceptance. See the film memoir that I have produced, My Journey Toward Wholeness.

I feel that my poems, stories, films and art may inspire others. The psychological challenges that I experienced as a young woman (and my life search as an artist) may be necessary on the path toward finding one’s identity for certain individuals and our process of individuation.

There may be a clue in facing an emotional challenge that leads one on their path in life. I feel there will be and needs to be a place and a space for those of us in culture and society who may have emotional and spiritual sensitivity. There may be work for us in ways that are just now beginning to be charted or understood.

In my early twenties, I became aware of the work of Thomas Szasz, R. D. Laing, Rollo May, Carl Jung and Frantz Fanon. I was thus influenced to consider and to appreciate my creative gifts and uniqueness, even though the common assumption did not value them. There were communities at the time, led by R. D. Laing, Rollo May, and the followers of Carl Jung.

These communities attempted to address the need for a gentle unfoldment of the creative process, within the context of the meaning of a psychic break. These communities were very expensive. I chose my own way of healing and self-expression, as a poet and artist.

Perhaps now and in the future, what was formerly discarded or seen as needing correction will perhaps develop into an impressive aspect of the New Humanity that Meher Baba writes about in the Discourses. A transformation of values may be on the horizon.

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Categories : Meher Baba In My Life, The Unconventional Heroine

“pray work rest”

By Sharon Lia Robinson · Comments (0)

Monday, August 8th, 2016

pray work rest
dance dream
wear a scarf

because one loves God

be bold be meek
turn the other cheek
because one loves God

beg camp revamp
write a letter
get a postage stamp

write a tribute to Him
a mass a communion hymn
because one loves God

draw the water at the well
take a drop from the wishing well
don’t be afraid
if you tire for a spell

because one loves God

kiss the wound
you found
hear the holy sound
let His glory
in your heart resound

because you love God.

March 30, 2016

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Categories : Meher Baba In My Life, Selected Poetry

Inspiration

By Sharon Lia Robinson · Comments (1)

Friday, July 8th, 2016

with each breath
unite your heart
with heaven

with every step
without within
above below glow

June 5, 2015

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Categories : Meher Baba In My Life, Selected Poetry

Sculpture Lessons (My First Play)

By Sharon Lia Robinson · Comments (0)

Monday, June 20th, 2016

clay dance Sculpture 3
Claydance sculpture by Sharon Lia Robinson

I have written a collection of four experimental plays. These theatre collages reflect the search for love, self-acceptance and wholeness. I wrote the first play, Sculpture Lessons, while I was living in Los Angeles and Santa Monica, California, 1973-1974.

This experimental play is 31 pages, including production notes and ideas for stage direction and music improvisation.

Let me know if you would like to see the entire play in hard copy or online.

Here is an excerpt.

A young woman, in conflict with mainstream versions of acceptable social life, asserts her own way of living. Includes poetry, dialogue, and a Greek chorus. The play can also include music, video, song-poems, and dance.
A celebration of finding one’s authentic self and an example of my early literary voice.

Chorus: My spirit is cleansed, my body renewed, by this union with others in which I am me. No longer threatened by gurus or thieves, I can speak out because now I can listen.

Ina: Could it be that despite the complexities, the struggles, the death knolls, we grow, we struggle, we survive? We survive to continue to suffer and to laugh and to cry and to love. To be hated for what we are. To be loved for what we are mistaken for. And forever the fortune of time: the power to heal all wounds. The blessed gate of time through which we strive for eternal salvation.

(These theatre notes for Sculpture Lessons were originally written in May 26, 2014).

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Categories : The Unconventional Heroine

Breath Lights the Sky

By Sharon Lia Robinson · Comments (0)

Thursday, June 16th, 2016

breath lights the sky
cloud embraces moon
laughter unfolding purpose

breath lights the sky
sun unfolds moon
laughter embraces sky

cloud haunts the moon
breath lights the sky
your presence
always with me

cloud embraces moon
your presence
like laughter
through silence

breath lights the sky.

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Categories : Meher Baba In My Life, Selected Poetry

Tinto

By Sharon Lia Robinson · Comments (0)

Saturday, May 14th, 2016

in the fire of change
I find my lost colors

smoke of azul and rose
twisting into light blue
destiny of sky

where are you
if not in this fire
where are you
if not in this sun?

fragile and light
fragile yet strong

you sleep within these colors
you live within this sun

along borders of fragrant passage
you face the sun
you face the fire

the tree turns to ash
its limbs only a reminder
of the future creation

tinted in rose
painted in blue

in the fire of change
I see your light

in the final fire
a chant of repose
turning toward heaven.

San Miguel d’Allende, Spring, 1987.

Tinto means dyeing colors in Spanish. In Mexico, I wrote this poem after building a fire in an outdoor fire pit, heating a large tub of water, and then putting the colored dye and white t-shirt into the water. This poem is about transformation; an outward activity becomes a symbol of the inner journey. That is one possible interpretation.

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Categories : Meher Baba In My Life, Selected Poetry

Elijah!

By Sharon Lia Robinson · Comments (7)

Sunday, April 17th, 2016

The Prophet Elijah

last evening
Elijah the prophet
visited me

he arrived with
the sunset
on the early
spring wind

I poured burgundy
wine into the
turquoise clay goblet

we shared the wine
Elijah and me
we lit the candles
at my altar

when the wine
was all finished
I was ready for bed

Elijah asked me
if he could stay over
in the guest bedroom

where the cat Simone
sleeps on the high-up dresser

she jumps up there
from the bed
to see out the window

I have plenty
of extra blankets
and pillows

so Elijah was
my overnight guest
he sang me a lullabye.

A glass of wine is traditionally placed on the Passover Seder table for Elijah, and during the Seder the door is symbolically opened for him. This poem is my unconventional celebration and could take place any time; and is open to interpretation and imagination. There are many traditional and diverse ways to celebrate and to observe the holiday. In my opinion, one may add whatever is meaningful for them, to celebrate a holiday/holyday.

April 14, 2014, Passover

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Categories : Meher Baba In My Life, Selected Poetry

the dance

By Sharon Lia Robinson · Comments (0)

Tuesday, April 5th, 2016

the dance reaches out

through the body

the words reach out

from the paper,

from the hands, from the heart

when I take back

the mirror

I’ll be free

December 15, 1985
Somerville, Massachusetts

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Categories : Meher Baba In My Life, Selected Poetry

Unfurl

By Sharon Lia Robinson · Comments (0)

Monday, February 22nd, 2016

psychic swirl
love unfurls
release find peace

Hazelnut Tree, photo by Nate Malmgren

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Categories : Meher Baba In My Life, Selected Poetry

The Presence of Grace

By Sharon Lia Robinson · Comments (0)

Wednesday, February 10th, 2016

Helma’s Madonna, photo by Sue Cook

thank you Lord Meher Baba
for the gift of your presence

in my life
at the end of the day
when I have finished my writing

I am able to walk
to my local church
St. Mary Star of the Sea

where I may pray
in the side chapel
with a small group

or sit alone
in silence
in the sanctuary

where candles burn
before the holy altars

where I may
light a candle
in your love
oh Christ Divine

where I may find the answers
where I may get a sense of direction
immersion in your perfection

perhaps even take a note
of inspiration
to share with friends
about your healing

your gift of love
the mystery found in all places.

St. Mary Star of the Sea
February 10, 2016

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Categories : Meher Baba In My Life, Selected Poetry

Terumah*

By Sharon Lia Robinson · Comments (0)

Sunday, February 7th, 2016

in the sacred realm
art prayer identity

I long to keep
a holy covenant with God

within sound breath light
may I continue on the path
to feel God’s love

within the sound breath light 
of the sacred name
in all faiths times places

Amen.

*Hebrew for gift or offering

7 February, 2016

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Categories : Meher Baba In My Life, Selected Poetry

A Psalm

By Sharon Lia Robinson · Comments (0)

Wednesday, December 16th, 2015

the ecumenical queen
lives in a garden unseen

her secret prayers at twilight
psalms of holy delight

a new yet ancient
apostolic creed
in a castle of divine weed

kindness in thought word and deed
follow Him, believe.

December 16, 2015

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Categories : Meher Baba In My Life, Selected Poetry

In His Love

By Sharon Lia Robinson · Comments (0)

Monday, November 23rd, 2015

the Messianic Age
is our inheritance

even now
as I turn the page

knowing finding revealing
His presence
from age to age.

November 17, 2015

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Categories : Meher Baba In My Life, Selected Poetry

Inner Translation

By Sharon Lia Robinson · Comments (0)

Tuesday, October 13th, 2015

Notes on the purpose of my creative writing, art, dance and films.

I am speaking to the world as a creative outsider, revealing, translating my inner experiences and perceptions.

I need to honor my innovative understanding, rather than attempt to avoid completion. I have to follow my intuition.

My unique outsider perspective requires devotion, dedication, hard work. I approve of myself, I accept my gifts.

There are times when the mainstream world is impatient with me, yet I continue to create and to share my stories.

God is my inner translator.

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Categories : The Unconventional Heroine

A Labor Day Weekend Serenade

By Sharon Lia Robinson · Comments (0)

Saturday, September 5th, 2015

from the local consignment shop
 this lovely little cloth bag I just found

the clasp and the knob  
appear difficult at times 
to close

like your heart 
the Lord tells me

this other bag 
that you almost bought
 has a clasp
 that is easier to close

yet you were right
 to wait around the shop
 looking like a waif 
until I gave you the clue 
for this bag that is just for you

this bag with the lovely  
embroidered flower design
 you just bought
 also has a slightly discolored place
 you didn’t notice at first
 and so does your heart

the stain that I have cleansed
 for you

although the small consignment shop 
has no name
 the owner is not to blame

Lord Meher Baba
 I took your name 
all around town
 now I am tired 
and almost lame 
from all the walking

saying your name 
without a rosary
 talking to myself
 and some people see

the indifference 
the Divine Game

the house that was sold 
the barking dog 
the new owner who smiled  
and introduced his pet

the Lord smiles kindly 
we are not finished yet.
 
September 5, 2015

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Categories : Meher Baba In My Life, Selected Poetry

Taking Meher Baba’s name

By Sharon Lia Robinson · Comments (0)

Sunday, May 24th, 2015

Taking Meher Baba’s name for one half hour today, May 24, to commemorate His car accident in Prague, Oklahoma in 1952. The group in Prague, where He had the accident, invited Baba lovers to join in what is called Jap, taking His name for all or part of the hours of the accident on that day.

I found that at the beginning, I was going to stop, I seemed to be experiencing unpleasant and uneasy emotions.

However, I felt that were I to continue, there could be some surprise or a benefit to me as well, and perhaps some relief.

Then images and feelings more and more intensely manifested themselves within the center of my being. I felt the hurts from some people from the past, some that I had old disagreements with, and also with people who have disapproved of me. I had thought these old experiences had been previously resolved and released.

Then, I began to take Baba’s name with more ease and felt an inner peace.

Lastly, I remembered my cat, Simone, who passed on to Baba on April 2, 2015, during the Christian Maundy Thursday, one day before Good Friday. She had persevered although ill for several years, and her last day with me was a happy one, in the sunshine that is sometimes so rare here in the northwestern United States.

After the time of my taking Baba’s name ended, I felt that He wanted me to know I had a particular story to write about Simone. That my caregiving for her and my writing of my years with her is beneficial work for Baba.

I also felt that Baba was internally saying to me, that all suffering is not actually suffering, and that all the hurts and pain one lives through is more than we may perceive.

(As noted by Mahoo Shahriari, about Meher Baba’s accident in Prague, Oklahoma, “The date of this event was foretold by Baba many years earlier. At Harmon on Hudson, in 1932, Meher Baba gave Elizabeth Patterson a small pink wildflower and told her to always keep the flower and write down the date, that some day she would know the meaning. It wasn’t until years after the accident that Elizabeth discovered the flower He had given her that day, and written next to it in her Bible, the date, “May 24, 1932,” exactly 20 years to day that she would be driving the accident vehicle.”

I, Sharon, grew up in that town, which is now called Croton-on-Hudson.)

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Categories : Meher Baba In My Life

Begin

By Sharon Lia Robinson · Comments (0)

Saturday, May 9th, 2015

happily letting go
of an ancient identity
that no longer serves

my heart-felt gift
the very day
I was born

a form a creed a place
time and Divine Presence
may easily erase

no longer the plan
with new sparkle
and Grace
today
I am who I am

(“Let the love that was once a fire remain an ember.” Cole Porter, Begin the Beguine)

9 May 2015

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Categories : Meher Baba In My Life, Selected Poetry

By Sharon Lia Robinson · Comments (0)

Monday, March 30th, 2015

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Categories : The Unconventional Heroine

Spirit of Grace

By Sharon Lia Robinson · Comments (0)

Friday, February 20th, 2015

the Divine Beloved’s gift
arrived in the mail today

music in the northwest mist
icons in the rain

I rest and do the best I can
through God’s will for me

(The gift of music from a friend is
“Hymns Of The Pearl,”
songs by the Gnostic meditation group
in Carlsbad, California).

March 11, 2013

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Categories : Meher Baba In My Life, Selected Poetry

Dream Child, An Experimental Play (Excerpt)

By Sharon Lia Robinson · Comments (0)

Wednesday, February 11th, 2015

The experimental play I have written, Dream Child,
opens with Dream Child, a homeless musician,
playing acoustic guitar and singing this song.

Living on the Street
song poem by Sharon Lia Robinson

living on the street
sleeping on the beach
waking up to pray
in a stranger’s garden

what about the guy
on the other side of that fence
he won’t let me in
he only asks
too many questions

he doesn’t want my answers
he doesn’t like my message
I am I am I am
living (on the street)

for the sake of love
living in the name of love
living for the way
the way of love

he doesn’t want my message
he won’t trust the work
he can hear me calling
from the other side of whim

yes I’m living for the sake of love
on the other side of whim
divine high
divine time
divine whim

all of life
is a gift
loving our Creator
love God love.

Many of my writings portray unconventional, outsider women who search for love and fulfillment. All of these plays and stories are now dedicated to Meher Baba, whose love and teachings help me to accept my “otherness,” giving me insights and a sense of self-acceptance.

I think that in many ways, I was seeking to portray those of us who desire love as a shelter against the coldness, the social isolation of our being different, to heal the sense of alienation.

My experimental play, Dream Child is a series of song poems and dialogue, dance and music with film possibilities. A director, a producer, or anyone who may be interested in the potential of this play – please let me know and I can send you a copy.

The woman in the play, alone, is searching for a companion, perhaps as mask for an unknown, silent spiritual yearning, an inner depth, unfathomable.

I received one very special comment during the discussion after a reading of Dream Child in summer, 2011. An actor who liked the play said I might be interested in the writing of Charles Mee. This led me to the website of Charles Mee, who likes to call his plays collages.

On his website, Chuck Mee writes, “ I like plays that are not too neat, too finished, too presentable. My plays are broken, jagged, filled with sharp edges, filled with things that take sudden turns, careen into each other, smash up, veer off in sickening turns. That feels good to me. It feels like my life. It feels like the world.
And then I like to put this—with some sense of struggle remaining—into a classical form, a Greek form, or a beautiful dance theatre piece, or some other effort at civilization.” (Charles Mee)

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Categories : Meher Baba In My Life, The Unconventional Heroine

Remembrance For An Unknown Artist

By Sharon Lia Robinson · Comments (0)

Sunday, February 8th, 2015

(Max Reif has written a poem called, “To A Visionary Whose Name I’ll Never Know.” His poem is a remembrance of an unknown woman, perhaps an angel, who smiled at him when he was feeling alone in New York City. His story prompted me to write this one).

During the years I lived in Staten Island, New York, I often traveled into Manhattan to visit my poet friend, David or to go to a play or to the library or a museum.

One day, I was lucky to find a seat, close to the front of the bus during a very busy afternoon in downtown Manhattan. As usual, I felt a profound sense of loneliness and alienation. I was from a small town, Croton-on-Hudson, New York, and I was used to being greeted by people I knew in the town. Here, no one smiled or looked at one another. I decided to break the mold.

Here was my chance to be different, to be unique, to express myself. Yet everyone looked so distant, so unfriendly. I retreated into my fantasy lover, in my imagination.

In the midst of such a mixture of reflections, a man entered the bus, stood on the aisle briefly and then soon found an available corner of a crowded seat, facing diagonally across from me.

He had a very large and bulky looking black artist’s portfolio. I don’t recall too much about him except that he had very dark hair and was perhaps also all dressed in black. He had to hold the large portfolio close to him, so that others could board the bus.

I felt sympathy for the man, because he looked so miserable and alone. I imagined he had been rejected for an art sale, or perhaps from a job as an artist. I smiled at the man. He seemed to ignore me.

I felt somewhat lost myself, yet thought again of a friend and my upcoming museum visit. Some minutes went by. From time to time, I would glance at the unhappy looking artist, smiling at him and hoping he would find a better chance in life and in art. I gave up the hope, the attachment that he might smile back at me.

Lost in thought, I was amazed when the dejected looking artist, just before I was to exit the bus, stretched out his hand, looked at me with gratitude, and simply said, in a kind way, “Thank you… thank you for your smile, for your kindness.”

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Categories : Meher Baba In My Life, The Unconventional Heroine

Reflections for My Stories

By Sharon Lia Robinson · Comments (0)

Friday, January 16th, 2015

Themes and Commentary

I have written a collection of stories, journals and memoir; with themes that relate to the outsider and the search for social acceptance. Being in some ways outside the margins, my work as a poet and fiction writer may focus on people outside mainstream American culture.

I believe that the commentaries I am sharing relate to emergence and transformation in my life and give the added spiritual dimension, addressing life path issues, learning from experience, karma and a historical record of one woman’s life and work.

In the 1970’s, I was a young, full-figured Jewish woman, a poet finding my way in America. I was earnestly seeking connection, meaning and authenticity for my life, and a sense of belonging. For various reasons, I did not find social acceptance (ie…dates, attractive, accessible clothing) or social approval in the realm of the mainstream milieu.

My friends and companions were often other outsiders. I was searching within and meeting other outsiders; to find my sense of self. This search was my way to creatively explore and to find a sense of wholeness.

In 1974, I became active in the fat women’s liberation movement for size acceptance. I soon began writing short stories and poems to bring to light the experience of living as a full-figured woman in America. During that time, I also began to explore the psychology of Dr. Carl Jung.

In 1986, my life began to change slowly, yet dramatically, when I became a spiritual devotee of Meher Baba. Since then, my work has focused more completely on the inner journey toward wholeness, from a more conscious spiritual perspective.

Now, I am organizing and sharing my reflections and commentary on my collection of stories and experimental plays.

My intention is to reclaim what is of value and wisdom, so that I and others may continue to learn from that earlier time frame in my life. (These notes were originally published on February 10, 2011 and later edited).

Read more about these writings: Notes for a Play and Three Short Stories, Excerpts from a Play and Three Short Stories

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Categories : The Unconventional Heroine

Free Spirit Poetry and Psalms

By Sharon Lia Robinson · Comments (0)

Wednesday, October 29th, 2014

divine wine
in His Divine time
friendship on the line
fine romance sublime

(November 1, 2014)

how are you today
perusing the red wine selection
in her eiffel tower
he bows slightly
with genuine affection

(October 31, 2014)

to mend the thread
of the universe
found and holy
tikkun olam

(October 29, 2014)

she prays a holy hour
he watches from his watchful tower
she drinks her tea
then prays the rosary
he sets sail
for the shores of tripoli

(October 29, 2014)

prophesy of hope
prophesy of fatih
in His will
we meet at the gate

(October 29, 2014)

I see my mirror
in the taxicab
bohemian poets
lost and found

“Say this
She is wherever heaven is.”

(quote from Love and Its Loves, poems by David Gallatin)

(October 26, 2014)

scattered faith
scattered ashes

remnants fly in the wind
scatter in the dust

then rekindle
the holy flame.

(October 18, 2014)

a sweet new year
tasting the apples and honey

(Rosh Hashanah is the birthday of the world, the anniversary of Creation)

(Sept.21, 2014)

partying with the angels
I greet the new moon

(August 31, 2014)

a sparkling
meandering path
into the mystery
of our lives

surrendering
to the Beloved
and to His whim

I am grateful
for the challenges
and the lessons

the difficult places
become treasures
finding gifts of spirit
and Grace

Thank you, Beloved Meher Baba

(April 4, 2014)

The Light gives to all
Nurtures all with blessings and abundant Grace
The Light reflects all
Sees and knows itself as One.
To Light and to Life.

(March 16, 2014)

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Categories : Selected Poetry

Author Archive for Sharon Lia Robinson

Simone the Cat (Stories and Poems For Children)

Ms. Lily Sabina Fairweather

Breath Unfolds Sky

Mirage

Fire Music

Post Watch With Holly*

A Friend Arrives

Creating My Legacy

“pray work rest”

Inspiration

Sculpture Lessons (My First Play)

Breath Lights the Sky

Tinto

Elijah!

the dance

Unfurl

The Presence of Grace

Terumah*

A Psalm

In His Love

Inner Translation

A Labor Day Weekend Serenade

Taking Meher Baba’s name

Begin

Spirit of Grace

Dream Child, An Experimental Play (Excerpt)

Remembrance For An Unknown Artist

Reflections for My Stories

Free Spirit Poetry and Psalms

Recent Posts

Selected Writings by Sharon