Sometimes I see forever before knowing if I can make it. Sometimes life falls apart like clumps of dirt held tightly in my hands. Will I be scattered on the wind this time, like the spokes of a wishflower? The force of air and spit from a mouth thrusting me into the unknown? Or will … Continue reading Molting
Welcome to The Flipside, to The Upside Down. Here, everything is as it should be. Here, we live inside dark clouds. There is no sun in here, no days full of light. Here the shadows are more than echoes of a past we try to fight. Here there is no floor firm under your feet. … Continue reading The Upside Down
Poet's Notes: This was written in response to a journal prompt by Pixie Lighthorse from her book, "Prayers of Honoring Grief." The question was: How can I honor what I've been through?
Author's note: I wrote this Double Haiku as an epilogue to my poem Weekdays. It was almost in the long form free verse, but I liked it much better short and sweet, (No pun intended. Well, maybe a little!).
Just like that, the change. Crimson to cobalt. When he snaps under pressure from duties pulling the band of his life, it stings. Leaves a dark mark. When he disconnects from fleshy ones around him because it is time to plug into the device, he's a slave, milked, for a patch of pasture. And he … Continue reading Weekdays
He is silent in his thoughts even when I ask a question; Tall in red and denim, pensive and peering through glass and structure. I get lost outside of that box of vision; When the colors reveal themselves to him and mix with his chaos; When the lights of his life keep flashing their lumens … Continue reading The Moth
As the Camp Fire continues to burn in Northern California, the San Francisco greater Bay Area is dramatically effected by Unhealthy Air Quality levels, which is effecting some of our health, especially those in sensitive groups, like myself. Many local poets are writing about this to deal with their experiences, and I am no exception. … Continue reading The Tower (a page poem)
I haven't written or shared Spoken Word poetry in a very long time, but felt utterly compelled to do so yesterday as way to deal with my own feelings about the current tragedy of the Camp Fire effecting so many Californians right now, including my own family who lost everything. I wasn't sure it was … Continue reading Fire-breathing (spoken word)
Friends always say, "Of course!" when they promise to keep in touch, keep the friendship alive, when a new mate is found. But I know you. Your hunger is so big, you struggle often to be anything else, and it's hard to think when you're starving. I know starving. Her name is Diana, you said. … Continue reading A Blessing for The Hunters
Life goes on, and your memory lives in hidden moments that catch me when I'm not looking and tug at the heart you helped make bigger. The brazen, ruthless grief is undeniable. But the subtle times and the little things; those are the places where my feet stumble. I am glad to stumble, though, because … Continue reading For She Who Taught Me Love