Monstrous Blanket Piles

Well, my friends-
It is Thanksgivingpalooza again…
Boatloads of Italians will begin arriving at my door tomorrow.
The crowd will blossom to 25+ for Thanksgiving then I will have 21 lovely people sleeping under my roof…
Needless to say, my laptop will most likely be lost beneath monstrous blanket piles.
For those who celebrate, I wish you a warm and wondrous holiday. For those who don’t, I wish you lovely days ahead.
If I recover both my laptop and my sanity, I’ll return after a short regroup. :)
Thank you.

In the words of my friend, Simon Tocclo of Liberian Me


Behind many holiday histories, both good and bad events exist. When we celebrate, let’s not forget to honor the memories of those who lived through one side or the other.

Squanto art previously published

my satin beau

The stingy calendar does not offer up
enough holidays with you
Your gift to me–
a presence, gentle and loving
Your warm broad arms wrapping me
like satin bows
Our eyes glistening
for the festive evergreen
not the lateness of the hour
Beyond the waltzing flames,
humble snowfall brightens
the dull curb sides and dark pavement
Let’s smash the world’s timepieces
destroying all wicked hands
against the burning fireplace bowels

I must freeze this moment
and keep it safe
We are ice sculpture lovers
in an eternal sparkling embrace
,  4′ x 2 1/2′ painted a while back
(photo reference used – a b&w snap from my gorgeous mother-in-law’s modeling days
she stood a statuesque 6′ tall including spectacular legs up the yin yang)

darn, I woke this morn – the day after posting this and said to myself “dummy, you missed a clever title – bow could have been beau,” so it is rectified ;)

a love thing

I want to write a love thing
not a soliloquy or a sonnet
no thing with rhyme
or stinking of reddest roses
I want to tell you
how I think of you
all the times I’m in the dark
biting my bottom lip til it bleeds
wishing I slept outside more often
beneath the gentle resting moon
I want to tell you
how I think of you
all the times I’m in the dark
are the billion stars
that warm
my naked skin


Resting Vampire with bitten lip (has made prior appearances)
Happy Weekend!


code red

She color coded files
to keep the career rainbow in order
blue, history
red, language arts
green, science
yellow, foreign languages
then left her publishing job
to be home with a pink baby
She color coded infant toy baskets
blue, interactive pieces
red, assorted blocks
green, educational soft books
yellow, miscellaneous
the pink baby grew up
and kept a messy closet

She went on
color coding hangers now

to keep part-time employment wear in order
blue, short sleeves
red, long sleeves
green, button blouses
yellow, pants
She woke one morning
to an after rain rainbow
casting light upon her closet
over amber tea
in an ecru mug
her clothes confessed
they were tired of sameness
and so was she
parrotah color me beautiful, just don’t make me crazy;)

restroom ruminating

Leave it to a small desk
propped in the corner of a long hallway
vanishing to a point
In this bland corridor
classroom doors will soon close
after the cantankerous bell tolls
I feel a bit like Tiny Tim Cratchit
or Cinderella (before the change)
Sitting in a lonely little chair
wishing I was near dead embers
rather than sitting sentry by kiddie restrooms, Period 2
Time to dwell
Time to write
Time to think
Time to ask security guard Frank
what’s going on with his Florida dream
He holds out hope for cheaper citrus
At the far end of the cinder block
a gaggle of giggling girls
is headed outdoors for gym
now called PE
Like revised timeline terms
once AD (Anno Domini/”in the year of our Lord”) and BC (Before Christ)
now BCE (Before the Common Era) and CE (Common Era)
We’re living commonly now
Did you know?
I can see through the bolted steel fire door
the rain has stopped
Today while heading home from subbing
I learned not to drive beneath trees with the sunroof open
after a rainstorm
you’d think with all the time I’m spending back in school lately
I’d be a lot smarter by now ;)
sasquatcheven Big Foot finds little rocks to sit on
this guy created last summer with Tombow marker and Prisma pencil

game odds

a shiny new toy
perfect doll sliding out of its box
entering a game
sans instruction manual
only pretty little cards labeled
deep dramas
up down friends
frenetic flirtations
in out romances
off we go ’round the board
doll stitches tightening
crossing over and under
the fabric
holding our insides together
sometimes unraveling
when the pink and yellow money
runs out
we don’t collect a vacation
step on a wrong space
and get caught beneath a trap
’round the paces we traverse
gathering pieces along the way
letting others go
when they no longer prove useful

and when we finally reach that place
there’s one last move
the game is over

Heart Jester

Heart Jester

this guy has been ’round the block a few times