dragon’s eye

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Raven Hall Pool

new flash piece, Raven Hall Pool, Firefly Magazine

writing flash fiction is such a joy for me
creating poems in the first person as I often do holds me back a bit
I sometimes fear a kind reader will think, “AnnMarie is sad, AnnMarie is whacked, AnnMarie better get her shit together…”😉

in flash fiction I can go hog-wild
it’s liberating for a mom of two teens, a giant husband, one small dog and caretaker of three elderly folks

this particular flash piece is based in reality
it is near and dear to my heart as is my sweet mom (her image in background)

temptations

I often speak
not often enough
of honesty
when it’s practical and lends itself lyrically
So, here I will weaken myself by revealing
a palpable fear
This dread haunts me in most aspects of thought
Elusive
still I know its talents in matters of temptation
She tries to bend my whim to her words
He employs brute strength to muscle my conscience
They slide plug nickels, never bright pennies
I don’t understand much of what I do
What if we’re not supposed to
There remains a prideful integrity in placating my own selfish spirit
I grip this fiercely
The dismay of losing my voice pales my heart
There are glimpses of things I’ve seen
Wisps of smoke on horizons blazing far above my dark corner
Questions I ask my patient angels on loan and my personal demons on demand
Am I not at their measure
Am I not reaching enough
And my humanness does stall
And my heart does break
She, He, and They come at me in these moments
bending, prodding, soliciting me to fabricate with their designer colors
In weak moments, I fall to my knees in thanks, that I was born a willful child-listening to no one’s voice
but my own

Angel Cone

goddamn peaceful

5 am
wishing ’twas contented spirits
who dusted winter’s cement grasses
with sparkling pixie dust
my little dog’s lone paw prints
sweet as a postcard one might send a faraway lover
I linger in this miraculous quiet
let the moment warm
the silence of this morning
as beautiful as swimming beneath water
where sounds of despair are drowned
swept away by bubbling filters and light-dancing reflections
fondling liquid ballerina toes
there I often dream
there, I can only dream
in the silent spaces away from mouths not my own
‘the’ planet, when we’re cruel
mother earth, when we’re kind
I don’t want to touch the frozen front door knob
twist it and go back inside
rather
I’d love to freeze out here
5 am
with the sparkling pixie dust
and all that glitters
in the beauty of this miraculous silence
when the world seems so goddamn peaceful
rest
“ye merry, gentlemen
let nothing you dismay”

Rudolph Hug

Rudolph Hug

lotm-screen-shot-amazonhey, what do ya know, monster clawed its merry little way to #9 position this past week on Amazon’s little list of, hot new love poetry releases