farce of the heart
Tag Archives: poetry
‘baring’ her soul
this figure was created from leftover palette paint I didn’t want to waste – she sort of just materialized – sometimes it’s liberating to paint a nude form when it arises naturally from the earth – not contrived for a whole host of other reasons
the buck moon
I’m so very thrilled that a new poem of mine, the buck moon, was included in this wonderful magazine!
Into the Void, is available in both print and digital form.
“Included in ‘Nine New Lit Mags You Need to Read’ as one of “nine new journals that appeared on the scene within the past couple of years and have already made their mark on the literary landscape” in the November/December 2016 Issue of Poets & Writers.”
the buck moon
there is a moon where newness emerges
from above the forward brow line
placid black almond eyes
antlers and smooth skin twist
against harder things
strip away velvet underpinnings
wrap the chilled arms of night air
forest canopy dulling shadow
dancing silhouettes vague
and
slippery
vulnerable newness pressed to pounding chests
no light
forecasting the future
suckle the dark together
escape
alone
harvest moon secrets
passed your usual faith
how embarrassing, had to redo this because I always screw up “past” vs “passed”
lovers and deaf dogs
excerpt and art from, love of the monster, eBook coming soon
I’ve been swapping some drawings in print version with paintings for eBook-
because glorious color costs the same as black and white in computer land😘
I simply don’t know
magic
I created this wizard to raise funds for a local high school’s Senior Night. I wish I’d taken better pictures of the darn guy before I gave him away. Live and learn! 😘 – thank you
2 new pieces published in Foxglove Journal
Veery excited to announce 2 new poems published in Foxglove Journal!
my poem, dogeared inspiration, in FOXGLOVE JOURNAL
I dogeared a page in your book
of inspirational quotes, Volume Two.
The one you keep in the nightstand
on your side of the bed.
The bed we never should have bought
with that money. Rather than a bamboo
pillowtop, we should have invested
in help from voices other than our own.
When you wake and find I’m not here
fitting into the lump our sleep pattern created
on a mattress supposedly resistant to lumps–
If you shuffle to the dog-eared page
of inspirational quotes, Volume Two,
perhaps you’ll figure out why
I was inspired to leave.
my poem, dark magic, in FOXGLOVE JOURNAL
s it dark magic that occurs
behind a wet curtain
a blanket of steam spray cascades down your flesh
is it darker magic still
when your eyes close
slight-of-hand for the senses
touch vibrates the clean sudsy silk
no floral bouquet or inattentive perfumes
no phony scent of any kind
unadulterated mist
like morning dreams
pouring over you
awash in clear mercy
when the frothing in your head
caresses the patterned tiles
and floats away in shimmering bubbles
the spray cuts off
the curtain draws back
the steam dissipates
in one breathless moment
the spell ceases
like a heartbeat
evaporates out the window
along with your fantasies
trashed by life
this is an excerpt from my illustrated poetry collection, love of the monster – thank you
anntogether 