Happy Mother’s Day to all you wondrous moms!
luminous
Happy Mother’s Day to all you wondrous moms!
Tag Archives: poetry
two headless trio, painting published in the The A3 Review!
this piece was painted, let’s see if my memory is working, about twenty years ago…
do not harm him
eyes of magma
new poem, Eyes of Magma, published at HerStory – a purpose-driven creative venue for the unified female voice – love this blog
Eyes of Magma
legs thinner than sipping straws
supporting a body too frail for words
strength and shine
will settle in those eyes of magma
super heated by flecks of brilliance
lit from behind
unknown to the world
one day
she will become a champion of peace
she is on her way now
seek her out in every young woman
a long time in the making
After experiencing several monster-sized issues, my eBook is now available. Truth be told, post-problems it was ready in late January, but at the time, I had not the heart to promote it. So without further ado – some new illustrations and a new poem too – love of the monster – is yours for the downloading (oh and a tiny $2.99)
❤thank you
Apathetic Wrinkling – poem published
Apathetic Wrinkling
There are parts that work well rolling on the floor. Leave me be. I will find my footing. Unlike her. Don’t you hear the screaming. The window, open like the door but less welcoming. Endless sobs hitting the birds outside. What is she crying about this time?
Wrinkles.
How she just can’t do it anymore.
Hell, who can?
There are no places to hide when you know all the rooms in your home. I wonder if she’s dying while standing on her feet. My ears are chained to this self-inflicted malaise. Perhaps the plasma screen will extend its curving armature and whisper encouragement as she continues moaning. Wrinkles. Too many.
Forgotten in the dryer, shirts crinkled like a baby’s ass.
Cotton shits wrinkles.
I should be the one crying.
4:20 am
My poem “4:20 am” published in the weekly Avocet – a magazine focusing on nature and all its breathtaking wonder.
Baby Elf
my poem “4:20 am” (attached below) is in the weekly Avocet – issue #262 –
Avocet link if you’d like to submit writing to this important publication for Mother Earth
4:20AM
frost creeps into the holes of my old moccasins
the taffy-stretched shadow of a red sunset maple
reaches across the dark grass
as if she too
desires the moon’s infinite perfection
stars tuck away in their opaque shells
this is autumn’s whisper
I peek through my eyelashes
must commit to memory
must etch my soul with rehearsed minutes
before tomorrow’s living
rubs out this wonder
4:30AM
I remain frozen in my silent place
knowing the sun will wipe away
the beautiful moon
this pristine silent moment
don’t want to go back inside a walled house
wish I could honestly tell you
a love affair with nature
enticed me from my bed
at 4:15 AM
my Dachshund needed to pee
baby elf sketch created a few years back with pencil
little red suitcase
new poem “Little Red Suitcase” published in oddball – this very cool magazine
I hope you’ll check it out. I kept a little red suitcase in my childhood bedroom closet for many years-
I was always ready to run away…
little red suitcase
Glasses stretch another piece of writing on the basement desk.
A string of words magnified beneath the resting lenses. All other
sentences, words I’ve written and know as well as the magnified
ones, settle back into the smallness of shadows.
A small red suitcase.
Stashed in my closet for when the ideas in my head can’t take the
body impersonating them any longer. A child and her red suitcase.
Bottom of the closet next to my dog Charlie with the chopped off
ears. He’s curly pink. I cut his ears off so he won’t have to hear
what I do in my head.
My typewriter is turquoise. I remember it that way. Near the desk table,
my fifth and sixth parakeets most likely named Budgie One and Two
because that’s what they were. Maybe bright blue and bright green
parakeets don’t like what they see in their little bird mirror. No room
for suitcases in their orange cage so they just die.
No flying away when the windows are shut
and people are supposed to love you.
spotlit silence
if only peace could be magicked
When I think of my children going into the world, I find myself championing humanity. I pray we never cease believing this: we are so much stronger than these acts of violence that steal innocent life and try to rip away our collective compassion for one another
anntogether 