Tag Archives: prose

5 am peaceful, poem published in the Avocet

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5 am peaceful

wishing it were contented spirits
dusting the cement grass with glitter
not winter’s freeze

my dachshund’s paw prints
sweet as a postcard
one might send a faraway lover

I linger in the numbing quiet
let the moment warm this blanketed silence
hushed low like swimming beneath water
where despair drowns then floats away
in bubbles and dancing reflections

don’t want to twist the frozen doorknob
and go back inside
I’d love to remain out here
5 am
with the sparkling dust
and all that glitters
in the beauty of this silence
when the world is so peaceful

Rudolph Hug

Rudolph Hug

drawn a few years back with watercolor marker, acrylic, and a dab of prisma pencil

it is

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well
it is
done
a book
mine
thin and monochromatic
beast and verse
love and madness
what we do to ourselves
what I’ve held
and continue
to store in my own heart
through personal trials
and gentle outward observations
it is
done
a book
for my children
something to hold in their hands
one day
when they need my heart nearby
I might be here
when they seek my heart
but if I’m not
it is

I’m of the old school belief if something is worthwhile eventually it will find its way, not a wonderful sales person for my own work, I must make an effort especially for my talented and generous friends and family who helped me realize this first publishing dream, so my friends, my very first illustrated book of free verse (some call them poems, my father believes poetry should rhyme – these verses do not) is available on my booksite – loveofthemonster.com
cover-image-jpegI thank you – how very exciting it is this morning to write this as the first white of winter presses against my studio door:)

little low, high heeled dude for halloween

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be who or what you dream
but just for today;)
top-headthis little guy makes a black and white appearance in my illustrated book of love verse
love of the monster available 12.15.16, maybe sooner:)

Happy Birthday to my beautiful mother, 81 years young today

“they”

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her eyes face the pavement
“they” whisper
in booming voices
secrets no one could know
cutting 
tearing at her invisible flesh
piece by piece
bit by bit
the backside of her heart vacant
“they” say
“they” laugh
“they” commune
“they” cackle
exhaling poisonous fumes
their souls
shriveling with each round
this assault will continue
as must she

Dolores/oilthis 4’x’3 painting is almost 30 years old – one of my dear sisters allowed me to stretch and contort her beautiful face for the purposes of art
where I have common brown – dolores’ eyes are beautiful blue

this verse was published last year, I reworked it extensively
every time I return to my older poems – I cringe a little, laugh sometimes, then rewrite

chiseled stallion manes

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a grand canyon
opens upon herself
deliberate in need
a succubus of blazing color
lifted from sunken oyster shells
bewitched by desert suns
he, Bryce
wild stallion manes
chiseled of stone
breaking gravity
powdered blue with atmosphere
tawny bleached
breathless creations
we limited to human-ness
can only admire

skeleton stallion

skeleton stallion

many years ago, I saw the Grand  Canyon and believed her lovely, but I was exceptionally amazed at the unusual beauty of Bryce Canyon, Utah
the background in this sketch is an homage to Bryce

My first

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author-shot-full-b_w-1Well, what can I say? My moment of truth has arrived. Come mid-December, my first book filled with my heart and dreams will be out there orbiting reader-land. I can only hope it will alight upon many a curious traveler. I honestly don’t know how love of the monster will be received. I’ve created a little book (spine is just shy of 1/4″) filled with big monsters. The monsters are paired with love poems that I think best represent their personalities. So I have these passionate words married to fearsome images, other times, the images are not so fearsome, maybe a smiling, pretty ‘vampiress.’ So it’s anyone’s guess if my little book will have any bite;) At the very least it will be an interesting experiment for my off-kilter sense of humor and love of all things monster. And now I must practice what I preach. I must be as brave as I’ve taught my children to be.
Here goes…
cover-image-jpegmy exceptionally talented sister-in-art, Grace Roselli took my author photo

to flourish and decide and dream

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Max frown/acrylic

Max/acrylic

sixteen today
time, is his friend
an entire life
to flourish and decide and dream
he was born
with an old soul
warm and caring
those eyes of his
speak in softness
two more years
then he will fly
all that resides in him
all that is good
all that is still mystery
for now
he’s thinking pediatrician
a tender spot for babies
cares about children
while looking in the mirror
trying to see the man
he will one day become
max copyMax portrait painted about twelve years ago
15-years-old in detail photo above (at his sister’s 2016 high school graduation)

Phantasms of Fantasy

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she is not fearful
monster habitats
are not of this world
loved ones reinforce
and echo friendly books
monsters are creative figments
phantasms of fantasy
into dollhouse she is not fearful
monster habitats
are not of this world
learned now
she reminds herself
monsters are creative figments
phantasms of fantasy
buck fifty headline – RAMPAGE
closet monstermonsters
are not of this world
she is learned
she reminds herself

May you dream of safety for all the world’s children.

Photo of delicate daughter taken 14 years ago in her most favorite house, monster on black sketched on printer paper while subbing yesterday, marker added at home.

Mojo’s Tail

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The simplicity of a dog’s tail measuring more than temperature. How that tail remains alert until its owner unearths a treasure. A perfect ball – mushy, once yellow – perfect just the same. It’s Mojo’s treasure. The purity of finding bliss. Wind be damned. The grey sky an extemporaneous play with an early curtain call. How Mojo’s tail flies – a noble waving banner from the winning side. The captivating colors of victory unfurl. Mojo’s tail is happy as is he – by extension…
mojo gardenmojo in snowMay you dream of finding singular happiness in the simple things…
Mojo’s pics snapped this blustery morning.
Red wolf (endangered) with a happy tail created last week with marker and pencil.
red wolf