warm breadsticks and crimson scars

while having lunch at the Olive Garden with my daughter and son, prior to dropping them off on campus, we had the good fortune of having an amazing waitress named Joanne-who was a beautiful inspiration and reminder of why life is worth its challenges



spectacular glow against the robust purple grey sky
leaves spiraling in wind directing thin branches to bow
unreal color drenching the landscape
but what am I seeing
not glorious
scratched pencil lines and spinning circles
into ovals with broad maws and wild fur
sharp orbs and blocky nostrils
I’m hearing too many voices
the wind is a sailing eraser
the wall

Art Wall 1Art Wall 2Art Wall 3Art Wall 5Art Wall 6Art Wall 7Art Wall 8Art Wall 4RHinopaper falling like leaves
almost home I look up through a tree
these are the falling papers
this is the wind
this is what I need to remember
this is why
I have eyes
autumnsketches done for students to demo different animals…
picture taken when I returned home from subbing
while standing in my driveway looking up

back words

he wanted her badly
he dreamed her in his sleep
while prone on a mattress
she lay welcoming on her back
below him
far back in his subconscious

consummate boss and proper gentleman
he wished
he could take back these delirious thoughts
recant the delicious sensations

back when he was younger
there was another
he dreamed of her too
but that was back then
and this was now

in his waking hours
he didn’t understand
why he couldn’t stop hassling her
do this, do that
he bossed her badly

she often whispered under her breath
she’d never come back

but there was back pay and payback
up to this point

her life had been ‘ass backward’
God, how she craved forward

in her dreams she strode bareback on an electrifying beast
the man, Mr Boss Boss
didn’t crash her fantasies
though, she thought of him
too often

unavoidably handsome
built like a running back
that’s what the others said
she pretended he didn’t possess a well-muscled body
like she pretended she didn’t stare through his tailored shirts

she could never desire
someone who constantly rode her back
about this and that
though he did pay attention
in a backhanded sort of way

she often wondered about his secrets
there was always something
unspoken subtext
a lingering back story
hanging in the past

there was a time way back when
they both

might have cared to be bold
now rather than lingering intensity
they feared instantaneous back draft
painful death by raging fire
behind the next bolted
back door

M's Tears

M’s Tears


fake smells

behind studio walls
tech lights flicker
trapped little flames attempt escape
desk ticks
white noise suffocates
beneath night’s cape
foxes hunt
coyotes beckon
stars breathe
should go out and play
with the ‘rousing moonlight
and the wild dogs
who don’t give a crap
about silly jar candles
with fake smells

foxFox in Prisma done 2008

Mind Traveling

Dear Friends,
Since admitting to brain tattoos, I’ll admit one more grey matter item: I mind travel. Mind traveling is out of necessity. The giant husband works six days a week (someone has to tend trees and plants for the universe). At present, long distance trips are difficult. Once the delicate daughter and big son go off to college – just a few short years away – we plan on doing some serious traveling. We are going to leave the upper right side of the United States map, assuming we’re both still present and accounted for on earth… So here’s to planes, trains and winning Powerball!
Travelin' Man

Thank you. May you dream of pristine sailing vessels, five-star jets, luxury trains and winning the lottery…
Traveling Man created after receiving ‘free’ cruise coupon in the mail.