Sunday, October 30, 2011

What's this? What's this?

October is nearly done.
Do you know what that means?
NaNoWriMo is here.
Do you know what that means?
Thoughts and creative energy
will shift from poetry to prose
for thirty days of down-and-dirty
rough draft novel writing.
Do you know what that means?
Dusty house, undone chores,
allegedly starving family members,
stealth 'noveling' at work,
write-ins and trolling the NaNo
forums for the perfect plot
twist or procrastination activity.
Do you know what that means?
Let's write!

Monday, October 24, 2011


Don the frock of imagination
and skip into childhood stories,
where anything is possible and
the good girls always win and
the bad guys get a butt-kicking
and even if they are bad,
they are guys, right?
Grin, Mr. C. Cat, lift a wounded spirit
to your level of silliness and
spirited excitement.
I want your smile stretching between
my ears, making my brain happy
with innocence and idealism
and hope.
(Posted for Midnight Snack #8, 10/25/11)

We could have had it all...

Going through the motions
of everyday activity while
preparing for the new life,
motions stiff and wooden
and colorless,
almost meaningless.
When did life become so flat?
Yes, it's been that way for a
few years now, but my heart
water-colored your behavior,
my writing and my daughter
gave me beautiful sunsets and
energy and meaning.
Now, it's sepia, fading to black.
You touch me and it seems loving,
but really, it's a lie, and I shrug off
your aberrant hope and
look to the horizon
over your shoulder
where the sun is slowly rising.
(Posted for Midnight Snack #6, 10/24/11 - late, I know, but the image spoke to me today!
Also posted to Thursday Think Tank #71, Energy, 10/24/11)

Sunday, October 23, 2011


Why do these old pictures always seem so
depressing and poverty-stricken?
Little children appearing poor and ill-cared for.
My fingers itch to grab colored pencils and 
sketch in pink cheeks and brightly colored shirts
and cheery smiles. Yet...
wait - those smiles are already there. 
My sepia impression missed those
lovely innocent smiles.
"Look up" - it is already better!
(Written for Sepia Saturday 97, 10/13/11)

Move it

The brain and the body
are knotted with scar tissue
fat cells, varicose veins,
scrambled metabolism,
slack muscles, and
mental sludge.
Limber up! I say to
myself, dragging soul and
flesh to the point of willingness.
The brain is agile, but the
body is stove up with neglect
and inactivity.
Feeling old, but it doesn't
have to be this way!
(Posted for One Single Impression 191, "Limber Up" and Poetry Pantry #72, 10/23/11)

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Medium: paper

Image credit

It mocks and pleads
with the possibilities,
begging for the pen to
be put to page, for the
uncovering of the poem
or story woven in
its very fibers, patiently
waiting for its
The creative thought
was always there,
waiting for to be
(Posted for One Single Impression 190, "Paper", 10/18/11)


Image credit

Peacefully blotted days
of freedom
sparkle on a seemingly
unreachable horizon of
a glass ceiling.
Break the jar.
(Posted for Thursday Think Tank #70, 10/18/11)

Monday, October 17, 2011


Eyes red with rage
at the continued duplicity
while professed transparency
is peddled.
You know I know better.
You know my intuitive sense
is dead on about the lying and
shallowness and defensiveness.
You aren't even honest with yourself -
why would you be with me?
It hurts and the wound won't heal
because the harm is still being
(Posted for Midnight Snack #7, 10/17/11 and 
Thursday Poet's Rally 54, 10/24/11)

Just you wait...

Image credit

I'll pray for you.
Our God is an awesome God.
Jesus loves you.
My God is bigger than your problem.
God either is or He isn't.
No God, no peace
Know God, know peace.
You had better get right with God now
before it's too late.

My head swirls with the
constant input from everyone
else's conception of a
Higher Power.
What about my perception?
I'm weary of hearing what
everyone else thinks
He is or isn't.
What matters is
my relationship to
And what or who I am
based on what I do or do not
I am allowed to 
find that, form that, believe that.
Shouldn't I?
So many questions....
(Posted for Poetry Pantry #71, 10/17/11)

Thursday, October 6, 2011


Dore Gustave - the Resurrection

Of mothers
and cousins and
uncles and aunts.
Of good friends and
former enemies and
hopes dreams thoughts:
death gently takes you
from our midst into a
physicality we cannot
understand or yet join.