Jan 24

the rivers on my back

                                                                                                             These new things appear
                                                                                                       Slow and partial to braking
                                                                                     Like the wings of a butterfly lodged
                                                                                between the glass of your window
                                                                             and the window screen   
                                                                             A cage to hold her 
                                                                               These new things appear 
                                                                                  and we are forced to repair again
Jan 16

blackout poem #4

Doomed to wander
to take a different view 
Obvious graceful and natural 
Our character must become extravagant
the soil was cultivated on different sides of the stage
Contrasting statements 
People possessed the earth throughout it all 
And our existence vanished 

Jan 16

black out Poem #3

The novels proceeded 
An unabated course of might
His district of success 
It was plain
Frequent favors are ours
The could be characters 
Are only groundwork
His narrative however this kind of sameness is 
Reverse the spell 
Nothing can be more dangerous for success 
I am only ready to adopt one opinion
The effect of this returning only to leave once again 
Jan 15
poem 2 comments challenge: Climate

In memory of a living ocean

The sun beats down,
leaving my skin a strawberry color.
It is summer and we are at the beach,
feathers fall loose from seagull wings,
excited children run giggling and gathering them,
build sand castles of our world.
In a way childhood is one of those feathers,
bringing such joy,
such happiness to our eyes.
The water rushes in and out, in and out, placing my breath in the air
like a symphony.
I scratch my burnt skin 
and listen to the sound of nails on an old map.
Our world is warming and warming
until we return to the earth as sand once again.

Jan 13

little light

in the morning of a child 
the world is bright
nightlights, toys, and imaginary friends

in the morning of a child 
is full of wonder
my eyes are open looking out into this
all these memories intertwine my golden web 
and I the spider

in the morning of a child 
the day is full of plans
cupcake tea parties
fields full of bright flowers dappled with gold
and stuffed animal friends on the bed

in the morning of a child
all of this seemed like nothing 
nothing nothing nothing you can do will shake my confidence
nothing can shake my confidence
not an earthquake 
or a storm 
or a fire
or nothing

in the morning of a child 
the world is full of flowers
reading tea bag fortunes was my passion

in the morning of a child 
in the morning of a child 
in the morning of a child

in the morning of a child
Jan 12

colors of my mind

red wears her hair in wild burning curls
her long dress fit giving power to that girl!

orange wears a crown set tilted to one side
her eyes soft from crys on long winter nights 

yellow wears a dandelion chain
till the moon comes and she sleeps for eternity again

green wears the wild child soul
she climbes in trees she swims in the breeze
till the bees are at ease at their home they rest.

blue wears long walks down the beach at dawn
holding hands in the sands till our hearts are gone
violet wears a scarf and a warm soft smile
she rests her old bones in the winter for a while

purple wairs uneakness writen wright there on her shirt
and her skirt oh her skirt is made of all the hours

pink wairs her spunk and an elefent trunk
rests sofly on her sholder
a welcomeing freind.
Jan 09


She takes my hand and pulls me out of my body 

Leaving my shell 

And the rain still falls 

Nothing chases the rain nothing holds it back

The rain the rain the rain

I'm just hiding my pain 

And the people watch with masks unveiled

We are all looking for sanity

A point at which people look at you and say she is perfect

FACE IT there is no perfect

We stay in the dark writing what we believe 

Hoping we believe

And you hold my hand 

And the rain still falls

We all hope for acceptance

We hope for remembrance 

And we hope for a hand to hold

And you hair still runs like a waterfall down your back

And the rain still falls 

Jan 09

Black out Poem #2

Halfway Across

Caressed his boney fingers

The course from contemptuous embrace

Water and sky

On the paper beneath his hands


Fell into rhythmatic design

Swirling together across the paper

As winds blown

Long lines suspiciously deck

The islands for a while

A bare suggestion shouldn’t

Bother the rain

It's not always easy to command attention


Had been experience

Halfway across

Or maybe more

I haven’t been living right

For your destination 

With a tendency

This last word gave him

Boundless pale attention

At last

Looking at anger

Required this person

Complete with wings

A species 


Skin glowed

Eyes were clear
Jan 09

Black Out Poem #1 Boots

The drama
A journey 
Seas provide me patience
The perfect word
Not more boots
Just before we sailed
Making the journey
The gossip ship
My notes go on
Long limbs loosely jointed
Hollow bones
Where deep in there sockets
Hands with long fingers
By the tropical sun
Her hair
Very elaborately done
Her gold rimmed face
Noticeable was her voice
Dressed in black
She managed the mission
The journies 
Not without peril
She spoke
Dancing knowledge in my stories
Is not strange

Jan 09


The apocalyptic conversations we have been having through roses in the sky

Chasing dragons throughout the galaxy

We watch flys over the waters of the pound

The black holes dance around you like the stars in the sky

Like the stars in your eye

The flowers look pretty but fill your nose with poison

A good metaphor for our love

It's a beautiful garden

Another good metaphor

our minds beating together our hearts somewhere else

The empty words of the one that kill us fall the dead leaves on the earth

Change is not something you can wait for change is the girl with hair like a waterfall

Her eyes like the night hungry searching

And the black holes surround her 

Another metaphor for lost