Planetary Alignment


 I don’t remember pushing through the doors

But I slip over the jam with all the people just the same.

Under the night’s full cup of moon.
          I look past the hour, past the windows where within I just had communion with the light.
          As one of the crowd again
I’m singing a simple song 
small children mistake for church.
My eyes see it first.
two planets burn in a kiss
postponed for two thousand years.
I can’t help but measure the sadness, the brevity
as I point to the Western sky.

Does anyone know how fleeting this is? I think nobody ever does.

22nd Wedding Anniversary

The sun has married the jasmine, once again
&the water in the bowl is blue, once again.
Here above the table, a spider has spun her lacy web
&I contemplate it, of course, before cutting through it
with one of the old wire hangers we leave out here
to roast marshmallows on rare but sweet campfire nights.
I note this: it’s a joyful-rainbow-marriage kind of day
&I tear lace &metaphors apart the same way (with unruly wires).
It’s my 22nd wedding anniversary.  And there’s a ruling.

for Real Toads
playing it again for Ella’s Edge

Talk Amongst Yourselves

“I am carryed towards the West This day,
when my Soules forme bends towards the East.”
-John Donne

because you don’t know your own mind
speak to no one
going westbound
if your soul bends
towards the east

because you don’t know your own mind
talk to the man
with the small eyes
to the woman
with the broad smile

because you don’t know your own mind
ask someone else
for the nature
of their travels
if going West

for APED


slap me awake from ill perceived
4/4 rhythm
without purple

that lilac bush in September
in her backyard
saw me laughing
living so sure

re-teach me how to eat it all:
some yellow sands
all sad blue hearts
one orchid sky

for Quickly

‘father’ is in this

this poem has the word ‘father’ at least once
have you forgiven me? not that i asked
i don’t know if i ever told a soul
but i’ve wished the ones i loved to be dead

give thanks to the Lord, i’ll miss you the most
it wasn’t working, when you weren’t at home
mom washed a bottle by hand in white soap
and got it stuck before my very eyes

only white butter cream could do the trick
have I done well? washed two bowls &two spoons
to eat our GrapeNuts before we cannot
i think that’s where my heart is– so it is

i like butter &bubbles &white dogs
i curl my hair & go to the movies
i muse, father, we are not so lonely
fuchsia starfish cling without any thumbs

have i loved well? by well, i mean enough
i have forgotten the feel of teal spines
but i can spell the names printed on face:
In Cold Blood, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest

fuchsia’s free &pink &your hair’s not white
have i ever said i’ll miss you the most?
that i would never wish you a real death
aren’t words fugitives? paupers on paper

It’s Always Like That With You


Gaze at the charred hills
God’s burnt-out hussies
Gaze at the airplanes
Man’s giant penis

[Pulling some jewels directly &indirectly from
Marilyn Chin’s quatrains and Haiku for 
Real Toads.
The tongue-in-cheek title is only thing I can lay claim to.]

let’s live suddenly without thinking


This is how she does it. De-light full

Originally posted on Whimsygizmo's Blog:

Screenshot 2015-06-12 08.59.54

original, by E.E. Cummings:
Screenshot 2015-06-12 09.00.58

prompted by quickly, who invites us to put some spin on an existing poem, leaving the original title. i’m in an E.E. mood today, and i freakin’ love this title.

View original

Sometimes I Get It

summer storms, their
mysterious clearings
remind me that
aren’t i always
hidden in
the cleft of a rock?
cilious, high &mighty
stances have me
crouching far &low
from mother’s cyclones
rattling like a leaf
under unveiled awnings
wanting to know,
without asking of course,
how big is God’s toe?
if lightning shoots sand
into smooth glass sculptures,
if the winds &the rain
are locomotive trains,
then how big is God’s toe?
and how lucky am I?

for Real Toads

I See You Being Brave

  Hundreds of kites fly in these parts, but until you name one ‘Paradise’ how will you ever slice through the short door and become alive?

Written for A Prompt Each Day’s Weekend Wordle

I’m All In

I’m still the same girl I used to be; dreaming of wild new swing sets complete with chutes & ladders, bells & whistles. I never played pretend with plastic Barbies. Too busy and had no inclination.

As a pesky kid, I convinced my Dad to hang a rope swing in our backyard. Sadly, he took it down after he saw I was killing the grass.

Undeterred then, and even now, no obstacle has stood in the way of my dreams to fly through the air, to climb new heights. I’m shameless and stupid like that. My guardian angel is the best.

Tomorrow is the first day of summer vacation with my kids. Of course, I’m taking them to ride the newest roller coaster on the mountain. It’s twisted, come on! Then, in late summer (after 4 weeks at our beach job/yes there is a God who blesses me) we’ll trek to Colorado and breathe life in from a mile high up. In my opinion, a breezy suspension kind of day with bungee cords, chains, and bridges to traverse is the best kind for living.

I’m all in, Summer! But you already knew that.