Between sundown and moonrise the world feels heavy, a stone upon the heart. There is no going forward nor looking back, no plans in the making nor nostalgic memories. There is only the now, the plain evening song of blood and bone. Continue reading Desire Rests
You’ve been gone so long I couldn’t imagine you could still do harm. Every time I look around you’re shedding your skin, and I feel claws pressing in, opaque scales falling like snow, blocking the door. *** Image via Flickr Continue reading Cast Away
My poem “Fractured Journey” is published in the Winter Quarterly of Blue Five Notebook/Blue Fifth Review. I’m so happy to join the talented writers in this wonderful edition. Big thanks to editors Sam Rasnake and Bill Yarrow who are outstanding poets themselves and have been so generous to me with their encouragement and advice over the years. In December my poem “2 Worlds” was published in Beate Sigridddaughters wonderful journal, Writing in a Woman’s Voice. I have great respect for Beate and the tireless work she does promoting women’s writing. I’ll never forget the surprise and elation I felt when she … Continue reading Publications: Blue Fifth Review & Writing in a Woman’s Voice
in times of stress or anger, when others condemn your silence or your shout. Remember your own shining soul, do not succumb to misunderstanding or ill informed hate. Think for yourself, consider all voices. Walk outside the herd falling over the cliff. Remember who you are. Continue reading Remember Who You Are
The scent of The Gulf blows in On the breeze Damp, salty Boundless undulation In Aqua Eyes closed, sounds muffled Only the lap of liquid that feels Like love Continue reading Morning Meditation: Aquatic Reverie
Think of me as grass stain, skinned knee, sliver of new moon, unseen tremors or the chill rasp of sparked surprise, rose petals and blood in the palm of your hand, teardrops coated in phosphorus. Say hosanna. Let it mean Save Me. ~~~ Credits: Milo Gallagher, Robert Okaji, Christina Clark, Christine Beck, Clare Martin, Erren Kelly. So this is my first attempt at the Cento, defined as “a poetic form made up of lines from poems by other poets” on Poets.org. Essentially, I perused the “poetry I like” tag on my Pocket account and pulled lines that spoke to me. … Continue reading Cento: When I Go
Looking up on a breezy almost-Autumn day, the grey half-moon hovers in an expanse of azure, a thumbprint from the hand of a pale blue dot. Continue reading Morning Meditation: Day Moon
My poem, “Another Poem About the Moon”, was just published in the new issue of Literary Orphans. Huge thanks to Mike Joyce, Scott Walden, and Peter Marra for allowing my work to grace their pages for the third time. I also want to thank Kaia Pieters, featured artist, for the beautiful photography that accompanies my piece and the others in this issue. Beautiful work, indeed. Earlier this month my poem, “Bring Down the Babies”, was published in the beautiful Mockingheart Review. This journal specializes in publishing poetry and is curated by the wonderful Louisiana poet Clare Martin. If poetry is … Continue reading Recent Publications
I read a poem a while back that said “real New Yorkers” don’t visit the 9/11 Museum. It’s only for tourists. It made me sad, soul-sad, in a way I can’t even describe. I thought about my own reaction when I visited. It was one of only two times in my life I burst into tears, shocking myself. I didn’t feel it coming, until it was there in all its’ raw power. The emotion that wells up unexpectedly is a part of our human-ness. I’ve thought of that poet’s words often, feeling a little lost for him, for his cynicism. … Continue reading Real New Yorkers (9/11/16)
He Was So Beautiful (After Alice Paalen) He was so beautiful every day his smooth brown face his hair cropped close silver and coal stolen from narrowed eyes from looks of scorn amid the cypress he walked next to water the egrets nest hidden secrets are beautiful between four lips three black words on a crumpled white page in a pocket in a drawer so many wings unable to fly Continue reading He Was So Beautiful
