a jet cuts across the blue carrying bodies in its metal womb to be delivered somewhere else ***** Napowrimo Day 30 prompt: “I’d like you to try your hand at a minimalist poem. What’s that? Well, a poem that is … Continue reading Limitless Birth
You ask what is air? It’s the super highway for birds It’s the place where screams echo or fade It’s a flotation device for thrown kisses It’s life itself for life on Earth You ask what is water? It’s a … Continue reading It’s All This & More
Missing a thing I never had an indifferent sun shines scorching aloneness the invisible brand in my blood ***** Napowrimo Day 27 Continue reading Hiraeth
I felt raw-boned & rusted Dragging my hands in pockets full of scared Pockets full of scared & Walking a road rutted with wanting to get out I was wanting to get out That red dirt prison, that green-treed mess A … Continue reading Raw Boned
It’s almost May, the last worry free month before Hurricane Season but also the month of preparation. Early summer ferns unfurl as we test the roll ability of storm shutters. Magnolia blossoms waft their lemony scent as we store bottles … Continue reading Hurricane Season
Pass through the skin of the chrysalis, emerge pumped into Earth, a mythological creature with a body blooded on sunlight, a body called more, and wings perched perpendicular from bathing in more heat than color. ***** Napowrimo Day 24 prompt: … Continue reading Beautiful Misfit
Feet bound to earth one day, soaring through space the next, turning a page from past to future and skipping everything in between. Weightless above mountain tops, above savannas spread below rich with movement, the khaki and green of the … Continue reading Weightless
Bob lived in a castle in the clouds, when he was home the clouds tinkled like zills on a bellydancers fingers, when he was out the clouds did the Hustle because Bob forbade it when he was home. Bob had … Continue reading Tea with Bob
It’s 11pm and I should be asleep. In the morning I’ll pay for it with a dull headache, leaden arms and legs and a desire for everything to go away so I can stretch out on the sofa, sip coffee, … Continue reading Write then Sleep
She was fairy fluff conjured up by a man named Baum who, like many men, see women as either Good or Bad. Glinda was a fantastical ideal with a blank smile dressed in a frothy pink (of course) dress, perfect … Continue reading Glinda was never a Witch
