she threw away her black stilettos she stopped using eye cream at night her eyebrows went untweezed her eyelashes uncurled she cut her fingernails short and didn’t wear polish she didn’t have her teeth whitened or her hair dyed she shunned tattoos and piercings and cat eye makeup she disappeared into translucence thumbing her nose at the cliff ___________________________ Shared on dVerse Poets Pub. Continue reading Her Skin Fits Like a Glove
April is National Poetry Month and I have let it slip by without a mention on this blog I’ve dedicated to my own poetic attempts. There are so many talented poets out there in internet-land that I’ve had the privledge of reading and I wish I’d had the time and strength to write about them all here, to share their words with you. I wish I had the time to read the work of those who read mine but I only am able to be online in fits and starts – a few minutes here, an hour there. I’m feeling … Continue reading Writings and Musings
The skin under her eyes is a delicate bluish-purple and as thin as a membrane covering the fluttering heart of a hunted animal. The lines of her face tell of a precarious journey but the path remains a mystery. Continue reading A Face On the Corner In the Rain
Clarinet, piano and sax waft out my open door, melodies flowing like clear water over river rock, high and low up and down tinkling, trilling, tumbling one moment, then a slow and steady sizzle the next, spritzing in my head all the day long….. Continue reading Jazz At 9 a.m.
New Orleans street art photographed by Rex Dingler She told us life on the road can be tough creating angst and frustration but a cog can’t be the best version of our path. Think Dare Change Abide your ending or Drive. Continue reading Choices
the ocean rolls like bodies beneath sheets as twilight seeps over the horizon, we lie side by side not touching and the day is slipping away days of grey and mist passed and we persevered together, swimming in warm, safe waters you were in my head awake and asleep, I could never get enough, now I barely see you, we exist in separate seas we’ve been to places no one else has seen, felt the lightning in the midst of a storm, seen northern lights flashing in southern night skies can we get it back, can a hurricane blow away … Continue reading Passages
A cat in heat has been caterwauling non-stop for at least a week and fire trucks are wailing and road rage-crazed drivers are honking their horns and buses are vroom-vrooming and kids are playing basketball in the parking lot behind the house, the ball thumping repeatedly on the pavement making the dogs bark and the drive-up kid at McD’s is talking into the mic so loud I can hear each and every Yat infused syllable she speaks to each and every fast food starved patron who drives up and lord have mercy I’m sick and tired of being sick and … Continue reading A Day in the Life of a Sick Woman
She feels stagnant as the swamp on a grey afternoon, the water covered with puke green algae broken only by bloodshot alligator eyes protruding from it’s murky depths. She’s the rotting waterlogged cypress log whose only movement originates from the prodding of another less inanimate object. Minutes, hours, days pass and only the moon revolves. Continue reading Grey & Green & What’s In Between
We are stronger than bombs, more determined than the Taliban, as sisters and daughters we stand together under falling bricks and plaster, our bodies and our will are iron, we do not bend. Malala’s heart is ours, she gives face and voice to our struggle, we are resolute in the face of hatred from desert sands to snow-topped mountain all hearts beating as one. _____________________________________ Shared on dVerse Poets Pub. More street art photos can be seen on my Flickr set “NOLA Street Art”. Continue reading Education. Equality.
is the color of my new dress, it can be dressed up with 4 inch heels for a night of fine dining and champagne or dressed down with daisy decorated flip-flops for walking in the sand with the salt of a Margarita on my lips, my hips swaying side to side within the gossamer froth of the soft blue fabric, turning my hazel eyes the color of the ocean, its skirt fluttering around my legs in a cool ocean breeze….. How can one have a bad day in a dress called Caribbean Blue? Continue reading Caribbean Blue
