Your bottomless heart has enough space to make willingness your constant companion, to feel fear without shutting down, to show tenderness in time of trouble. Don’t let life shrink it. —————- Image by Lilian Auduong on Google+ Continue reading Morning Meditation 11/17/14
“People are like cities: We all have alleys and gardens and secret rooftops and places where daisies sprout between the sidewalk cracks, but most of the time all we let each other see is is a postcard glimpse of a skyline or a polished square” ~ Hilary T. Smith, Wild Awakening Continue reading People are like cities
You taught me how to shave my legs, the downy almost invisible blonde strands of silk falling to the razors swath, the last vestige of a child’s body helpless against the vanity of a teenagers critical eye. But I loved you, that summer, loved your shiny pageboy flip, your tweezed eyebrows and ice pale lips. You were sophisticated in a way I didn’t understand but coveted. Shaving my legs was only the beginning. Continue reading Summer of Mary
Disjointed dreams widen the cracks in a shifting foundation. Digestion creeps by degrees beneath the eroding surface swallowing right and wrong, skewing the underpinnings, cracking the ribcage, scattering rocks around disillusioned hearts. Continue reading Transitioning
Once again, left where you don’t belong Scrunched up into a wrinkly wannabe cloud filled with snot and skin flakes or smears of mayo and spit, glaring forlornly at me glaring pissed offedly at you. When left to marinate in phlegm and fluids on bedside tables and kitchen countertops you start to multiply like earthworms that procreate by having sex with themselves. Hell, you already have the lube so why not use it? Continue reading Mucus Rags
Piddling around the kitchen on a rainy Spring morning, washing the French press, feeding the dogs (Sam barking his megaphone bark and Peggy Sue prancing) and lightly swaying to horns and drums on the radio, thinking of birthday cakes (store-bought or home-made?) and loitering on a park bench with a view of Isidore’s sculpture and rumbling streetcars (a favorite spot) among cake crumbs and milk In May, an impending anniversary (smiles) plans of lunch at Commander’s and a melon martini (or two) then, a leisurely waddle down Pyrtania among the oaks and lacy ladies standing proud on their lawns of … Continue reading Kitchen Thoughts
Should we climb the wall grasping with blind fingers and toes for love cracks clinging to sweetness turned to dust in our moldy mouths Should we drag our anger and our blue acquiescence, bloodied, over a cat tongue rack for misplaced hope cooled to lifeless ash Or should you go your way and I’ll go mine spraying splats of graffiti bile and trailing yellow streaks behind us Continue reading Up To Down
warm fluid trickles over body slick and porous glistening like dew on the edge of twilight supple skin rises through viscous blood and the crackle of bone lives, dies, then sloughs away Continue reading Organic
when the dried, healed scab comes off the new pink skin underneath glows like a beacon of hope Continue reading Renewal
