I don’t remember the first poem I ever read, but I have vivid memories of the first poems I heard. My mother read from the Little Golden Book of Poetry. The images hidden in the words took me to far-off lands, and the rhymes filled my young head with music. [...]
“Thirty days has September, April, June, and November.” 30 Days of Poetry The perfect number for any 30-day challenge, but April’s poetry marathon of 30 poems in 30 days consumed every creative moment I could squeeze into those days. Will I make this an annual event? Last year I [...]
I'm Done I’m done. I’m never going back. I’m irrevocably done. My words haunt the silence as old skin wrinkles, writihing against unwelcome habits, obsolete ways of thinking. I want to shed what no longer serves me. I need change. I am done with the past. I am done [...]
Why Do I Worry? Why do I worry? The future frightens— full of uncertainty. Why is there so much uncertainty? I am no clairvoyant or crystal gazer clearing the dust, revealing an unknown future. Why is the future unknown? I’ve heard the past no longer exists, has no substance [...]
Flashback Photos flashback in time to a youthful sailor blue eyes and a beguiling smile— Grandpa. Years pass four daughters laugh he walks each down the aisle paving the future with new hope— joyful. Twenty grandchildren come some share his coal-black hair all learning lessons of family— loving. [...]
“Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.” — Howard Thurman Come Alive With pencil and tablet, I walk out to the pasture around grandma’s house keeping an eye open [...]
Birds Singing Birds singing— I follow the sound to find joy . . . Poetry is eternal graffiti written in the heart of everyone. —Lawrence Ferlinghetti To receive my blog posts in your inbox, contact me. Simply put SUBSCRIBE in the subject line. Every Saturday, I also send [...]
Wind Blows Wind blows dandelions send life floating onward words spoken leech into our lives touching. . . . Poetry is the best words in the best order. —Samuel Coleridge If you are a writer, you know the feeling when words float in the air unwilling to move [...]
Living on the Edge Tumbling head first off the jagged rocks into an unknown abyss feet flailing, arms reaching empty-handed into the air. I do not like the edge. Heart beats fast as sweat finds a home between skin and sheets. In the darkness, I ponder the consistent recurring [...]
I dwell in things possible I dwell in things possible Of poems more than prose Where all the world’s A window letting in Where doors send out The pines stare with Impregnable eyes Searching for rooftops In the gambrels of An open Sky Oh, should visitors Embrace this invitation [...]
