Monthly Archives: February 2014

Poet, Plucked from Sea

  Scribbling phrase, she stays sane, holds court with hum -ming birds, holds albatross at bay. Weather the mourning sun, wither the wings but fly anyway, on a whirlwind of words waging battle with the empty page, the scattered plague … Continue reading

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Poet’s Sleep

Poet’s Sleep, 1989, by Chang Houg Ahn    . Keep my place, please. I’ll be back. It’s only shut eye that I lack, just a moment more. Score one for the skeletons in my closet, outside my window pane. They’re … Continue reading

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Only Half Past the Point of No Return

. See that fat old moon? She’s waiting for us to find something faster than these tired skins. Throw a fist full of glitter in the air, and watch its constellations light the sky, ask a million questions; why we … Continue reading

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My Goodness,

.. But she can’t find the end of her story, can’t feel the buzz of glory above all this din. She spins words on their tails but somehow fails to give them any solid, silent place to begin. Give her … Continue reading

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Scrambled

.. High horse not with -standing, the week’s blown off course somewhere ’round midday Wednesday, cloudy with a chance of total chaos. Stick a pin a sock a fork in it, same deal. (with nary a peep from the peanut … Continue reading

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Mix & Match

. If I hold a boom box over my head outside your window and play “In Your Eyes” so loud the neighbors call the police, will you love me? If I hire a more worthy wordsmith, perhaps with an inordinately … Continue reading

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See Here

. The wages of sin -cere thinking, my dear, are wavy at best. Frame -d or not, you’ll get your day in court …..-ship, safe harbor, flailed sails flying. Thank you for your support patience patronage service time      ….(party foul) … Continue reading

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Spicy Pavement

My driveway’s feeling saucy, man -go habanero, to be exact. Wash it all down in rivers, mourn heat lost, shattered shards of nothing gained. …Opened the back hatch of my SUV after a Costco run yesterday, and an entire bottle … Continue reading

Posted in Food poems | 3 Comments

Palming Psalms

… Perhaps if I press them into my hand, I’ll remember I’m a girl who’s fearfully, wonderfully made of something more than all this crazy whirl. Maybe if I mold them into my skin, I’ll remember to sink in and … Continue reading

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Brushing Nightfall

… Run your fingers through this sky, Love. Rake it loose and long, star -light tresses spilled beyond, where they belong. Make raven ebony ring -lets your plea, as the moon braids her golden strands into the sea.   .. … Continue reading

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