Tag Archives: maps

Altered States

Posted on April 6, 2021 by whimsygizmo

I am at home everywhere, and nowhere. I am never a stranger and I never quite belong.    – Georges Simenon  Fold the map at the middle and you’ll find the places she’s lived:  born in Victorville, CAand then Florida (both coasts) by way of NC.  Oh,Ohio is … Continue reading →

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Refresher Courses

Posted on March 14, 2018 by whimsygizmo

.. Today, we will be reacquainting ourselves with the logarithms of this breeze, the angles of these trees and the squint of sunray-slant, perpendicular in the sky. Parlez vous francais? Me, neither. But the way the lavender is calling and … Continue reading →

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Keep This Under Your Hat

Posted on November 21, 2016 by whimsygizmo

… , that quiet place you hang your ………..(heart) home. Fold it over twice and press the crease against your unquiet skin. Against your lips. Against your ribs. Against you. For you might find its pros(e) and cons (its p’s … Continue reading →

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when the moon gives a less than subtle nudge

Posted on October 28, 2015 by whimsygizmo

.. when the sky has painted on her most blatant silver smile, dipped herself in indigo silk and inked her way to forever, when all these unabashed stars are connecting the dots and lending quiet constellations to my unmapped heart, … Continue reading →

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Cobbled in Ink and Indigo Sky

Posted on October 7, 2015 by whimsygizmo

.. How many miles has she walked now (barefoot, backwards, both ways), how many days until the next rest -stop? These feet are fueled by quiet psalm and howling prayer, dared to keep going by a sinking sun. She’s shed … Continue reading →

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Aerial View

Posted on December 8, 2014 by whimsygizmo

. She’s a mer -maid who’s been swallowed by the pinpoints of the map. She’s un -flapped by cranial tuna, ……..freeway flotsam and jets -aimed for better ………places, but the traces of high -way ink on her skin are holding … Continue reading →

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True North

Posted on November 21, 2014 by whimsygizmo

(Advice for the Directionally Challenged)   . When all other maps shred and the tread on your borrowed shoes has grown thin, spin the globe sideways. The beat of your own heart is best, the rhythm of your own caged … Continue reading →

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