Tag Archives: past life poems

august and everything after

forgiveness comes injuts and startspieces,parts. and so does fear. here,questions unanswered,truths unsaid,his icy stare. there,a ragged hole in the wall;(not, quite)(not quite, yet)the last straw. just one more(sharp)tiny hole-punchto her heart. It’s Quadrille Monday over at dVerse, and I’m hosting. … Continue reading

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Ro. Sham. Beau. 

It was all fun and games            (dynamite, really) until one of us    (that would be me) hit rock                  (paper, scissors) bottom.  ::In April, we poem.

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repeat, after me 

in 1990, we said “i do.”  you didn’t. i did.  for several years i vowed to lie here another day.to make you stay. to make you pay. to get away.  ibid. ibid. ibid. :: Day 22 for NaPoWriMo.

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Study Hall & -Otes 

We’ve both got Biology homework and so we start there and Mr. G. is in charge of all us derelicts today any-way so if we have any questions, he’s here.  (Although he’s the one who always says “Better to keep your mouth closed and remaina fool … Continue reading

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Happy Trails 

Ainsley was only 3, and she called me ‘Misty,” because I guess when you’re 3 your preschool  teacher ‘Miss De’ sounds like ‘Misty.’ And she’d be about 38 years old now and sometimes I want to tell her I still feel Misty. … Continue reading

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two for the road

the night she finally (almost) left  1, 2 puts on the shoes  3, 4out the door  5, 6 in a fix  7, 8  too late, too late 9, 10 start over again   :: carry the 1  I got new rules; I count ’emI … Continue reading

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Seven years after she makes her escape

,  all she remembers is blood -red wine in fragile glasses,  and empty plates the color of bone.   ::twiglet #225

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Altered States

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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{The Moment I Most Likely Knew}

.. You headed hard for that horizon haze, leaving me with nothing but this harlot moon, and hints of stone.   .. In November, we poem.     

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Black & White

Got a photograph of a smile taken way back when we could smile. Now this plane will take me where, I don’t know… – Collective Soul   .. There’s a sepia tone smile somewhere in this drawer that says we … Continue reading

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