jackie-wilson
I've been writing since I was about 10. I'm primarily a poet, but I've published a book of short fantasy stories on Amazon (Elves, Bicycles, Unicorns and Other Fantasies--tinyurl.com/elves-bikes). I got an illustrator last year and we're going to re-publish them one story to a book, with illustrations this time. I've also written a novel, Square-Peg Life, which I just finished re-writing for the umpteenth time, but I think it's finally ready for publication. I've had 63 poems published in magazines and books, though I've yet to make any money from my poetry. Now that my novel is finished, I'm going back to what I do best--poetry.
little old bald-headed tree
stretches bare branches
into the sky,
drawing the universe
into its veins
to live again
come spring.
Dec 29, 2017
Dec 29, 2017 at 9:39 AM UTC
a torrential river of sadness
flows through me.
here and there
among the churning rapids
glint chunks of emotional gold:
happiness,
contentment,
fulfillment,
strength,
peace,
waiting to be caught
and hauled to the shore
of my consciousness.
Oct 19, 2017
Oct 19, 2017 at 5:25 PM UTC
high in the treetops
spindles of sun-gilded leaves
spin wind
into songs of the trees
to share
with the world.
Oct 19, 2017
Oct 19, 2017 at 4:58 PM UTC
bored leaves
play charades on their tree
with sun and wind,
becoming dark targets
of rustling emeralds
shot through with diamond bullets,
or lanterns
soothing the steel blue fear
of lowering clouds
with a soft glow of hope.
shears of sun
cut green tinfoil leaves
to shimmer around
a dance floor of wind
until evening
quietly melds
a puzzle of lumpy whispers
into a whole.
Aug 28, 2017
Aug 28, 2017 at 5:05 PM UTC
the *****
is an itch
that I could never scratch
until now.
Aug 28, 2017
Aug 28, 2017 at 5:00 PM UTC
butterfly, butterfly,
ready to emerge at last
from years of false starts,
breaking through blind threads
of the cocoon
that has always held you rigid,
struggling through old and brittle bonds
which will not easily unravel
into a trembling, mangled
earthquake of universe
with nowhere stable or still,
trying to keep your balance
to flutter through storm-tossed air
and moving debris
until you can find some place
to land
and take the next step
to metamorphose
into yourself.
Aug 14, 2017
Aug 14, 2017 at 5:09 PM UTC
the sun
of the present
breaks through the clouds
of the past.
Aug 14, 2017
Aug 14, 2017 at 5:01 PM UTC
young trees
gaze skyward,
their branches thick
with a visual feast
of floral shish kabob
prepared in sunshine
with a rain marinade,
a treat
of the season.
May 11, 2017
May 11, 2017 at 4:07 PM UTC
a cupped bush
holds a fresh-fallen sundae
of creamy new snow
topped with sprinkles
of tips and leaves.
Mar 28, 2017
Mar 28, 2017 at 4:43 PM UTC
framed in a roof window,
a tree
plays a symphony
of motion.
the trunk
conducts the separate sections
of branches and twigs and buds,
blending them together
into one harmony of movement.
Mar 28, 2017
Mar 28, 2017 at 4:40 PM UTC