I’m distributing
the wealth of my wisdom
in that real laissez-faire way.
Between blacks and whites,
My service? Is grey,
deliciously uninviting.
Uneager to please,
I fight friction with ease:
I take pictures.
I’m writing.
May 10, 2023
May 10, 2023 at 8:51 PM UTC
This King’s Road
My rose petal garden
As I pick myself up from my roots.
I shake and shiver,
Jitter and jive my way through
This living almanac of fate:
Some Velvet Morning in my cup
Of coffee,
Some luck,
And a mission to create.
May 9, 2023
May 9, 2023 at 6:40 PM UTC
I write in the mornings, first thing,
and I want my pens where I placed them last time.
Black ink, V5s.
And here I am scribbling with a marker
you got at that conference last summer in Hillside.
“2022” it reads.
“I’m sorry,” you say.
The soft words of your deposit
encourage my acceptance of their kindness
and suddenly,
There is new money
in this old bank.
I’m thankful for that.
I’m thankful for you,
this Great Design, and now
my pen inked blue.
May 9, 2023
May 9, 2023 at 6:18 PM UTC
The water on the ground
Is no longer fake,
As I take a look in the rearview.
Huh, I’m crying.
And it’s in this moment
I take a second
To accept the fact
I miss you.
Oh how I wish
I’d known,
Before driving
These backroads alone
My heart and soul
Are objects of old,
And bigger
Then they appear.
That this pathway to heaven
Gripped by desert horizon
Was just escape for a women
Who cannot function
And is blinded
By fear.
Well, that’s life.
I tried.
Goodbye.
I ride.
Until the end of time,
My dear.
Jan 21, 2023
Jan 21, 2023 at 9:42 PM UTC
She won’t yell
She won’t fight
or cry,
or scream.
I'll write.
You'll listen.
Let me tell you
What I mean.
Dec 30, 2022
Dec 30, 2022 at 8:48 PM UTC
The handbook of my heart
Is one
For the birds,
As I am
Because I do
When there simply aren’t words.
So Sunday’s swan song
These little loaves
of love—
A bread of pray
For a safe journey home
My sweet turtle dove.
Oct 11, 2022
Oct 11, 2022 at 3:43 PM UTC
Me and my journal
Got those old country blues.
Turns out,
White hot heat
Doesn’t make
for a 'Brown River, Smile'.
So,
I cried some.
Then bought eggs. And flour.
And sugar. And butter, for cake
And made one.
Because young life during hard times
In old country
Isn’t left with much else
to do–
Just make something beautiful
And hope to get through.
Jul 17, 2022
Jul 17, 2022 at 10:16 PM UTC
A maiden of winter
Born in dead weather
Looking at heaven in a sea of the sun.
Trading violent winds for violent heat,
Reflecting
In these violet hours of golden glows
And suddenly
Everything’s new.
Goodbye
stillness,
coldness,
soulless blue.
Jul 11, 2022
Jul 11, 2022 at 8:31 PM UTC
I don’t know much about god(s),
But I do know a lot about water.
And
If there is
A god
She was sitting right there in that bucket
Carried by Bly, carried with grace
And on the beads of her work
That streamed
down
her
face
Right to her smile.
Her smile.
So seemingly undeserved in the context
Of the situation,
But she taught me that.
And hope
And love
And to be patient.
Because this is one life
And they’ll “get theirs”
In the next one
But try to have faith
And give hard in this one
Because in the middle of all of it
You can’t control any of it
Except who you choose to be,
Regardless of what you’re working with.
So, while
I don’t know much about god(s),
I’d like to believe I do know plenty about me;
And I’m choosing to sit,
Forever, underneath a magnolia tree.
Apr 8, 2022
Apr 8, 2022 at 8:11 AM UTC
Sometimes it’s just nice, to not be nice
To not be inviting
To not be warm
Relief: that’s love.
Not having to perform,
Just be in my form
To not do anything about anything
When there is something in doing nothing
With people who despite everything, think
I’m everything.
Dec 26, 2020
Dec 26, 2020 at 12:48 AM UTC