Monthly Archives: December 2013

Into the Blue




Pigtails and polyester skirts, dreams as big as the sky

Believed she’d ride in hot air balloons, meet the perfect guy

Rose-colored glasses, worn until her eyes shaded pink

A grown woman now, in a dark corner with a drink, unsatisfied

To ride the tide of someone else’s wave, embittered

Shadows follow her from her heart’s shallow grave;


Singularly unable to understand her metered path, distance

Between the reasons, beyond the reach of her grasp;

An insignificant bubble in a stream of carbonated dreams,

Floating down an open drain to an unforgiving sea



(photo credit: <a href=””>NomadicStateOfMind</a&gt; via <a href=””>photopin</a&gt; <a href=””>cc</a&gt;)

Where the Words Come From




I know what pens the words, the fuel that feeds the fire

I smile, I sing and do everything like every face in every crowd

Inside the demons roar, they call to me to bleed

Weeping, the tears fall, and I’m alone in my own heart

There is no bravery in my soul; I am a broken doll


Whose eyes refuse to close; sadness breaks the dawn

Under a sun that always shines, and I put on my plastic

Smile to be whatever, whomever the day requires


(photo credit: <a href=””>Kema Keur</a> via <a href=””>photopin</a&gt; <a href=””>cc</a&gt;)

In a Poetic Pod




We are among the broken, those defined by a

shattered heart, listless soul; our loneliness,

subtle as the fragrance of Spring,

spreads across the ether; letters of black on

pages of white, rhymes that beat to an unknown

rhythm, graceful almost if not for the truth

of their inability to matter; except to Us,

the jagged edges of our existence

Fit, those of you and those of me,

a bewildered puzzle


What is that you say? No, I am

undefiled in you; no embittered

cry for explanation where our affection

resides, almost Holy in a sacrilegious way;

I’m sorry if I giggle when you tease me…

my joy is in the freedom you provide



(photo credit: <a href=””>Cindee Snider Re</a> via <a href=””>photopin</a&gt; <a href=””>cc</a&gt;)





Impatience circles about me,

I crave the electric current of life;

One moment still haunts, drifts

out of the shadows from time to time

to remind me why I am unsated;


The labor room, a newborn in a bassinet,

my body exhausted until the soul began

to pull away; no angels there to greet me,

no demons, either;…still haunts…

Not the leaving, but the complacency of the spirit…

unconcerned with letting go…


In the remaining pools of my existence I hunger

for the splash of life’s vibe, and in this I am




(photo credit: <a href=””>abbybatchelder</a&gt; via <a href=””>photopin</a&gt; <a href=””>cc</a&gt;)

Perdu Liaison



Some things aren’t meant to be

As nature often shows

There are no leaves on the winter tree,

No sun where the fern grows

We can want to suffering for one another’s touch

We can say anything, won’t amount to much

Nothing really lost, except a hungry need

Matters little for those who don’t choose love,

Our hearts rarely bleed

You’ll go your way, and I’ll go mine

Little ripples in the water stilled by time

Lamentation, a new fragrance on the wind

An imperfectly perfect pair who only knew ‘the end’