Wednesday, March 29, 2017

March 29, 2017 Poets United Midweek Motif/Just a Girl

Just a Girl

grow up in a world                   your opinion                            your ideas don’t matter

you’re just a girl                       your only value                        based on your appearance

better to look cute                    certainly best to be young         and not overweight

to age you don’t fair well          no need to take science            nor too much math

as in the yellow wall paper       writing will cause illness          what was a girl worth

grow up get married                 be a “good wife”                      and mother

learn to keep it to yourself        forget who you are                   or who you want to be

after all you are just a girl         someone’s wife                        someone’s mother

March 29, 2017          



                                   







Sunday, March 26, 2017

March 26, 2017 The Sunday Wordle #291 -- Sunday's Wirligig #104 -- Poets United Poets Pantry / Velvety Red

Velvety Red

velvety red on the shore           the surf reflects every color                  of flaming sunset

it is an audible outcry               a blinding scream                                 slip from my sandals

call your name                         scratch it on the sand                     washed away by the next wave

it has been months/years          it all happened long ago                       and yet

your tender touch                    remains in memory           like first sunshine & morning dew                               



i open the cask                         tears spill upon the ground                   become arroyos

in the dry foothills                    thoughts of you disappear                    like smoke

stir the stew                              there is no consolation                          for loss

a boulder                                 shaped like an elephant                          sits on my chest

i remain exhausted                   the story classic                        yet, the heart still beats

March 26, 2017




Sunday, March 19, 2017

March 19, 2017 Poets United Poets Pantry/ Impressionism/ The Theory of The Refraction and Optical Blending of Colors

Impressionism/ The Theory of The Refraction and Optical Blending of Colors

i hold the shell in my hand      press it into the sand       remove the shell

an impression remains in the sand     though the shell is removed     it is recreated in 

                                                                                         my mind



the scene is hazy                    no sharp edges                        shapes seem to dance

bleed into each other              is it a dream                            a thought/a memory



bright sunny summer days      lunch in a seaside cafe             people in colorful striped 

                                                                                          swimsuits

running into the water             falling into the waves              disappear


joie de vivie


sunday at the beach                  reflections on the water flash      women & children

collecting shells                        beach balls/sand buckets            colorful umbrellas



the sound of voices                  laughter & screams                   seagulls cry

shore birds                               strut up & down                        “life out of doors”




March 19, 2017





Wednesday, March 15, 2017

March 15, 2017 Poets United Midweek Motif/The Kindness of Strangers

The Kindness of Strangers

i can only say     i have never met a stranger that wasn't kind      perhaps it is because

there is no connection      it is all rather superficial                the kindness of strangers

why wouldn't a stranger be kind    they don't know you      most people don't just kick dogs

but can be cruel to the ones they say they love     it has happened      i have heard it said

there are those who treat their own pets      friends & family            in very unkind ways

who else would take it       who else would not walk away        keep coming back for more

i suppose there are reasons        though unknown to me         after all kindness is free

it really doesn't cost anything         and we all have it                     why not give it away

when i go out           i can be certain i will always find                 the kindness of strangers

perhaps there is an implied warning here    don't get too close         keep your distance

March 15, 2015



Sunday, March 12, 2017

March 12, 2017 The Sunday Whirl #290 --Sunday's Whirligig #102 --Poets United Poets Pantry/The Beasts and I

The Sunday Whirl #290 brims

Sunday's whirligig #102 blights


The Beasts and I

we sit in the circle       the beasts and i                    eating relish

sweet and tart              peeling bananas for the pudding         the broken levies

allow the tears to flow      like blood red rivulets                     down our cheeks

we listen to the story    as the flood waters rise            flash floods in the arroyos

there are no delusions      we all know how the story ends      we have heard it before

you think it is the curse     the weakness you feel        when you hear the tales of woe



zip, zap, zing         a new path is carved                                              a curtain falls

you wander haplessly       between the words                  examine the blank spaces

cry out                   a boon is granted                                 harlots come to the rescue

smoke curls from the chimney      winter's last blast                before spring's arrival

your heart broken          your life splintered                     bruises as dark as midnight

sorrow has reached its' brim    there will be no revenge      the blight has struck again

March 12, 2017












Wednesday, March 8, 2017

March 8, 2017 Poets United Midweek Motif/The Day of the Woman

The Day of the Woman

i got nothing... i am a woman always have been

for me everyday is my day I claim it no one tells me it is mine

is it possible others are just catching up by naming a day of the year

the day of the woman does that make other days someone else's day

or is everyday our day we will be just the same our stitches just as small

we stand just as tall as on any other day monday through sunday


women join the parade make themselves visible yet how does it help women

to have a day of their own from this day forward will they be treated equally

will they be paid equally for their work treated with respect

today is the day of the woman she is more than half of the population

still so much work to do yes they are different but they are equal on anyday

March 8, 2017






Sunday, March 5, 2017

March 5, 2017 The Sunday Whirl #289 -- Sunday's Whirligig -- Poets United Poets Pantry/ No Longer a Farmer



No Longer a Farmer

i no longer pretend to be a farmer      my garden has gone au naturel      now

                                                                                                  it is words i cultivate

i plant ideas           forming and feeling them                    hopefully my harvest 

                                                                                                  will be poems

the endeavor will yield no profit      i study seed catalogs        grammar books

study english syntax            look for missing links                   and metaphors



i have no crystal ball         what is ahead is unknown               i remain right here

have no sense of the future        i eye the debris               accumulated on the portal

the stains from the leaks        run down the temple walls        somethings cannot be 

                                                                                                    changed


the past disappeared in smoke        left no trace                 no track to follow

try to balance what is past            what will come              where i place my feet

look for secure footing                 while making today      out of yesterday's leftovers

we rode the sled down the hill      on the only day it snowed    it all comes back

in bits and pieces                          i swing the bat                       miss the pitch

i have no power to erase mistakes     yesterday is set                  cannot be changed

March 5, 2017