Wednesday, May 30, 2018


I never knew
if the glass horses were best
alchemy or indian summers
the waterfalls of words were chaos

It was wonderful
and then it took you

I liked you in your cowgirl hat
you called us family
I think unfriendliness was rare for you

and though I knew you little
it's what I will believe

If you are the inspiration
for poems and beautiful images
let me thank you endlessly

I have looked up to you
so if words will reach you where you are
I hope you hear what I write for you
the small echo of what you gave to the world


Tuesday, May 29, 2018

Some Real Talk

I don't often write about my personal life on here, mostly just snippets that are my thoughts or new poems. What I want to do today is try to relate some things about my life in what I guess I'd call more of a regular blog way. No promises I'll be any good- it's been a while since I put a lot of focus into a blog. That's not always a bad thing, it means I've also been working on other pursuits outside of the web like developing my art skills!

What happened today that led to this post was the birth of a new poem- but I guess I should start with some backstory. While I'm an outstandingly average person, I do have one really mundane super power which is my ability to get goosebumps when I listen to certain music. As lame as that looks when I write it out, it gets pretty cool.

If you've heard of ASMR, you'll know that it's been described as a tingling sensation over the scalp and down the spine when people hear certain sounds like crinkling paper, or whispering. I'm familiar with that reaction, but only felt it when having my hair braided or brushed. I've tried listening to different types of ASMR videos and they don't work for me.

I mention all this so you'll understand why it seems so unusual, at least to me, that after my inspired poem-scribbling moment was over, I got the same rush of tingles and goosebumps.
Because I'm a little vain, I've looked up the music-goosebump-thing in the past and read that it's been connected to how people relate emotionally to certain triggers, like ASMR or certain music, but nothing that I could find to explain why it only happens to certain people.

So, my superpower remains mundane but if ever the world is in peril and I'm the one who can save it by getting goosebumps, you can count on me. I have some pretty solid songs to fall back on, and if today indicates anything, maybe a poem or two.

If you've read this and you get the same reaction, or have thoughts about it I'd love to hear from you. Not much traffic gets to this site but I'll be posting bits to my Twitter and Instagram so who knows?

Here's the poem to reflect on. As always, dear cousin, I think of you

                                                                                    scatter me far off
                                                                                    beyond the shore, among the heather

                                                                                    remember me with smoke and sage
                                                                                    recall our mysteries in
                                                                                    every breath and sigh of wind

                                                                                    in the ocean roar and the quiet hush
                                                                                    that comes before the thunder

                                                                                    think of me
                                                                                    brave and daring on your journey

                                                                                    know that I am with you always 

Sunday, May 20, 2018

My poet Hall

I watch the milk swirl in to temper our coffees,
his two shades darker

Like our arms, his one day tan rivaling
a summer's worth of mine

Like his eyes, honey-bright in the full sun
dark and serious in the evening

Sometimes they shine from the light he carries within
Love and happiness


Thursday, May 10, 2018

The Maelstrom

The Maelstrom

Creaking, groaning,
timbers quaked
And I stood frozen to the deck,
my bones bare to the icy rain.
The benevolent god shone upon us no more.

Mercy was the water that swallowed us.
To ship and sailor laid waste
a kindness that stole the life from our lips
and left us gasping on the shore,
born into new wakening.

Tuesday, May 1, 2018



commanding my thoughts

the tempest that you are

breaks upon me like waves

but the surf carries with it

bits of the shore each time 

until the two are one

how can you be yet unscathed?