Posts

Poem: Put Words to How You Feel

Write what comes from the heart and let your soul have a voice that wellspring of feeling that bubbles within your chest and the flood of ideas that clamor to be free honor the time and the place see the ripples of the words touch every corner of your universe.

Poem: Chemistry

two particles float through the ether seek yet not find time has no meaning they move yet are static but somehow, some way they find themselves in each other's space neither asks how or why it happens it just does they dance in an orbit tentative but daring opposites attract  same ones repel  who knows  if the reaction  will be explosive

Poem: Elegy

Writing prompt on Bluesky. Write an elegy. A song for what was  a fragile flower  nurtured from seed  to soft bud  that spread its petals  to greet the sun  in a brief moment of glory  in the warmth of Life  but gone too soon  as the winter's snows  fall on the ground  and the leaves  fall weeping  to mourn.

Poem: The Patron Saint of Ordinary

She doesn't claim  to be a saint she's only yet  another sinner  don't put her  upon a pedestal don't sing hymns that extol her virtues don't erase all of her vices don't sanitize the life she has led to justify the morals you wish to enforce.

Poem: Winter's Web

Spider's web in a beam of sunlight adorned with morning dew and glistens with late December frost the wind tries to uproot it but the silk strands hold fast where is  the current occupant or is it just waiting for a new one to move in when spring arrives?

Poem: Writerly Doubts

Sometimes I wonder: does anyone read what I put on the page? do my words ever make a difference? Am I wasting my time as I tap on my keyboard my fingers cramp up every hour, every day? I have a voice  that must be heard my characters have stories but what if the audience is Just me? Will I be one of those  whose words make an impact only after I am dead? At that point, I wouldn't give a damn. Should I scream louder Defy the algorithm Be bold and obnoxious Scatter my energy? Or should I just write let my ideas tell the tale And my truth ring true even if no one cares? My writer's heart wonders.  

Poem: She is All Grown Up Now

She wants the keys to the car but I still see her as she sits at the table with her plushies all around and asks me to pour tea into tiny plastic cups as she plays hostess in a princess dress and wears a crown upon her head.