
She Thought Perhaps Azalea
#blacklivesmatter Continue reading She Thought Perhaps Azalea
#blacklivesmatter Continue reading She Thought Perhaps Azalea
This morning I woke up with a song in my head, and it’s a good one. It’s the one I blast in my car on the way to Poetry Slam. It’s the one I sing along to and throw little girl-power dance parties to in the parking lot outside the pizza place where the Slam is held once a month. My fellow poet ladies … Continue reading The Soundtrack of our Lives
Or rather, we have a friend coming over this afternoon, and so the boys are cleaning, and I am cleaning, and we are all getting distracted by the things we are supposed to be putting away. I’m straightening my bedside table, and finding books of poetry that should be leafed through if only for a moment after I’ve dusted them, before stacking them neatly … Continue reading Because Cleaning is so Distracting
What does it mean to sink down deep Into who you are and speak your truth And be yourself, and have your own Moment of HOWL, to sound your own Barbaric Yawp over the rooftops of the world? It may mean to say without thinking, Recite without reading, or read Without looking up once because The words on the page and you are one, … Continue reading Sink Down Deep
It seems as if the geese could bump into each other in this mist, each screeching into the void sounding out to the others calling the way forward southward, onward toward the next season, the next warm nest. I can’t see to the end of my driveway, fog hanging in white, billowing curtains, pulling me into the story, some elegant myth, where rooms are … Continue reading Days of Soup and Holler
Did I ever show you this handmade gift from Benjamin this year? Talk about a gift that went straight to my heart. I have never cried more over a present in my life. That he knew my deepest desire, and created something to represent me getting that artistic need fulfilled… If you look closely, there are tubes up on the stage to put each of … Continue reading Open-Mic Poetry Gathering
These photos are all from the 2009 show, Strengthen Me with Raisins. Back in 2007, I performed my very first Poetry Show as part of the Rogue Festival in Fresno, CA. I was 39 years old, and I floated away from my first Standing Ovation, not physically touching the ground. These are the shows I did back in California. 2007 – Come Now I Will Test … Continue reading Throw-Back Thursday: Another Year, Another Show
There is a picture circulating of a little girl in an Iraqi orphanage, who misses her mother, so she drew a chalk outline of her mom, curled up within the lines and fell asleep inside her mother. This stopped me cold. I don’t ever want to be too tired to tell a bedtime story again, for as long as I live, for as long as my … Continue reading Heartbeat – Poetry for dverse
In the dverse poets pub tonight, the topic is trees and Under The Canopy, which fills me with love and light. That is what we do! We care for trees. (A memory from long ago when I was in school – and now I have my own!) Across a field from the dorms, a hike, up a hill, and lost, or nearly, we trudged until … Continue reading Picnic Tree
Sometimes I shatter; break into pieces and scatter across the floor. My tiny shards reflect light in odd patterns on the wall and once again I am something shiny. I remember a spark, I remember a brilliance, I point with awe. We do this dance of bright things to dung hills and back again; excitement and despair. The mysteries, the mundane, … Continue reading Downbeats of Defiance
If I could see what you see; the finished project from a pile of scraps. The angles and lines and tiny details, wheels within wheels that leap from your mind; the magic you create. I run along beneath you as you soar – holding ropes or guide lines. Trying to offer some balance; tiny morsels of grammar tucked in between your gears and pulleys, A … Continue reading I Run Along Beneath You
Wouldn’t it be nice to every once in awhile, sluff off the old things that we are holding onto, or that are holding onto us, the attitudes that define us, the thoughts that won’t grow up? The boys’ Alligator Lizard shed it’s skin yesterday. It seemed like a very cool thing. Something we should learn about in more detail, come Science Night, but it wasn’t until this … Continue reading Shedding our Skins
This time is the time I feel closest to the page; here, at this table, with a warm cup of coffee, now, in the wee hours, dark all around me, sun not ready to peak over the ridge for several hours, children still tucked into bed, silent for these few hours. Silence. Golden. Shimmering. Silver-plated. Polished. Vibrant. In a few more minutes, there will be … Continue reading This is the time I feel closest to the page
It’s like a fireworks: well, no, it’s really like a Persian rug.” Rainer Maria Rilke It is a comfort that even great writers fumble over themselves to find words to describe loveliness in nature. This morning I sat back and watched as Rilke stumbled to describe a few twigs of heather included in a letter. I don’t mean, he fell down, but his heart and … Continue reading Come here, You!
There is nothing like the smell of fresh Rosemary fresh between fingers, fresh from the garden, dirt under nails from digging, dirt on knees; you could say from praying, but it isn’t, really. Unless praying is cooing to the plants doing well, inhaling deep to fill the lungs, and knowing each miracle of bud unfurled is another occasion for wonder. Worn, green fingers smell of tomato plants, mix … Continue reading All this Talk of Rosemary and Religion