M was never any Older than required. Often mistaken for a much younger woman, she Needlessly wondered the night. Buoyant she strolls down avenues unknown Occasionally stopping to admire the silence. Ushering past darkened doorways with a glance, it’s Non-consequential what’s behind them. Decency requires she be Carefully attired on her walks, past…
Tag: OctPoWriMo
my coming out poem (what happens when wanda is silent)
i have always known i was a poet in much the same fashion as another woman would recognize she is gay where others see quiet i hear words resonating from the base of my sole to the tip of the last lock i have always known i was a poet in the very same vein…
motherhood (a perfectly imperfect profession)
if he stopped every time i thought let’s savor this moment we would never make it to point b he is motion personified from eye opening hello to the lazy “drunk” slurs of his goodnights caught in the excitement sentinel off guard photos mostly blurred buzzes unable to keep up I stand awash in a…
autumn’s requiem
cinnamon’s scent lingers in air gone cold by summer’s goodbye replaced without protest the deliciousness of a deep stretch taken under covers made too warm by too long a nap in this dimension where day and night are balanced things seem to simply fall into place obligations and necessity meet each to do list with…
feminism, a poem
unprepared the unmitigated force of his emptiness leaves her speechless. ‘tell me what you think,’ a loaded question no one wants answered. especially, if this answer isn’t about me and how we are going to live happily ever after. he is after all here to save me from… molded, our boys become warriors. you specifically…
meditation, a morning indulgence
sky pregnant with dawn late mating cicadas screech singing wordless prayers i bath in this pre-day light hollowed out my mind a receptacle each breathe exultation i meet THEE here enamored in surrender let it be let it be love rises enfolding me kneading each limb i am renewed thank you the sweetest of praise…
i too shrugged, atlas
i too shrugged, atlas. carpools play dates stem in between piano lessons in too tight shoes carelessly dangling below exposed ankles yes, i too shrugged, atlas. in this house full of dust and the distinct smell of animal musk stepping over fur balls large enough to be named animated at sunrise yes, atlas, i shrug. meetings…
untitled, a memoir begins
i wait patiently in the pause before the big silence. i am lonely for me in the space left by a too big life. i want to unhinge my mind let down my thoughts and exhale. i miss the intimacy of being. how it feels to stretch beside a moment and etch that color sky…
OctPoWriMo 2014
I’m In.
fearfree living 