Category Archives: Poetry

Poetic offerings from a wide awake woman.

Double Bonded Oxygen

(circa 1998)

purple people don't try to fly
they just do
of course,
when they are lost
in the parking lot
of Pennsylvania

especially when
they are
the elusive

shhhh!! be vewy vewy quiet

when the storm comes
reach out your hand
to me
and lift me
into your boat

we are
aimlessly floating
through a sea of thoughts
and fears

until the sun comes up
once again
too early in the morning

i must tell you that i love you
with every double bonded oxygen atom in my body

...and then some

sporadic bursts of words appear
infiltrating my sleepy brain
until nothing makes sense

and i'm not quite sure
everything seems so clear


daring adventurer
dancing the flames
of my own undoing
dancing the flames
of my own resurrection

in to

what awaits me?
that which is behind me
i no longer need

you thought i was further along…
i thought i was catching up
i was catching fire

burning alive
by my own virtue
burning alive
from my own passion

from ashes i rise

The Goddess of Loring Park

Screen Shot 2019-05-24 at 6.47.40 PM
i met a goddess the other day
as i was walking
in Loring Park
she caught me quite by surprise
i couldn’t quite place who she was
(at first)
standing there,
by the pond
arms reached to heaven
in some sort of dance
she spoke to me
in a language i could not hear
or understand
yet felt deeply in my bones
maybe you have seen her
met her
talked to her, too
if not…
if you like
i can take you to the place
where Freya lives
as a tree
in Loring Park


Image credits:
Main image:
Body image:

Gate 6

I lay this heartache
on the bare-bones altar
of all my dreams

I scream in vain
A question echoing through
the empty walls of my heart

No one will answer…..

No one can.

[Image Credits]
[Retrieved from:]

Like a Weed

I hope the seed I am
grows like a weed:

Without any reverence for where I’m supposed to grow
or where it would be more convenient.

Finding the cracks and tiny spaces in everything;
spreading my particular kind of beauty
in the most unlikely places.



Image credit:

My Next Bold Move

I need something familiar

some solid ground

where I can find my feet

I need something tangible

something to wrap my hands

or my head


some kind of guidepost

safe guard

security blanket

I want to stay

everything screaming to run

I want to run

everything screaming to stay

hanging on the precipice

of my next bold move


image credit: by Rafaelll90 in Manipulations, discovered on



I see you with her
so tender
so indescribably sweet

love pours from every fiber of your being
a miracle before my eyes
I ache with regret
all the way to my soul

those precious little moments break me
a million pieces
scattered in every conceivable direction
you are so in love with her

and I…

I have missed my chance to swim in the ecstacy of every coo
to marvel at each imperceptible milestone

I missed your first kiss – off chasing dragons

that’s the price I pay for being too selfish
or maybe too sick
to notice tender moments incubating miracles
the price when
from conception
a child is an inconvenience

I didn’t even know what I was missing

I do now.

my only salvation
is to feel this exquisite heartbreak
writhing between longing and ecstasy
knowing that this shattering
is that love


Photo credit:


Life creeps in around me
and I weep

I feel out of place
my own star
dim by comparison.

the collective looks so beautiful
there in its other world
colors twirling, unfurling

cracks in the wall,
even the ones that enclose me.

eyes down in grief,
transformative beauty before me;
the evolution that would happen
should I raise my glance
to meet its eye

aye, face down
I weep
and life creeps in around me.

image credit: Shadowscapes Tarot

New Photosynthesis

It was summer 2001.  California was suffering perhaps the largest blackout in history, which started late 2000.  Politicians were all over the news talking about conservation.  It sounded more like an empty prayer for political support than real hope. The US was at war in Afghanistan.

I was listening to a lot of Ani DiFranco, working in an extremely conservative environment, and finding hints of mySelf playing peek-a-boo from behind the walls of a paradigm that wasn’t really mine.

In my usual sardonic tone, this crept out the end of my pen…

New Photosynthesis

The parking lots have begun to photosynthesize
And the air out there, well it smells real nice
A better version of grass has taken hold
But the kids don’t mind cutting it as much as the old
We cut trees away from the power lines
The squirrels and the birds are doing just fine
But the folks in Californ-I-A
Can still only see by the light of day

The man on the hill cries conservation
To a crazy, confused, and misled natioin
Captivated by every word,
Believing the truth is what they heard
But the folks in Californ-I-A
Can still only see by the light of day

The White House is still white
And the politicians are too
At least from what we can see
By the liberating things they do
Equality and freedom were the promise
White christian male the default premise

Thank God for those old blues guys from Mississippi
And the generation that invented the hippie
Or we’d  be up to our ears without any soul, brother
And in a war over a war that was fought for another

Oh yeah, we are.

******************************************************************************Photo credit:, Hippie Movement, pinned from