My Writing
My collection of poetry, prose, and short stories
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I wish life was as soft as a bedtime story-Gentle tales about gentle lives. I wish the world was as simple as a fairytale,With clear distinctions between wrong and right. I wish that reality was as gentle as a lullabye,With the soothing notes soft as starlight. I wish you an eternity of peaceful dreamsThe sweet…
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I’ve always loved the wind. I love hearing it howl through the chimney like a restless spirit and tickle wind chimes like a fairy. I love watching it shake tree branches, and make leaves dance across the street. I love feeling it cool my skin on hot summer days, and steel my breath away in…
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Like the 3 faced goddess, I’ve lived 3 lives in one: see The maiden I was, the mother I am, And the crone I’ll become. The Circle of Life and the Wheel of Time Spin together as one. In an unending dance- It shifts like the moon and rises like the sun. Ever present in…
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I can’t concentrate long enough To write, or to paint. I long to create But I’m too tired to do more than stare at the blank page And imagine.
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I knew we didn’t have money, But I didn’t know we were poor- Until I ran out of fingers to count The number of pieces I returned. When we were playing a game, To check our privileged status And my hands were full of Empty air. A ledger of my societal debt.
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I am the unending night that swallows the day. I am the warmth of the cold sun before it fades. I am the glow of the moon on a frozen ground. I am the falling snow that muffles all sound. I am the north wind that bites, and the cardinal that sings. I am the…
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I wet the tip of my pen like dipping toes into the ink black sea. Knowing it would be best to jump in all at once, I wade in line by line, staring at the endless expanse before me. The surface is calm, intimidating in it’s emptiness that hides entire worlds waiting to be released.…
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I don’t know how I managed to talk him into visiting the old house with me, but somehow a week later, we met there. “Sorry I’m late.” His face was white and jaw clenched, but resigned as he got out of the beat-up pickup truck he parked just outside of the property line, as if…
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I’m obsessed with balance. Dualities and extremes, spectrums and shades of gray- it’s all related in my mind; Maybe because my life has always been imbalanced. Always unsteady and unstable, I’ve spent my whole life looking for a ground that won’t shift under my feet. Contrast and opposition are how many view the world. What’s…
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A poem a day,Some therapists say,Holds darkness at bay,And keeps madness delayed. A poem a day,The readers will say,helps the soul to conveywhat it’s hidden away. But, A poem a day,The writers all say,May keep the muses in sway,But won’t keep the bills paid.
Bringing Mae Flowers 