August 4, 2009

At times, my life was a landscape,
Designed and defined
By wheat-colored, stilled flat lands
Stretching for endless miles,
along a simple plane.
My life at times was a slow pace
Of gradual ascent
Towards a sandstone plateau
Overlooking impassable peaks and low-lying valleys.
Riverbanks overflowing from tears,
Raged alongside
The soft carpeting of springy, green grass
just beyond my reach,
where lavender-colored flowers bent to the wind’s call
and red-breasted songbirds answered in unabashed celebration.

My life is becoming
A series of jagged,
Roughened, wind-worn edges
Of slips, dips, slides and glides
Along its changing horizons.
The pebbles under my feet –
Small annoyances left behind long ago.
The stones in my shoes –
My burdens along this beaten path.
Boulders – some granite, others made of
weathering sandstone,
Are my constant worries:

Am I good enough?
Am I smart enough?
Am I loved enough?

Navigating this mountain
I remind myself to breathe in deeply
To fill my body with life’s experiences
And oxygen to feed my slowly healing soul.

I scan the horizon above, beside and below me:
Above– the freedom to think, to be, to allow, to accept
Beside– less frequent boulders continue to block  my path ahead
Below– more pebbles and stones awaiting my weary feet

Then will I begin my descent down the other side
Stopping only when my journey ends at the place where
I find that bright, green, spring-filled meadow of
safe, soft grass.
Where I can dance,
Unencumbered and unabashed,
among the yellow buttercups and flittering butterflies,
Bare-footed and finally free.


To All Of You Who Feed My Soul

July 17, 2009

Reading all these poems
Makes me a  happier girl
I enjoy them all.

The Toy Box

July 16, 2009



Product Warnings:

Contains some small parts not suitable for children.

Some objects might be sharp — proceed with caution.

Some objects are fragile – handle with care – do not crush, stomp, mutilate or destroy.

Potential side effects include, but are not limited to: snorts, chuckles, laughs, smiles, tears, frowns, sighs, gasps.

The owner assumes no liability for any side effects you might experience from playing with the contents inside this toy box.


July 14, 2009

I hate the freapin DMV
They are so very rude to me
With all that  superiority
I hate the freapin’ DMV

I hate the freapin’ UPS
They make my dog
a neurotic mess
They cause me so much
undue stress
I hate the freapin’ UPS

I hate the freapin’ garbage men
they clear my mess again and again
Oh wait…forget it, I understand
I love the freapin’ garbage men!


July 13, 2009

Math, to me
is living hell
Just what is meant
by  “parallel”?

And shouldn’t it be
to recitate in
pure Quadratic?

Nothing makes
me buckled-knee
more than:
“a” plus “b” must equal “c”

I know I know
You silly goose
I see that simple

To add
or multiply
It takes
no genius
to verify

But when it comes
to long division
Why, this math
I think of you
with such derision!

Before It Starts

July 13, 2009

Black embers glint
off shattered glass slags

quicksand slowly consumes
his carefree soul

blood thickens in chambered room
now devoid of empathy

for himself and others.

I imagine this must be
how it feels,
right before the shooting starts.


July 12, 2009

Two souls


simultaneously diverging


and merging

along parallel points

Yet never touching

Merely thinking

words sent

from their common muse.