Sunday, December 18, 2011

From Whence Come I

Guide me once gain,
dear muse

Deep into the wild
wherein lay my ancestry
abiding amongst the clover
upon the mystic Highlands

Where the goats do graze
and aye the zephyr's breeze
blazens my cheeks ablush

To step upon the grasslands
cradled with soft mosses
framed with black eyed suzies
and amber stalks of rye

Take me away as before
touch the golden silence
embrace the heart's own rhythm
befriending the seeds of life

Guide me once again,
dear love


Tuesday, November 15, 2011

The Cricket

A cricket sat upon
My golden glasses' rim
He looked me in the eye
And I looked back at him

His eyes were big and round
One eyelid blinked a wink
I gazed at him and asked
"What is it that you think?"

He bobbed his head, stroked his legs
Playing a solemn tune
Then he answered wisely
Beneath the silver moon

"My life it may be short
Yet I work day and night
My melodies I play
With great purpose and delight

For those in wood and town
The two-legged creatures great
Reminding them that if I cease
They'll know it is too late."

He hopped right off my glasses
And sauntered to the trees
At night now when I hear him
I bow upon my knees

september 15, 2oo7

My friend Brian, designed an awesome art piece based on this poem. Then his mom-in-law quilted it.

Click here to see the artful phases to "The Cricket" Knot.

Click here to see more of Brian's Knots.


Below are images of the finals of "The Cricket."

Click here for more: The Cricket Knot by Brian Collis

Click here for more: The Cricket Quilt by Brian's mother-in-law

Tuesday, November 1, 2011


Prowling in veneer
Camouflage of empathy
Words of deceit
Laced with honesty
Dripping with sincerity
Twined with humor
Cloaking devices

Prey uncloaked
Desiring to trust
Trust won

Back stab
Daggering the prey
Prey dazed, confused

Six months pass
Prey empowered
Enough to speak her truth
Out loud

Predator pounces
Spewing lies
Without remorse
Pseudo-righteous cause
Character assassination
Prey shell-shocked, disbelief

Prey again speaks aloud
Predator's mask cracks

Then the whitewash
No accountability

Prey wounded, stifled
Soul violation
No roll call
Another non-person
Deja vu

Monday, October 31, 2011

One Piece of Trash

I saw a piece of trash
on the ground today.
I could have walked right by
and let that litter lay.

I paused a moment, looked around,
as people quickly passed.
Reaching down I wondered,
why do we move so fast?

Maybe folks will notice
when the litter is a heap.
I hope we soon slow down
before it gets too deep.

april 11, 2007

Saturday, October 22, 2011


(Warning: language content)

I scoop poop
That's what I do
Day in, day out
Baggies with poo

Ridding the earth
From four-legged

To all the two-legged
Who use others as

I curse the air
You breathe

With velvet-cloaked dagger
You slice
Faux righteousness as
Your cause
Deed exacted, harm complete
You feign all is well
Moving on to your next
You whitewash
Dipping your brush in
You cleanse and sanitize

Curse every one of you
Whores and bastards

If a hell exists
May you be consumed
By a slow burn

Until then
May all your days
Be bathed by masturbation

I prefer the
Bestowed by four-legged

egest - to discharge, as from the body; void (opposed to ingest)
egesta - matter egested from the body, as excrement or other waste


Just a bit peeved at liars and thieves and manipulators.

I despise cover up, despise it with a passion.
It happens all the time, every little things and large. All over this planet.

I hope to not grow cynical and to find gratitude for the good and to keep a tender heart in spite of the continual drippings of deceit that surround.

What prompted my anger was when I heard of yet another story of corporate downsizing (in a sleazy manner). It was the straw on the camel's back after the past year of an initially misdiagnosed ongoing drug-induced injury with no accountability on the pharmaceutical end; after mental health therapist abuse with no accountability and then the therapist publicly lying about it and me (and others) and then apparently running from the state and then what appears to be trying to erase the harms; after my car and bike get stolen from a garage and the waiting game not knowing if the garage will take any accountability; not to mention the residual leftover debris of previous years and decades.

One drip at a time to try to crust the heart.

It's the no accountability, the hush factor, that pisses me off. Gawd it can make my blood boil.

Now onto laughter and good stuff...I hope.

Tuesday, October 18, 2011


At the gas pump
the screen asks
"Would you like a receipt?"
I push a button

In my palm
on the screen
"4" appears
in a little app circle
With my stylus
I tap the circle

The screen asks
"Would you like
to update?"
With my stylus I tap

The screen states
I have to sign into
my account
With my stylus
I tap in my password

The screen states
I have to agree
to the new contract
Sixty-four pages
I read the first line
With my stylus
I tap
wondering what
I agree to

In the checkout line
the screen asks
if the amount is correct
I press


New and improved
All behind

Face Odds

Trust eludes me

Once I believed
humans were basically good

Once I believed
people were altruistic

I tended
to take folks
face value

Trust is ever decreasing
as thieves,
masked manipulators,
disguised liars
reveal their
true facial contours
while trying
to save

I think I need
to learn
to read
more clearly


Friday, August 12, 2011

scent of life

hedge trimmers
whir, vroom
power tool

we approach
labrador azalea
on leash

we sniff the air
sweet aroma
fresh cut ivy

"that's the smell
of the ivy's blood"
azalea doesn't seem
to care

amputated leaves
and vines
will soon feel
rigor mortis

i wonder if
ivy feels

i can't recall 
the scent of human blood
freshly taken
hope i never have to

i wonder if it too  
smells sweet


Thursday, August 11, 2011

sides of summer

sun sits
on the back side of summer now
glowing hue a bit different
softer in the evenings

days are shortening 
a little at a time
sun becoming farther away
each day, tad by tad

on the front side of summer
tadpoles swam in shallow waters
deep brown or black tails 
with heads

one might not conclude 
the bouncy frog by the river bank 
was hatched with no legs
back then
on the other side of summer

august 11, 2011

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

night walk in summer

hubby, grand-dog, and I

post sunset walk,
neighborhood street,
from the occasional passing car

shadows in the woods,
sculpted images
like Dr. Suess trees
that could be monsters
in the night

covered they are
with kudzu

hearty, indestructible kudzu

vines that grow a foot a day,
deep green foliage,
shapely grape-like leaves,
rich in protein for horses

vines woven into baskets,
root powdered into thickener,
ingredient in candy,
killer of trees

but one would not know
it's a murderer,
neither does the kudzu

as its beautiful green
bonds together the hillsides
and trees
smothering out life-giving
sun light

i enjoy the shadows
on our pre-bedtime walk

august 10, 2011

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

field of ferns

field of green
sways in the breeze
like seaweed under water
dancing with the current

dividing the field, a blacktop
the structure placed by man
to traverse our mother's elements
like a submarine amongst sea weeds

tar, earth, wind ferns
steel, water, sea greens
nature, inventions, ingenuity
responsibility, respect, awe

august 09, 2011

Monday, August 8, 2011

the present

of things past

not of things yet future,
though I know there
will be more

less than in the past

august 8, 2011


Sunday, August 7, 2011

Ledger's Balance

Time rushes through my life
like a river's untamed rapids.
I embrace a rock for anchor
~but alas, I'm swept away...

Time trickles through my fingers
like water through a sieve.
I clinch and try to grasp it
~with no affect upon the flow...

Time sits, patiently waiting
like a father for an absent son.
I behold their yearned reunion
~and for a moment, glimpse eternity...

May our days spent by seconds
tip the ledger's balance
toward time that sits
~momentary glimpses of eternity...

february 12, 2oo8

~Nuff said...

Sunday, July 17, 2011

If Only

I thought I was through
the grief, the loss, the longing.
I guess it comes in stages
o'er and o'er again.

How many times must I cross this bridge?

I cannot seem to stop
this river's rise and swell.
A life its own, it spills over.
My soul once again overwhelmed
with sorrow, grief, tears of deep remorse.

I wish I had a dam
to somehow contain the swell.
But I don't
So I guess I'll let it spill.

march 10, 2007


So much grief after leaving a "family" one's known for almost 3 decades.
So much grief even in reunions with past parted loved ones from the time in the family, reunions that occur after leaving the family, reunions that are joyful...yet bittersweet.
The grief needs to be honored; otherwise it might fester.
Festers are not healthy.

Monday, July 11, 2011


You call me.

tribal voice within
quieter than breath
awakening my essence

You coax me.

song i can't resist
luring me
with whistles on the wind

You envelop me.

beauty to behold
entwining melodies
embroidery within my soul

Is this the muse?
This tribal voice?
This heartfelt cry?
This whispering force?

With open face and open heart
I hear, I taste, I feel.
Vibrations of creation
No longer can lie still.

Humbly I acquiesce
Spirit's imprinted symphony.
Rhythmic ancestral echo
Tunes every cell in harmony.

Beckoning I surrender
With honor and a dance.
My heart glides in joyful unison
The triumphant shout of "YES!"

april, 2007

In my true believer days, the word "muse" was a dirty that opened the mind to devil spirit possession. We were not to follow our heart because the heart was deceptive above all else and exceedingly corrupt. Intuition was stunted, creativity stifled.

It may seem a small thing to some people, but for me to utilize the word "muse" was a big step toward freedom. Freedom...what an elusive many definitions, so many interpretations.

Tuesday, May 3, 2011


my stomach turns as i gaze
upon your feeding ground
innocent hearts sipping your syrup
until your poison nectar drowns

will they too discover your twisted ways
like needled barbs upon the stem
will they suffer harm as they imbibe
like a dose of coke that then goes dim

why do i even bother to care
i wish i'd never engaged your offers
i pray my heart will not implode
privately hissing a toxic scoffer


context may come later