Sunday, December 14, 2014

Hamster Wheel

Inject me
Relief - to my limbs
Cement tube - encircles my abdomen
Acidic rising - belly cauldron seethes
Food screams - ravenous desire
Six weeks
The abyss
Low self-esteem
Counting the weeks
Until the next round

Inject me
Relief - to my limbs
Cement tube - encircles my abdomen
Acidic rising - belly cauldron seethes
Food screams - ravenous desire
Six weeks
The abyss
Low self-esteem
Counting the weeks
Until the next round

Inject me
Relief - to my limbs
Cement tube - encircles my abdomen
Acidic rising - belly cauldron seethes
Food screams - ravenous desire
Six weeks
The abyss
Low self-esteem
Counting the weeks
Until the next round

actually, it's only fit for the landfill

Thursday, October 30, 2014


my self asked my self,
"do you believe in god?" initial answer was silence...

followed by,
"what an odd question."

Wednesday, May 14, 2014

Butterflies Will Dance

Thank you for your kindness,
thank you for your open heart.

Thank you for the gentle way
you allowed my soul
to grieve and rage,
to simply ride these waves.

Closure now allowed
hidden pain exposed
the closet put in order,
I'm finally letting go.

Here I close this casket
with my hands I fill the grave
cool dark soil in my palms,
grace has soothed the pain.

This plot of nourished soil
will feed the greenest growth
among daffodils and jonquils,
and a four-leaf clover show.

And butterflies will dance
betwixt the sprouts of life
reminding me of that which was,
and of the future bright.


april 2, 2007

Friday, May 9, 2014


I can pretend your words don't hurt,
the old "fake it 'til you make it"

The truth is much different

I ponder ambiguously
whether or not
to feign indifference,
unless inquired to opine

I was stunned, shocked,
silenced, disturbed
by your severe wielding

"Elementary social skills."
"Intent to harm."
"Lacking nuance."

Each accusation,
three fingers pointing backward
toward their assailant

All prompted by a difference of opinion

An opinion that disagreed with two
"blanket statements"
I guess I should have stated "broad-stroke,"
instead of "blanket"

Perhaps my text was unclear
I apologized to you,
informing you insult was not my intent

But even then, my so-called insult
was not deserving of your daggers

I refuse to
walk on eggshells
in your presence

I feel I must muster
the resolve
to address your allegations
when we are face to face

It will not be easy for me

I pray to any god who may exist
that behind closed doors
you exact no similar harm
toward my loved one

Another fucking growth opportunity


Monday, March 10, 2014

seeing backpacks hanging // captive hearts

Some more micropoetry...
one fresh today
one from the past.

seeing backpacks hanging

The pen draws me in
Enticing me to write

Letters appear
Words form
Images sketched

The pen draws me out

august 5, 2011


captive hearts



Longing again for innocence

march 10, 2014


Tuesday, February 25, 2014

No Parlez Vous Francais

The Blues.
Blue Cheese.

I feel blue.
I can listen to only a minimum amount of
The Blues.
I like Blue Cheese.

I prefer "bleu" to "blue."

But I don't speak French.

Friday, February 21, 2014


A child cowers in the corner
Her spirit broken
Silenced by the noise
Of self-righteous disapproval
Unsolicited consultation

Words of pseudo-wisdom
To mold toward holy thought
Corrals the wild at heart
A fence unlocked only
By the self-appointed sage

january 27,2008

Vanity - High & Low

Shoo, shoo, dear one
Fly away
Gather sticks and mud
Place your regal nest
Atop the cliff dwellings

Because you far
My worth

Seated high
You can look down
Upon me
As I grovel
Am I good enough?

february 20, 2014

Monday, February 17, 2014


Like before.
Nothing new.

This time
there will be
no more initiation,
no more transparency!

But is that really me?
Caging my heart?
Restricting flow?
A thickened
outer layer
of callouses?

Such, I cannot allow.

my heart
morphs into
linear planes.

like a deep freeze
with layers of
translucent ice
distorting views.

Perhaps in another life
the ice will thaw
allowing transparency.

There will be
no icy layers
no callouses
no cages
no scars
no fear
no need to protect.

But for now
I squint, peering
into the milky white
trying to delineate
evidence of a
pulsing heart.

My frosty goggles
require constant cleaning.

february 17, 2014

Wednesday, February 12, 2014


A ball of yarn
rainbow cords
each color a season
of life

All wound up into
one big orb
hiding the central

It takes time
to unwind
to lay straight
to notice the patterns
of colors

What lies at the center?
Only the other end.

And I was hoping for a


perhaps that is
the revelation

The process of
grasping that the end
and the beginning
look the same

That the discovery
is in the

may 20, 2009

Monday, February 10, 2014

Our Times


So many perceptions
escape the keyboard
from so many coves
around the globe

rooms, closets
forests, beaches
desks, tables
cars, trucks
palms, laps

So many perceptions
have always existed
from so many caves
around the globe

dirt, sand
stylus, rock
papyrus, stone
ink, coal
hands, fingers

Each living being
from every generation
battles feelings
of irrelevancy

Fossils imprint
Cave drawings linger
Pyramids stand
Scrolls unroll


Handheld works
of bygone times
cause me to question
the illusionary element
on this information highway


Monday, February 3, 2014

ever returning themes

I hope to
never quit dreaming
watch wild ponies run
sleep in the open
greet morning sun
cast pebbles on water
embrace heron's flight
betwixt & between
tall buildings of life

september, 2013


Someday my baby, when I am a man, 
and others have taught me the best that they can 
they'll sell me a suit they’ll cut off my hair 
and send me to work in tall buildings 
So it's goodbye to the sunshine 
goodbye to the dew 
goodbye to the flowers 
and goodbye to you 
I'm off to the subway 
I must not be late 
I’m going to work in tall buildings 
When I’m retired 
My life is my own 
I made all the payments 
it's time to go home 
and wonder what happened 
betwixt and between 
when I went to work in tall buildings 
~Music & Lyrics: John Hartford

We learned to be so graceful
Watching wild horses running
And from those agile angels
We knew the tide was turning
For we watched as on the skyway
The herons circled slowly
While we mere mortals watched them fly
Our sleepless eyes grew heavy

Cast a pebble on the water
Watch the ripples gently spreading
Tiny daughter of the Camargue
We were meant to be together
We were made for one another
In a time it takes to grow up
If only we were old enough
Then they might leave us both alone

So take my hand in your hand
Say it's great to be alive
No one's going to find us
No matter how they try
No one's going to find us
It's wonderful so wild beneath the sky

Sleeping in the open
See the shadows softly moving
Take a train towards the southlands
Our time was never better
We shall pass the sights of splendor
On the door of a new life
It had to happen soon I guess
Whether it is wrong or it is right

~Lyrics: Bernie Taupin
~Music: Elton John

Sunday, February 2, 2014

Elliptical Enchantment

Stately magnolia
Regal, splendid, statuesque
Lush open flower
White cradling pink
Among green and mahogany

Beneath her eloquent boughs
Pillows of moss and clover
Scattered boulders among pine needles
Harshness of life's survival
Seeds awaiting birth

Gracefully she sways
Earthly rhythms serenade
Sweet fragrance envelops every sense
Bathed in warm breezes
Swaddled in elliptical enchantment

She stretches toward the heavens
To glimpse the soft horizon
Setting of the celestial sphere
Moonlit stars, nature's graffiti
Trundling the cusp of the Milky Way

I behold your form
~magnolia's blossom~
I gaze into your eyes
~rivers of mahogany~
I feather your flesh with fingertips
~more delicate than moss and clover~
I drink in your fragrance
~intoxicating sweet breezes~

Sensuous lyrical whispers
~rhythm rocks our souls~
Luminous hypnotic aura
~immersed in celestial shadow~
Enticing flower opens
~ripples of desire~
Elliptical ecstasy
~horizon of nativity~

Entwined in delicate symmetry
Cradled in the afterglow
Breath's survival, awaiting birth
Circle of life
Riding the cusp of the Milky Way

November 6, 2007

Elliptical Enchantment is a poem I wrote for an online poetry challenge in November, 2007, at Poetry Pages.

The challenge criteria was:
"Anything remotely considered a poem is acceptable as long as the phrases and selected words are used.


soft mahogany/warm mahogany (or another phrase dealing with mahogany, doesn't have to be skin related, maybe furniture)
rhythm and blues/rock and roll/half step (or any music theory or general music reference)
A perfect square/Axis of Symmetry (or any math reference)
I hope you feel the same way too (or any reference to heartbreak or unrequited love or pursued love)

Words (Can change tense, make plural, etc. just use the root word):

lyrical/ lyric/ lyrically etc.
moonshine/moonlit/starlit (any moon or star reference)


End the poem in a cliff hanger"

The Entries:
Entry: Brief Dance in the Moonlight
Entry: Last November
Entry: Unrequited Love
Entry: Kiss me Satan
Entry: a widow stands in heartache
Entry: ~ lovie ~
Entry: Elliptical Enchantment (Final Pick)
Entry: Adoration Foncée


In my boat
upon the water

I observe
on the shore
as landers

The landers
momentarily pause
to look
at the lady
in the boat
as it lazily
drifts by

the landers
return to life

There are duties
about the boat
that cannot
be ignored
as she drifts
wondering if
the landers
have a better
life than she

february 2, 2014

Friday, January 31, 2014

South Side of Pilot

Let there be trees
And it was so
The fires came
Yet trees still grow

The squirrels dance
The turkeys run
The deer romp
The setting sun

Another day among the living
That speak a different language

january, 2014

~mountain trail, 1/27/14~

~lost on mountain trail, 1/27/14~

Saturday, January 25, 2014

Poems from the archives...

I'm currently posting some poems from my true-believer days.

Not sure how long I'll be on this kick.

Might stop tomorrow...or a month from now.

I have most of my past poems (accessed by the *link below*) organized by date and have the dates entitled to describe that season of my life. I only have poems organized through 2010. I've written more since then, but haven't archived them...yet.

The season titles are (unless I change them some time in the future):
  • Eureka: 1978 - 1981
  • Suppressformity: 1982 - 1998
  • Awakening: 1999 - 2003
  • Emergence: 2004 - 2006
  • Emancipation: 2007
  • Hmmm...: 2008
  • Reason&Rhyme: 2009
  • Reality: 2010
*Here is the link: Nekot's Tokens*

Friday, January 24, 2014

The Willing Heart

[Note: From the deep archives...1981]

My entire soul vibrates
with the Life of Christ

all encompassing
with every vibrant hue.

Like a precious Gem sparkling and glowing
with Light's reflection,
I am the reflection of
the Giver of Light,
the Giver of Life,
the Giver of Love.

Within every cell of my Being
He fills.
Within every cell He is eager
to teach me;
ever ready and waiting
for my Heart
to be willing.

To Him the willing Heart is
without price.
For within that Heart He is able
to give
and from that Heart

By His love He gave freedom
of will
and the liberty
to choose.

He doesn't force or coerce.
He encourages with a tender
coaxes with a loving
He entreats
awaiting my decision.

What great joy
must fill the Father's Heart
when mankind believes
by the free choosing of his will.
What Love beyond
lies within Him,
and thus within me.
I simply need
to choose
to believe.

For within me
is the precious Gem
sparkling and glowing
with the Giver of Light's


Not sure what to say about this now, in 2014.

I turned 22 years old in 1981.


Wednesday, January 8, 2014

Never Doubt

[Note: From the deep archives...1978-1981]

Sometimes our walk in life
may not display our whole love for God.
But don't be quick to judge another;
even greater not yourself.
Remember that God looks upon the heart;
He understands our every doubt.
Yet, He is confident in us!
es; you and me
Regardless of our old-man doubts.

God doesn't doubt;
He believes in us.
He has entrusted us with
His most precious gem;
That is His Love, His Son, His Word,
His very Heart
So that we might hide
Him in our hearts
And hold Him in our minds,
So that we might see
as He sees us
with hearts as pure as His.

God so loved that He gave
while we yet lived in sin.
Well has God quit giving now?!?
We need but reach deep
And with all we've got
reach out
Bury our hearts in His,
entrust Him with our all.

God is our Strength,
our Enablement.
He believes in you
and me.
So don't be quick to judge
And even greater not
But at times
when this happens
Remember God
lean to nothing else.


Another poem written in my true-believer days.

The Way taught that there is no condemnation in Christ Jesus. And The Way taught the "law of believing;" that is that what one believes in one's heart one receives and that "confession (or words) of belief yields receipt of confession (words)."

It was a double-edged sword for certain least for me. I became eaten up with self-doubt. Standards were so high; I just couldn't attain them. But, I was not supposed to condemn my self; so then I'd condemn myself for condemning my self.

Anyway, it's somewhat ironic but not surprising, that I've been reading a book entitled "Trusting Doubt."

Quite opposite of the title of this poem.

My Life is a Gift

[Note: From the deep archives...1978-1981]

How thankful I am
for men who have stood
through trial, through doubt,
through temptation and spite.
For because of these men
I can stand here today
and declare the glory
of my God.
Without these men
I would not know that
my life is a gift
to the Body of Christ.

I've been called and enabled
to carry forth His Word
A task far greater
than man can comprise,
A task so great
that only God can provide
the energy and strength
to carry on.
I shall stand 'til my death
or the Return of my Lord.
My heart is committed
to do that which is takes
to see God's Word
over the world.

My life is a gift
to the Body of Christ.
Because of men before me
I know that I can.
I'm Corps.
I'm called forever to stand.
My life is a gift
to the Body of Christ.

What shall I say
when tempted to doubt?
For with God I stand!
He has clothed me with
His Righteousness;
with that I have the right
to speak boldly.

To Him I give
the whole burnt offering,
the living sacrifice.
My Lord, here I am.
My life is a gift
to the Body of Christ.
I'm called. I'm Corps,
forever to stand!
My life is a gift
to the Body of Christ.


Obviously written in my true-believer days.

Good people were in the Way Corps, folks with good hearts. At the time, I believed the leaders had followers' best interests at heart. And some leaders did.

The top leadership though...well...imo, the Way's founder was a(and other top leaders were/are) manipulative narcissist(s), at the least. That opinion has developed over the last eight years as I've studied human behavior and group dynamics and transcendent belief systems; and as individuals have shared their personal stories with me, their encounters with certain of these men and women.

I realize all people make mistakes. Mistakes aren't the issue; patterns of manipulation are...wrong...wrong. I'd say even evil. Not something to go looking for. But to be aware of? Yes.

I hike in the woods. I am aware of snakes and bears and poison ivy.

Tuesday, January 7, 2014

Pinhole View: Prose 3

He lived His life
an obedient one.
He loved and foresaw
what was to come.

It was this love,
this vision,
this purpose
that spurred Him to do.

His life was the sacrifice
for me, for you.

What am I to do,
one so weak, so small?
How do I respond
to this magnificent call?

He simply says,
"Come. Rest. Relish.
In the work I have done."

"Take it.
Accept it.
I did it for You.
Embrace it.
Hold it.
All is true.
Hide it within.
Take it to heart.
This is the reason
I gave my all.
For you my child,
my friend."

"Once you embrace it,
please step aside.
Allow me entree to work within.
As you cast all your care...
all the guilt....
all the shame.....
all the sickness...
all the pain...
You shall find freedom
In a love

"Step aside.
Trust I know what is best.
Then take the step
of me working within."

"I will guide,
transform your heart.
But my child,
you first must start.
By simply accepting
all I have done.
To make you righteous
God's daughter, God's son."

february, 2006

This poem is Prose 3 of 3. All three parts can be read here:
Pinhole View: A Trilogy

Prose 1 can be read alone here: Pinhole View: Prose 1
Prose 2 can be read alone here: Pinhole View: Prose 2

I wrote Prose 3 four months after leaving The Way. I had left The Way via a splinter group and, at the time, I felt I had found genuine fellowship again via that splinter group.

Even though my husband didn't officially leave The Way until April, he was on his way out before that time. Sometime around February, 2006, my husband and I had hosted a class in our home via that splinter group. A handful of Way believers who were questioning attended that class.

One of the leaders from the splinter group closed the class for us; it was a huge incident for me at the time. That I could call this leader directly and ask him to close the class, and he made the time to do so. He couldn't be with us in person, so he closed it via the speaker phone. He took time for each person to introduce themselves, if they wanted. It was a healing time.

The group and its teachings were beyond helpful at the time, and for that I will always be thankful.

Pinhole View: Prose 2

My heart cried out
to the forces that be.

"Where are you?
Can you hear me?
Do you exist?
Dare I believe?"

My heart craved,
yearning to find
its place
in this great big world
among this human race.

"Where do I fit?
Where do I belong?
So many choices...
What if I'm wrong?"

I tried to fit
so many places
among different groups
diverse faces.

Times of elation,
times of doubt.
Times of exuberance,
times of remorse.

"Where do I turn,
where do I stake
this life of mine?
Upon what course?"

For awhile I settled for mediocrity,
But my soul suffered emptily.
I searched, pondered through many books.

Philosophies, answers
in so many nooks.

Then I came full circle
back to Jesus Christ
and God's Word.

I found myself humbled,
small again.

Was I the wiser
for wandering?

Aye? Nay?
Of the answer
I am uncertain.

But humbled,
I am.

I trust my heart
will stay
upon this new,
old course.

december, 2005

This poem is Prose 2 of 3. All three parts can be read here:
Pinhole View: A Trilogy

Prose 1 can be read alone here: Pinhole View: Prose 1
Prose 3 can be read alone here: Pinhole View: Prose 3

I wrote Prose 2 two months after leaving The Way, after spending months and months searching.

I ended up leaving The Way via a Way splinter group and, at the time, I felt I had found genuine fellowship again via that splinter group. The group and its teachings were beyond helpful at the time, and for that I will always be thankful.