A Little Update + #MicropoetryMonday February 20 – 26, 2017

I read “Before I Fall” this weekend & adored it!

I’ve been writing up a storm all week. I have so many stories in progress right now that I’ll never lack for something to write until they’re finished. I got over the whole “I never finish anything!” “Can’t I just finish¬†something?!” feelings because they weren’t helping me. They were making me neglect new ideas because I had myself convinced that it would be better to finish the current work in progress first.

When I do finish short stories (even if they took a year or more to write and might need some updating during edit) it feels like I’m saying goodbye to something (or someone) running around my head because some weeks I may only add a sentence or two to one of them, or a scene that comes much later from the point where I’m writing from. Sometimes, all I see is the ending of something and then I have to go back and figure out where it all started. That’s writing though. My process has changed over the years and I just accept it and roll with it now. I’m no longer in a position to spend 8 hours in front of my keyboard like I did in the “good ole days”. Instead of being upset about it, I do what I can.

I love Twitter poetry so much. On days when I can focus on nothing else, I go to it and ideas actually stem from them for longer poems or flash fiction pieces. This past week I also worked on three longer poems for my “To Edit” pile and worked a little on my Ojibwe language studies. I also read “Before I Fall” by Lauren Oliver and wow it inspired me so much. I found myself overthinking the book probably. (That’s what I do. ūüôā ) But, isn’t that what makes a good book? When you can’t get it out of your head? I’m much more excited to see the movie when it comes out next month. (And also hoping they don’t screw it up as most fans of books that become movies do. lol)

I’ve been thinking about my Grandma a lot this past week as well. Today is her birthday and I usually try to celebrate by having a hot pretzel and a slurpee. It’s something we used to do together quite often. Many a Kmart Cafe has been frequented by my Grandmother and I. Memories of her are some of the best of my life. She passed away when I was 16 years old but this year it feels like it just happened yesterday. I miss her so much. I’m not quite sure why all of a sudden she’s on my mind again so heavily, but maybe it’s because I feel lost about a lot of things. I wonder how she’d feel about the state of our world today. I wonder how my Grandma would feel about the internet mostly. haha It’s not that it didn’t exist when she was alive, I just know my grandparents didn’t have a computer. (At least not one with internet capabilities anyway. I do recall playing Dig Dug on some contraption called a computer that took up so much space and according to my memory doesn’t even come close to what we call a computer today.)

I wonder what she and my grandpa (who did know about the internet and even got into some “old man trouble” on the internet at one point) would say about everyone being glued to their devices all the time. Wisdom of elders is something I’ll always be tuned into. Sure, not every elderly person is going to have sage advice for you. You’re not going to agree with everyone on everything. But still, lifetimes full of experiences and witnesses to history that happened before I was born will forever be an interest of mine. I like to listen to people. I like to know who they are and where they came from. And sometimes I think older people are the best to talk to. They typically don’t have a smart phone out distracting them. ūüėČ

I’m catching up on chores today, starting a new book to read & jotting down the little verses that hit me throughout the day. I’m hoping for a good, productive week. It’s all I can hope for when I feel like garbage most days. That’s something I think I’m slowly letting go of too. There may not be any “I feel like I’m not even sick” days anymore. (I had 6 last year. This year so far: 0) It doesn’t mean I don’t look forward to one of it comes, but I’m not going to sit and wait for them anymore. I’m having much more fun working around them.

Have a great week everyone! ¬†This “little update” turned into being a little long-winded, eh? ūüėÄ

As usual, here’s all the Micropoems from last week and a few glimpses from works in progress. Enjoy!


Assigning her a role was a mistake
Not all mothers are the same
Someone taught her to build that fence around her heart
She won’t say a name


Gather at the midnight fire
Rushing of rattles
Begin anew

Smoke spirit transcends higher
Dawn touches dying embers
Just for you


Oh, they all have a way
of making you feel
just awful
for existing
Bring on the happy ending
Get out from under that rock
Have a day


Winter winds
whip back to me
Another dose
of cold reality
It’s much
more pleasing
To feel fresh,
bitter air
Shivering sweetly,


We’ll settle
for the fire light
for rainy nights
for coffee black
for massaged back
We’ll take it
over slammed doors
over sleeping on floors


Over absorbed,
a prickly sponge

Even with
self wringing

Tossed away,
like trash
because nothing
so dirty
can be made
to clean


Blessings beat up the bad stuff
Keeping focused on the good
doesn’t make me tough
It gives me things
to grasp onto
when it all gets
too rough


Conversations w/ the Radio:
Sorry Stevie,
Thunder happened when angry footfalls pounded steps on sunny days
& the worst lightning was to come


Winged messenger
gifts me a feather
I feel it’s a calling from home

Greater Lakes, Greater Skies
The ones I’m missing are there
I fly alone


The duel of two voices
one in error
one in truth
Make light
the weight
of heavy choices
“Don’t tell me
what to do”
Both belong
to you


Spirit, quell the fire in my belly
Give me my broken heart
I can no longer feel it
Bless those who protect Mother
Forgive those who steal it


Tears of gratitude,
A moment to collect
my scattered pieces,
A breath of strength,
A moment
Just a moment
To hear wisdom
in the silence


Eyes follow
Menacing moon glints
off tin-toothed grin
Maps, scarred over
& nearly invisible
on tattooed skin
No sound as
the knife goes in


Spinning globes
in search of gold
Twisted mustache
with his razor sharp plans
Ego consumes
There will be nothing
left of him
to eat his riches


Bowie plays
in his head
like his theme song
He struts, tuts,
puts it all on his tab
The whisky, the peanuts,
open mouths on the slab


All her binds
Vicious vines
bear sacred fruit
Crawling through the dirt;
 chrysalis traveling
In secret, hanging from
the shoot


Penny candy store tour
8 blocks wasn’t far then
On roller skates
No transport? I’ll tow you on my bike
For an ice cream cone
That’s a bargain


I didn’t know prayers
were so scary that you need
weapons against them
How will you handle
the shame that haunts you? Will you
hear the women cry?


No one informs
to make you feel dumb

If you’re taken aback
be thankful
you don’t
how our tones
can be so angry

Be glad for that


“I think you should try to…”
Not tell anyone how they should handle feelings
what they should feel
how they should feel
how they shouldn’t


When there were cornfields
the ghosts of girls dashed
through rows of gold
Grown, they gaze at the barren land
They plant seeds
Stand again


Last cold snap
We cuddle under fuzzy blankets
You warm my ice cube hands
Steam from teacups rises
We make stories out of
the wispy shapes


Dainty dame
could play the game
to a point of her own making
Tiny tiger,
with angry sparrows in her roar
left the jungle shaking


can you walk through crammed
crowds              without      
    c r In G ing              at their  


Squeaking chair on the hardwood
You’ve said all you could for the day
You shuffle,
defeated dance,
to the back porch
light up a smoke
& pray


Unfortunate events indeed
Graffiti secrets
Firefly flickering
of the fluorescent faced mean girl
I’ll show her
Scrubbing furiously


Does a dimming candle think about
how far he’s truly come?
Only when he’s burnt out,
in desolate darkness,
End of the wick,


Too close
When he showed up at that party
When you ducked out the back
Hitched that ride from your best
  acquaintance & cried silently home


Head of iron lead
I awoke to the pounding
 of a tired heart
Feet on frozen floor
Mid afternoon start
Aching to sleep more
 in this
dead bed


They’re calling it
The Age of Cruelty
For me,
it’s the Age of
It Makes Total
Sense That I’ve
Lived My Whole Life
Feeling I Just
Don’t Belong


Under the Same Moon
On the old Dead End Street
Gravel embedded In My Soles
Too Many Miles
On these Same Old Feet


Dear Summer,
You can stay away.
Mirage heat. Dryness.
Boiling, blinding,
ball of flame.
Burning skin from within.
I’ll hang here in winter.


Twitching until something happens…

   the visions

¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† of those minutes…

when the chain



The midnight hour
The pipes pop,
the TV stand snaps
as it settles
& I can’t sit still
The winds have calmed;
an electric energy


He tried to utter
‘I love you’
I begged
not to
   say it
Wasn’t our time

In this fairy tale
I was the villain,
The other woman


I love shining soul lights
I hope to catch a sliver of that blinding courage
to use when my flame is doused
to spark to life again


Questioning looks
from every cloudy eye
Confusion contusion
from trampling tensions
on high
The elite lie & deny
as blood rains from the sky


I saw painted bodies
pirouetting in the prism plane
Rainbow limbs wrapping around
each other
Embracing eternity
Pastel shades
in their veins


I’m safe
in my palace of pillows
when he’s away
I’m strong
perusing pages
penning pain
I’m not alone,
that birdsong
keeps me company
all day


Crushed & withered,
the first rose
from the last love
It bloomed once,
was beautiful
Now abandonment
is the heart
of this flower


into the nothing
that you are,
falling star
I won’t succumb
to your flashy
Just dull,
become a
bitter Black Hole


Her majesty, The Moon
Powerful Pearl over The Lagoon
smiles at the Free Love Frogs,
sings above The Sound
Shy Stars turn around


I saw time stop
The trees were fluttering
They stilled like the stone in my chest
You were a dream, as always
Yet I was awake


Don’t be late, love
I’ll meet you deep
beneath the sea
Under cover of kelp
no one to help
keep you from me
Follow my siren song
You’ll see


Coat closet hideout
Plethora of smells,
the cast of characters of childhood
They all blend together & I hug them,
their coats, all at once


Sage advice
from the woman in the red coat
Heels clicking down the alleyway
each step pinging off trashcans
“Never pass up a second chance”


“You wanna dance,

She’s a ticking time bomb
in plum red

she stalks the districts

I can’t get her
outta my head


I get these oceans of notions
Then doubt creeps in
& I pull my own plug
Sweep sentiments under the rug
Watch my big ideas
drain away from me


I stumble awake,
an alarm of thudding walls
Picture frames rattle
in gray lit halls
Next door blasts jazz
loud & clear
You must be new here


The future will be
mute because no one will feel
safe enough to speak

A whole ocean of
thoughts, & a lone oar trying
to settle the waves


Taste of blackberries,
first of the season. They melt
right into the tongue.


I’m not a pond. You
can’t fish words out of my mouth.
I’ll not be reeled in.


This road is too long.
I am turning corners with
both hands on the wheel.

Stop, look both ways &
proceed with caution. ¬†I won’t
forget what you said.


Sometimes I think I
wouldn’t be here if it weren’t
for the poetry


I twiddle & wait
so patiently until the
poem comes to me

VSS (Very Short Stories): 


His lyrical speech dazzled the
crowds, renewing their dwindling faith.



The seas were churning before
ships appeared on the horizon.

Courtesy of Tragic Beautiful
“Peeling Away”
Her filthy hair covered her wild eyes from me. I could only hear her odd grunting as she peeled away her fingernails one by one.


So clever, their reiterated insults,
we’ve heard them all before.

Grandma took me to see the Disney Pocahontas as a kid. She fell asleep about 15 min in. After a few years, I understood why.

“I’m so sad about…”
“But it’s just a poem.”
“Yeah, but, so sad, so deep, so…I’m sorry that happened.”
“It didn’t, it’s a poem.”



I only need a song’s
length to tell a story.

WIP (Works in Progress): 

–The hotel sprung into view. It loomed over the lake like Raquelle’s aunt had loomed over us girls when we giggled loudly at tea.
–“A cone?!” Raquelle screeched at me over her dish as if cones were a mortal sin. “Do you want to be a whale by summer’s end?!”
–The scenes play out like a bad high school play. Barely legible lines scribbled on index cards. He’s not even talking to her when he speaks.

#MicropoetryMonday – February 13 – 19, 2017

I’ve been running a little behind today, but better late than never! Here’s all my micropoems for last week.

I hope you all have a good one. I’m going to be spending time with my cousin who’s visiting this week. It’ll be a nice break.

See you all soon!

Photo Courtesy of Pixabay

Knocks on doors
With no expected visitors
Eye contact aversion
Longing for invisibility
I’m tired of
This way
Master magician
Walks on water
Turns hate into love
Releases fluffy peace doves
Conjures cumulus clouds
Smiles rain from above
The artist hums as he works,
   -no, he creates-
He’s a Masterpiece Machine
Bleeding on canvasses
Brush of beautiful bone
Mind of its own
My weary arms cry
 How much more burden can we carry?
My eyes beg to be blind
 How much horror can one see?
My heart, it’s buried
 How deep?
I listened to those
great podium men,
whose smiles masked their lizard eyes,
with my hands folded
on my pleated 
plaid skirt lap
The night he became vapor
we were all too preoccupied
with our own storm clouds
to hear his heart pound like thunder
He’s a mist in our minds now
To my aunt who cradled me like a baby
as I wept when Gram left the Earth plane,
chi-miigwech inzigos
I still feel your 
willow trunk arms
We all shush up
during that one scene
We cry along,
we can’t help it
We wonder later what
the actor was thinking
Does he know
what tears mean?
Ice blue twinkle 
in your eye
in front of this 
snow covered palace
is why I
would travel
to see you
I’d take
your beauty
Come & see
the forests’ true depth
from a raven’s eye
Obsidian night
A cloak hangs over treetops
No slight scuffle
goes unnoticed
The days
in the underground
with gauze-filled throats
air of defeat
The broken hearts
through the shaking
& falling foundations
Bathe in ashes
to cover
the baptismal
I never asked for
Too many years
By fire flame he passed on
his lost love tales of woe
Misty eyed,
he’d fantasize
His sighs
& ruddy
tear stained cheeks
told us so
Roller coasting
We sang pop punk songs
at the top of our clove filled lungs
Youth was running away from us
Our wheels
were jumping off track
Rays of sunshine
pour over breakfast nook
Cloudy out,
but that smile
lights up the
scratched surface
“Pancakes?” asks the
flour covered face
Phantoms in the hall
The eyes of the portraits follow you
If you stick close to the wall
Their sneers won’t reach
or devour you
Photo Courtesy of Favim
A tye-dyed deer in headlights
When streetlights are so bright I squint
& wish to imagine myself out of existence
Cars just pass by
In the Spring of her dying
I caught Lu crying
Tears that could save
Limestone angel guards the grave
Cherry blossom petals float to the pave
When you disappeared
The river ran dark, 
Moon became haze,
Sun stopped shining.
I was your storm cloud,
You said.
I was the silver lining.
She equates true healing
to the pain
of giving birth
“When you finally forgive
all the old wounds hurt
But your new life
has more worth”
I can see her
in her pink windbreaker
Rose of Tuscany Street
I can’t feel her hold me now tho
I can barely feel
the frozen tear on my cheek
Remember us
Feet dangling
over the dock’s edge
before the fireworks
I’ll never forget
you fidgeting in your corduroys
naming stars
“We lost”
The warriors cried
“Defeated by what we fought
so hard against
What to do now?”
“We fight forward &
for everyone mourning
with us”
Better off not knowing
Bitterly it’s revealed
What really happened that fateful day
could have stayed concealed
Buried in a forgotten field
Sandy toes
Crabs scatter
Lonesome low tide
Journey toward sunset
Waves kissing goodbye
After sundown
Dull beach town
Comes alive
Close up
on the smiles
in the photos
Just see
   not through them
into them
Years of tears
not captured
to remember
happier times
Plum diadem
boogie woogies
on the dance floor
Iguana man
on his stone throne
watches, winks
Purple cheeks blossom
An indigo eyeshadow tango
I looked up to the heavens
through the glare of the parking lot lights
Trashmosphere, it was
Plastic billowing in the breeze,
ghostly white
Watching history over the years,
the older generation told us,
“Don’t worry. These things will never happen here.”
They were wrong, I fear.
dalliant & dainty
the bluebells,
bashful, bending
mixed messages
accused of sending
frail & fainting
pushing, pulling,
ripe for the culling
Rushing tide nears
Hear it ringing? Buzzing?
Pain in my ears
Pressure popping
Released reservoirs
Flooding, drowning in lies
Sum of my fears
I miss the bird calls,
The sun splattered lake in the morning
The otter & the geese chasing each other Playfully
No need for fight or flight
I miss the night frogs
the low hum of the
electric moon
Glass shards in onyx
The Call of the Loon
“Dreamland come soon”
It’s always in the middle of the night
These homesick blues upon me
That I long for freshwater scented breeze
The old lake & the pine trees
Mazzy Star trickles from somewhere,
I fade; I’m there
6th grade dance
wobbling in pink lace
You towering over me
look of terror
on your face
Guilt churns in the stomach
A side effect of being informed
We’ll never know if it’s better
to know the truth
or lies
about something
or not
The worst
is heart pain,
wrenching me
when you flash across my screen
It’s the staring, for hours
because I just don’t want to get into it

The Young Pope- HBO 

Would he bleed for that
miracle? Be a martyr?
Sacrificial lamb?
Don’t fight against the
river, my dear, for the river
always fights back
His kiss inscribed sonnets
on my lips, breathed life
into my poetry
My notebook is strong
It can hold all this fire &
not burn the pages
Saying yes to you
is still the best decision
of my entire life
If poetry is
so dead then please tell me, how
am I still here? How?
Value the stranger
who shows you their whole heart. The
world needs more of them.
VSS (Very Short Stories):

You were the one I
was glad flew so quickly.
My dad knows about simple pleasures.
An eagle soared over his head on a canoe trip once.
He described the experience as being an honor.
We played the game carefully.
Still lost in the end.
As a creative
I was often accused
of having no logic
I’m a big picture person
I stop, step back, see all angles
What’s illogical
about that?
My Auntie lived next door
& would chase us kids off her lawn,
hollering to the tune of tiny mouths
chomping on delicious crimson apples.
It’s not wasted breath if
a willing ear will listen.
“Jagged Claws”
The game called Dead Man’s Float was simple.
How long can you hold your breath?
How long til jagged claws graze your chest?
I can feel Mother Earth in my bones today.
Seasons come. Seasons go. 
Change is in the air. On the wind. 
Spring vibes.
Survival is desperately praying you
live through the next hour.
Raindrops bring newness to the stagnant scene.
Heavy downpour turns second story balconies into waterfalls.
Turns sidewalks into streams.
WIP (Works in Progress):

You can never be too careful while loving the charismatic. You never know when they’ll turn, become rabid dogs, and attack.
We carry our earthly fathers on our backs. Earthly children bear the weight of them long after they’ve become wind & blow away.

Big news!

I am honored to be included in the March issue of FONT Magazine. My poems “Impatience”, “Deception” & “I Know My Tribe is Peaceful” have been published alongside other incredibly talented writers.

I’m super happy. I feel I’ve worked most of my life to finally have my poetry published. It’s a great feeling.

I’ve been busy with Twitter poetry mostly these days & have been reading “Tidewater” by Libbie Hawker. I haven’t been feeling the best but I’m pushing on as usual. My mind is still somewhat functioning even if my body can’t keep up.

Grind & rest. That’s been my process lately.

I hope everyone has a great week! Thanks so much for all the love & support!

#MicropoetryMonday – February 6 – 12, 2017

Collection of micropoems from last week! Enjoy!


Courtesy of Vector

Reality, blurred like the Christmas lights
that night
(you know the one)
They gave no assurance
or hope
because that monster
knocked your glasses off
Rushing sound
whoosh of last breath
with my vocal cords attached,
crickets stole the silence.
You asked.
Our last act.
I shouldn’t look back.
Deja vu oasis
   a tall drink of goldfish in a small pond
Games were won,
rings on bottlenecks, fingers, in your
cigarette smoke
I drank up
Extraterrestrial echoes
spiral through beams
in dreams
to reach heart chakra
Planetary ancestors
in peace I greet
If you just open your mind
& those eyes that have already witnessed
too much
(I know, honey, it’s all horrible)
You can see through the wool
Inkwell filled,
   creaseless paper,
oak desk occupied
Put the kettle on, muse
   The poet has much 
to cover this dismal night
Teeth grinding
At the Talking Heads
With no brains
in their heads
Up-rising before dawn
to get ahead
In our heads
all day long
He is my safe haven,
my shelter,
my home.
Covered in kisses,
wrapped in warm arms,
I sleep tightly
Every night
free from harms,
never alone
I ordered a kick start
straight to my nervous nervous system,
doodled in the condensation
from my lipstick stained glass.
I won’t envy the shameless
I value responsibility (though it causes vulnerability)
–A tiny sense of stability in
admitting I’m not blameless
Still from “Crimson Peak” courtesy of Geek Crusade

Moth wing eyelashes
Cranberry lips
Regal neck in sapphire
Hands on velvet hips
Silver sequined sashes
Murderous attire
Nocturnal visit,
snow owl tells me old stories,
shoo me to sleep before
the yellow sunrise,
legends under
diamond studded skies
I can hear the train whistle
Feel the cardboard cut on my ring finger
Boxes of my meager belongings
Crammed in trunks
the night I left
Gum wrapper chain exchange
When Best Friend meant something
There are many good mates now
Daisies in chains–loved ones
I can’t pick just one
Fear of water drowned him
He fought currents he should have flowed
He drank of too much that weighed him
Sank to the bottom
All alone
Senseless indulgence
Bordering between
so wrong,
so right
Tearing down barriers
Hidden shadows in the night

O, these forbidden delights!

Specter on the stairs
disrupts slumber
with his nightly climb
Muffled shuffles
Leaves no print behind
Just enough to feel
him there
Twice sugar
Twice spice
Double trouble isn’t always nice
They wear disguises to hide
Killing desires within
Pure evil has a twin
He paid a hefty price,
-tortured nights,
distant forgotten memory,
He was the sacrifice,
buried alive,
haunted by the enemy-
for a blackout
Give me your frigid temps,
your blizzards,
your snow caps,
I’ll trade my melted puddle self¬†
For that icy blast,
bone chilling
winter back
Storm spawns
it starts
with the pinpricks
to my tendons
travels by way
of pulses
through my spinal
fluid filled capillaries
& ends with a cranium snap
For my new cousin, Thomas

That shy, waiting bear
curling up in that warm womb,
You can come out!
We’ll do our best to protect you,
we promise!
Baby, it’s not all doom
Pale parchment hands, perfumed
in French lavender & honey
Clasped in petitionary prayer pose
Incanting contrition
on peach petal lips
clear as quartz crystal
circle ’round
fairy dust fountains
Glitter garden
dew drop daffodils scattered
where sprites splash about in
I howl
the gusts
bouncing off corners
of stucco brown buildings
for I am stuck,
a tree
wishing to be whisked,
carried away
Flickering flame
decorate my dark cave
with picturesque lullabies
painted on the stone walls
My will to stay awake
outweighs eyelid boulders
Distorted faces
melt around me
A side glance aura
Look too closely
& they possess you
Takeover terror,
quivering cold
So often the robin
on her golden rounds
will sing of springs long ago
The blue jay laments 
because yesterday’s events
meant having to let her go
Rain sighs against my window pane
Grey clouds cry, but it’s necessary today
Soft rustling of turned pages soothes
Soulful stanzas attuned
With bandaged knees
she asked me
if she would ever
be able to rise from the ground
Earth spirit,
take our hands
We fight
Believe me
Willow branches tease the shadows
She crafts love lines in the corner
Static through speakers
Her Muse’s voice lures
From far away
“Hollow World”
Behold, the hollow world of trees:
Hidden lands in spaces we don’t see
Gnomes, fairies, elves–Delight!
Dance under the moonlight
I keep to the edges
of groups
I’m not afraid of falling
Life taught me of the dangers
of being caught in the middle
There’s something in the air
A heavy, choking haze
It reeks of greed & corruption
Around every corner it is there
A dizzying daze
Salmon sweater
She hides behind 
   book binding
Foggy glasses,
pen in hair
Catch her smile
¬† ¬†don’t stare
Get lost in
See, I’ve tasted the heart of the deer,
my sister,
& in this moment
when memories
play like movies
& swarm me
I feel it
inside me
full bellies,
overstuffed, even
They ate of knowledge
but saved room
in their souls
for more truth
Hunger for lightning
For you
It comes like a craving
you can’t quite pinpoint
It’s the want you can’t place
It’s staring into shattered mirrors
not knowing
your own face
I still wait by that dusty door
for that missing girl to return
I should have known
by the slamming tone
that I still had lots to learn

Thorns tried hiding but
rose oil perfume stings the air.
Arise, bitter bloom.
When I’m down to
my last limb, I’ll still fight my-
self to keep writing

Your kisses, like sweet
honey on biscuits melt like
butter in my mouth
VSS (Very Short Stories):

If music makers were forbidden
souls would inevitably shut down.
Early spring. You can tell by all the coughing. Neighbors
weeding gardens again. Dogs run loose. High winds &
pollens do their dance.
Fear can be audible. When you’re so
terrified your heart tries to save you by
beating itself to death against your

Mouth moving,
quiet conversations.
The old hag & her
late night mutterings.
She screams to her reflection.
Only the ghosts answer back.
A wise woman told me that history was the light that everyone agreed upon.
She passed away.
And facts are now things no one can agree on. 

WIP (Works in Progress):

The dogs were silent and that was my first worry. The second was that whatever took them out was big enough to do it.
Silence wasn’t always scary. Thoughts about the worst that could happen never filled the void. Now fear will follow me forever.

#FlashbackFriday – 3 Poems

I haven’t done a #FlashbackFriday in a long time! So, here’s three poems from my earlier works.
Be gentle. I was young & angsty. ūüėČ

Have a great Friday everyone! Do good this weekend.

Still from Shanghai Express – 1932

Affair Ended
Face me
Turning, turning
I stare into your lying eyes
Your eyes that once spoke of
So go back to her,
Your curly haired girl
She needs you now
She needs to know
You cut the cord between
I’ll kiss you now
Cold, hateful, and long
For the last time
Do not show that face again
For I cannot afford to die
A second time
April 16, 2002



Deeper and deeper
I feel I’ve become
Lower than miserable
Lower than numb
I’ve crashed but not
I’m still empty handed
And though I’m alive
   I am dead
Left with only nothing
   in my head
February 17, 2003

This album I borrowed,
From your collection, is beautiful
It takes me back to a time when
¬† ¬†tears weren’t so painful
And pictures were memories I wanted
   on my wall
When rain on the rooftop was a 
   good thing
And questioning life wasn’t worth
   questioning at all
Thoughts clouded by smoky haze
That could only come from the
Held in my hand
As I sit alone, outside
Surrounded by stars and empty
Feeling everything
And anticipating that which will
   never come
To the tune of these layered 
He’s making love to his computer
With me in the next room
Eyes wide open
But mind half-dead
They say I’ll be rewarded greatly
   in the end
But is one-sided love’s journey
   worth the price of a 
Wounded heart?
Or will these sounds, and silences
Slowly tear me apart?
July 24, 2003

#MicropoetryMonday – January 30 – February 5, 2017

Here are all of my micropoems for last week! As always, thanks for reading!

Courtesy of pexels.com
Aural lights greet me
After eyefluttering
prophetic activity
“What did you see?”
They ask me
Speak & shine
They guide me
The hints & clues, the wisdom bits
trapped in silenced throats
fester & grow,
transmute into fireballs
& burn the voices.
Smoldering ghosts.
The porch is aglow
Morning sun dew
dripping from eaves
after light rain
stir the leaves
Wind carries 
them down the lane
the room
it’s plasticine
in this clouded fever dream
bubble eye view
walls close in
blue neon bird calls
quaking in my heart
eons apart
The night shift begins
Fireflies in the dark,
scrolling, refreshing
While the world sleeps
the worst happens
Work awake
Finding myself drowning
after she spoke
& the levy broke
in oceans of sorrow
of too many years
struggling to stay afloat
Hold on
abandoned children
in stairwells
of looking out windows
& not seeing brick walls
play jacks
their laughter,
a tinkling chorus
Resiliency, her superpower
Her tongue, a lit torch
Wings of Phoenix feathers
Eyes of jade & ruby scorch
Timid smile, teeth devour
the balloon got away
blustery day
freedom at last
escape from the grasp
flying, without a care, so high
as the world passes by
St. Clair River – Courtesy of VideoBlocks
St. Clair River
nostrils red & running from the cold
I asked Gram if water lived forever
She said it could
If people loved it like I did
She was love in a loud, yellow sweater,
A whirlwind who lit up the room,
A butane lighter
Where I was just a wet
There were little bits
of each of them
in all the little parts of them
once their collective voices
reached their ears,
broken barriers
Dancers zig zag on
a technicolor floor
They become colors,
meld together
& mimic the chaos
of the cosmos
4/4 time
For all time
His leer lingered past his departure
That sadistic smile stayed with us
It lay
Somewhere between a
snake’s hiss
& a scowl
Pools of tea in the moonlight
Clumsy or loss of limb control?
Accidents happen
Sop it up   No use crying over
a misplaced
wrist flick
Earning love,
Yearning love,
Undeserving love,
Self-serving love
The greatest of these is 
learning to love
Start with you
Lonely lover apart from the other
loses sleep in another time zone 
Picks up the phone to say goodnight
as Venus greets the sun
Campfire tales,
pine bough canopy
Coyote cries
in the dead of night
Bugs chirp lullabies
Twinkle Twinkle
Stars blink bright
You’re just a caricature
Over exaggerated
Throwing darts at my emotions
Bullseye laughter, tears in beers
This bar’s not big enough
Still from Interview With the Vampire

Free falling transformation
He succumbed to the
beauty of the beast

Wistfully, the
wanderer whispers, “Wishes are
wasteful. Wield them well.”
VSS (Very Short Stories):

He was the survivor. He reached safety, his entrails leaving a gore smattering behind him. No one could say he had no guts.
That bridge we burned just led to more turbulent rivers. 
“Stolen Moment”
I took the photo when I wasn’t supposed to, but I’m thankful for it every day.¬†
The railing was wet from the mist. My fingers were slipping & I dared not look down for fear of dropping into the rolling sea.
WIP (Works in Progress):

Micah remained optimistic after ‘nosering girl’s’ rejection. The number of single girls in school wasn’t dwindling or anything.
The place bristled with dishonesty. Joanna would feel right at home. I scanned the crowd, searching for her, preparing to dodge her gaze.
Happy February, everyone!

#BattleTheBeast Syfy’s The Magicians Contest Entry 2

Here is my second entry in The Magicians #BattleTheBeast contest over at Wattpad. Check it out!

I am also happy to report I finished all of my February deadlines. *happy dance* January was a hard month but I survived. I hope February cuts me a break though, for sure! I have been working on poems mostly. I can never help what takes the forefront of my creative brain. I just have to go with the flow. 
Happy Monday everyone!