#MicropoetryMonday – October 30 – November 5, 2017

Greetings, everyone. I’m keeping it short today because I’m trying to take it easy. I was having a really good week and then got knocked down by another nerve pain flare up. It’s much better today than yesterday, so I am thankful. I’m happy our weather is turning colder here in Vegas as well.

I must say I am really sickened by the state of our world today. I’m tired of waking up to news of one horrible and senseless tragedy after another. I know I’m not alone, but it doesn’t make it any easier to watch. I’m only one small person with no power to do much of anything other than pray and vote accordingly. It makes me sad when I see people attacking others for not being able to do anything other than pray. I’m disabled. I do what I can. Every single human being is doing all they can. Lay off each other for a minute. Stop seeing everyone as an enemy because gah, this is beyond horrible. It’s getting harder and harder to focus on the good.

Alright, I’m exhausted after typing that little bit out. Love each other a little extra this week. Try to understand that everyone sees and experiences this world differently than you do before you attack another because they might have a different view. If a person can’t be reasoned with or spoken to nicely because they’re too riled up or filled with hate, then be the bigger person and step away. End the conversation. Even online. That’s not cowardly, that’s smart in my opinion. No sense in getting yourself just as angry or fired up as they are. None of the constant arguing is helping. It’s really not. Trolls can’t be reasoned with so why bother?

Ok, beautiful people. Please send me prayers, good vibes, and good thoughts for this Wednesday as I undergo two loooonngggg MRI tests. I’m not looking forward to them at all. I have been writing, in case you were wondering. πŸ˜‰ I’ve been working on the slew of short stories I have started. Adding little bits here and there. My poem that I have until the 17th to finish is coming along. It’s just something I want to get right so it’s taking me longer. Enjoy this week’s bit of micropoems. Be sure and check out my Twitter for more. And now I’m really exhausted so I’m really going to go now…




Will we make it
to morning?

Muted lamps
signal a passing

An answer
no one wants to hear

A charcoal sky,
blue flame & ash

#SenseWrds 331


I stayed
Tried to outrun the night
Knew the house was crumbling
Could smell the ground
–the decay
Tear your eyes
Lead away



in the stillness

Night frogs
silence their snoring
to warn of night terrors

Lurking guardians,
surprise symphony



Floundering in the spoondrift

This maelstrom,
an aftermath

We’re heart-tossed vessels
shaky on new sea legs
thrown ashore



Saints & Sinners,
a little dive bar
clothed in leather
Pushing curfew,
waiting outside
to remind you
of relapse
Save yourself



My past is ash
My notes thrown to fire
It wasn’t enough
Those words are still in me
Smoking apologies
for all this space I take up



I take shelter
in your smile

You’re losing balance,
I fall too

I can’t keep up
with losing sense

of myself
and losing you




#MicropoetryMonday – October 23 – 29, 2017

Hooray! Halloween is here! I hope you all have a safe and fun time. Remember,Β #CultureNotCostumesΒ . Be creative instead of enforcing the same genocidal and erasure crap year after year. My hope is one day we natives will never have to explain this to non-natives. One can dream…

Be your spooky (and respectful) selves and have a creeptastic holiday!

Enjoy these micropoems:




Crossing meadows
to your haven
under brooding willows

I was fooled, too

We all were

So we’ll cry,
water new roots,




We’re rich
in an immaterial sense

Stunned by morning
flashing brilliance on the sea

Fill our pockets
with beauty like this

#SenseWrds 328


I’ll be
your angel on the mountain
moving it
carrying it with me
I’ll be
your comfort in darkness
a gentle light
helping you see



Convoluted timeline
Esoteric thinking

I hear you, I do
I feel inner pain
from you

I’m not clarity
I’m just an ear here
for you



Summer returned
for a week

throwing off
whatever rhythm
inner drumming-

the beat
leading the body


Sadness sings again



The bed made
with you in it

Damp window pane,

Scent of apples
Black & white

Paisley wallpaper
Rosy & grey



Hawk’s piercing cry
signals the forest to bleed

Pain of birth,
a disastrous death

of a world those who destroy
won’t understand




Be sure to follow me on Twitter for more!




#MicropoetryMonday – October 16 – 22, 2017

HalloweenKingMy Favorite Halloween Decoration, so whimsical!


Hey everyone! Halloween is soon! We had a little family game night Halloween celebration family dinner Saturday night and it was a good time. I had a rough week and at the moment I’m trying to determine if I popped a cyst, if I have a kidney stone, or if my kidney is just doing it’s thing and hurting with nothing semi serious going on. Once again, if it’s not one thing, it’s another with me and my health. I can’t seem to win in that department lately. Still, I press on.

I’m reading “And Your Daughters Shall Prophesy” by Adrian Shirk today and I’m loving it. There was a story about Flannery O’Connor in it and I realized I’ve only read one of her short stories. I plan to see what the library has to offer of hers. I got my husband’s birthday gifts yesterday and did some shopping for myself (online shopping is amazing!). The Walking Dead Season 8 premiered last night so he and I devoted most of the weekend to watching old episodes, specials, and talking about zombies and the character development of the show in general. He thanked me for getting him into it and I realized that I have been with this show since the day it premiered. It’s wild to me to think about the early days and where the show is now.

I was hoping to finish my submission to a lit mag last week. That didn’t happen but I did work on it. The deadline is mid-November so I do have some time. It unfortunately is taking a lot out of me just to write a poem for #OctPoWriMo every day but I’m not ‘killing myself’ to do it so it’s still ok. πŸ™‚ I have a few letters to send out this week too. Family birthdays coming up. I’ll take my time and do what I can. It’s all I can do.

I hope you all have a great week. How are you spending your Halloween season? Are you watching horror movies 24/7 like I am? πŸ™‚ Enjoy this week’s selected micropoems and as always, please follow me on Twitter if you’d like to read more!




Poison ivy
was your final incarnation
Your poison
bred into bloodlines
A drop of a bad deed,
bad seeds were we
Your wounds itch deep


Clutching pearls
like tearful moons,
knock-off emotions,
or faux feelings
for I’ve been robbed
of the freedom
to flow freely




The icy hearth
beneath my feet

and my outstretched arms
forever reaching
for the illusion of past fires



Reflections in madhouse mirrors
Dreams of sickly spiders
I can see through the symbolism
It’s me wrapped in this clenching web



Even the cold weather
has betrayed me

Love a thing too much,
it becomes another icy sting

I’ll freeze too, then
There’s nothing left


She blushed
telling us
midnight tales

Gatherings under old oaks
where demons spoke
from the ground

Night filled
with frightful sounds



I can’t share
all the truths of me

Not while
certain hearts still beat

But I have this feeling
that even their ghosts
will haunt me



#MicropoetryMonday – October 9 – 15, 2017


I forgot it was Monday! πŸ˜€ Here’s a few micropoems for ya:


resurrectionmovieFrom “Resurrection” (1980)


Going under
to where people are prisms
and colorful fog covers me

And weeping is an anomaly
I always come back to
for sleep holds no pain


The mind,
a solitary palace
of my own clawings

Many have tread here,
left their stain
of frostbite footprints

and bitter ice



I follow the cool creek,
sun beams dancing
along beside me

How summer
used to be, a bearable
stroll & morning dew

with you

#SenseWrds 322


The rain makes
watercolors of the view
The purples always
remind me of you
However, your favorites
were fleeting
If I only knew



I’m still a little deer
finding my way
into the yard

I know it’s been years
but I’m still here
of everything



Sacred solitude,
muscles dance
to an erratic
to a
choppy river,
to the point
of numbness,
and then
the awakening comes



Empty hallways
hear her
singing in a new style,
a way to calm the fear storm

Shadows alight
revealing the
dark truth
of the house



Be sure and follow me on Twitter for more! Have a great week, everyone! ❀



#MicroPoetryMonday – October 2 – 8, 2017

Hey everyone! Quick update: I’m ill. :/ I had a productive couple of days where I felt pretty decent but it didn’t last long. I was feeling really good when I visited my doctor last week. I tried a medication for nerve pain with very bad results. (I can’t take anything, I swear…it all seems to have very bad side effects for me.) I have to schedule MRIs to see if there’s anything I might not know about going on in my brain and in my back. I certainly hope not.

So, I’ve just been functioning the best I can and reading a lot as per usual. I swear, it’s all I do anymore. I’m currently reading “The Sonnet Lover” by Carol Goodman and I’m enjoying it. She’s an author I recently discovered and I’ve been making my way through all of her books. Unfortunately, my library didn’t have this one in Large Print so I’ve had to take it slower. I’m going to invest in a magnifying glass because the reading glasses give me headaches. While I read, I’m enjoying Classic Arts Showcase which is available online 24 hours a day and I couldn’t be happier. (Hint: If you can’t get it to work in Chrome try Internet Explorer…I know, I know…but it’s worth it!) And yes, I swear, I’m only 34. πŸ˜‰

Tonight’s a windy night and I love the cold it brings. I’m hoping this week isn’t as full as anxiety as it was last week and that I can catch another break from the all over pain. I hope you all have a good one! Be blessed and enjoy some micropoems to start your week:






on a path of stardust

Wandering in dreams,
wide awake

Willing myself to move
against the wild wind

until I break



I succumb
to shaking rattles
to calm my storm

This is a mask
I know it
But I make noise

I’m interrupted,
but I live



Moon man
Minstrel of the tide
Do you remember
how it looked like glowworms
on the water?
Your song caught beams,
& they danced



hold on the news;
Just listen

to the gnarled twig,
quivering in a delicate wind,
don’t ask why

it blows

Yes, it blows

I feel it


I billow into a new place
I drink blue fog to stop lightning
from burning me
from the inside out
Muffled thunder
Drum beat rain on my skull


Spirited away by your reply

I am on the other side of the door,
bewitched by your honesty

I return to your ever empty vessel



Childhood, lorn,
too far behind me,
yet still connected to me

Roots strong but dying,
a web with pain at the center,
a love origin



Please visit my Twitter to read more of my micropoetry!



#MicropoetryMonday – September 25 – October 1, 2017

Here are some micropoems to start off your week. Feel free to follow me on TwitterΒ to read more. Make sure you check out the hosts of these lovely poetry prompt pages as well. There are so many talented writers to read and if you are stumped for inspiration, it is graciously provided for you in the hopes of getting your creativity flowing.

I don’t have much to update about right now. My husband and I had a fun outing at Tivoli Village Saturday morning. We had breakfast at the Waffle Bar and did a little shopping at the Farmer’s Market. It was good to get out for a little bit. I’ll be visiting my doctor again tomorrow so hopefully we can talk about some more pain management options.

I’ve been reading ‘The Handmaid’s Tale’, writing for OctPoWriMo, editing a lot of old work, indulging in pumpkin flavored goodies and horror movies, all while pacing myself so I don’t get too tuckered out.

Please keep Las Vegas in your hearts and prayers. I’m learning what it’s like to be so close to a mass tragedy tonight. I’m seeing the age of misinformation at its worst too and it’s hard to find words about exactly what I’m feeling right now. It’s been hours. I live here. I don’t know what’s going on really still. It’s unnerving. I can’t stop crying and praying. I hate feeling like my fear wins in moments like this.

Hug the people you love. Tell them you love them. Be grateful for all you have. Be understanding and compassionate. If you can’t, stay silent. Ask for help. Find your empathy. It’s there.





Poetry whispers
beneath the cacophony,

resting in silence,
waiting for me;

A strong voice
patient through the noise



Far away
I followed you,

through your
desert heat hell

right to
your fields
of dark wishes,

now covered
with glistening snow



dusk fell
on the last rose
of the season
on the sill
of the old house
we left behind

it’s only in my mind,
that forgotten time



I bathe in rose oil

I wear the illusion of a dead saint

I fall asleep inhaling petals

My skin burns like martyr fire

I dream of seraphim


My nokomis
would weave love
into all of her bead work

The loom taught patience,
my clumsy little fingers,
& when to step away



I didn’t ask for the vision,
it came to me

Through my uncle,
of winter,
under gathering moon

We saw the future
blanketed in snow



Lily, off white,
pastel reflection, a newly
laid egg, a bride of sighs

Silent screams, born of deceit, truth lies
in onyx eyes



#MicropoetryMonday – September 11 – 17, 2017

Me, Vampire – Courtesy of Snapchat filters

Hey everyone! Are you feeling Halloween in the air like I am? My decorations are going to have to come out soon. The nights here are leaning closer to sweater weather so I’m getting Autumn vibes. I miss up north and seeing the colors change but I can still visualize in my mind and write about it. It’ll do.

My nerve pain is officially the worst it’s ever been but if I type slowly I can manage. I’m faring better with a pen some days but mostly I sit here frustrated. I want to do more. But I should be happy with what I have produced. And I am. Believe me. I am.

I’ve been reading Anne Sexton poetry this week. I haven’t really sat down and read her for about ten years and I of course found the way I read her to be different than how it was back then. I’m in love with her still. I also find most of her work to be more relatable to me now than ever. A new found appreciation for an old flame. I’ve read a few novels this week too. I’m trying to tackle Michael Schmidt’s “Lives of the Poets” but it’s so huge and I can’t lift it or read it comfortably at the moment. I should get a book stand or something. Or just get the Kindle version. Little annoyances from this big annoyance known as being sick forever.

I’ve been sucked into The Vampire Diaries and starting to watch whatever horror is on Netflix. I’ve been pleasantly surprised by some I’ve watched. My brain lacks the name of titles right now. It’s my way of getting that Halloween feeling like I mentioned earlier. I want so badly to feel well and I’m not and it’s disheartening but I can do things to make myself as happy as possible. If not, I’m going to wither away in my mind too and I don’t want that. I spend enough time gritting my teeth and staring at walls. At least I can imagine in there. Rest is not so easy to come by when you’re born creative.

I’m here though. I’m doing what I can. I’m going to try to go see Mother! with my husband this upcoming weekend. I’m going to have to make doctor appointments again soon. (I’m so tired of doctor appointments that don’t seem to matter really.) I’m listening to good music. I’m relying on God and prayer. I’m trying to make some decisions about what to do with my writing. I don’t think I want to call it work anymore. It takes the fun out of it. πŸ˜‰ I’m toying around with releasing my chapbook in print form. I’m toying around with a lot of ideas really and I don’t know if any of it will really happen. I don’t know if I’m just going to be “someone who wrote a lot of online poetry for her entire life” or “insert something cool and authorly”. I don’t know if I care or if I should care or if I’m supposed to care about this as a writer. It’s not money. It’s never been money. I would have quit a long time ago if it were about money. I just don’t know anymore. I just know it’s becoming physically more difficult to do much of anything for too long. I’m ill. I can’t deny it. I just have so much more to write.

Alright, I’m going now before I end up deleting all I just painfully wrote. Take it easy this week everyone! Love and be love. ❀


Losing count
of wake fires,
years smoldered
still burn bright

Each flame
deep set
in the eyes
of my family

to remind us


My secret heart
forgives your emotion based mistakes

Concealed truth
out in open plains you tried to overtake

Justified actions
bend & break


broken bond
so torn up
& apart
we used our remnants
to cling to
to keep afloat
in distant rivers
to return to
the ocean together


instead of looking
we applied to be
mannequins behind
glass windows
we stopped passing
became the passed
this was transcendence


Rosemary’s Baby (1968)

Watching Rosemary’s Baby at 6 AM


Mia sits like a china cup
chipping away at French manicured nails
Wild printed woman, 30 years her senior,
speaks with a table shaking voice


it’s serene
familiar scene

i’m the red clad lamb
being led to slaughter

time ticks
i reminisce
what did they give me?


polished & forgiven
too yellow morning awakening

accusation lingers on the skin
marked & bitten

tea bag evidence
an open window invitation


Parts of my mother

I found them
in headstones laid on my chest

In sobbing breaths,
in appearing statuesque
when being yelled at


I caught you crying in the jade garden
Don’t worry
No one can keep an orchid alive
You held my face like an apple
You’re my core


People can’t fathom
how patient I’ve been

for identity

for answers

Silent mother,
who is my father?

I’ve grown


All the beaches blend together
A mouth full of sand, salt spray, tears
Gulls shriek, blocking out echoes
Of screams that won’t go away


as if we were objects
as if we were metal & wood
but livewire flesh
blood spilled (accidents happen)
& bone thin holds well


Vapor calm

I make myself a wisp
so I can fade to a soothing scent

These dreams
are sedation induced
because I can’t move


Made of the icy sting of metal
Under heat, under pressure
Born in distress, boiling over
A scorched servant of suffering


You’ve made me

the stones
of your house
I have a skylight
& firm foundation
I’m a view of a yard now
watching you
in the moonlight


I want to ask if the Falls
held a spectral mirage
like grandma said,
but you don’t believe in ghosts

Just how to haunt like one


when the water’s high
go to the attic
you said
the higher we are
the lower the rest

wind like a whale song
sings of change


Laid out
Laid in
Skin like
surface of a cutting board
Like every hand
they forced you to show
Laid down
Bet it all
Clear the table


Blame is shed
Here is
fragile acceptance
& a delicate surrendering
to the deterioration of your well being;
Still, we live as well
as we can


A decade of stormy weather

I sit
waiting for light

with a spirit so alive
it can’t be contained
inside this shell


It may take
my whole lifetime
to recover
from being born

I’m remembering
the celestial chute,
fluorescent fear
& how to scream


Sing of your blurred dreams
even if they’re not completely yours.
Is anything really yours? Do you know
ownership? You’re letting go of it.


Leave the scenery outside
next time
There are desert mountains
in your eyes
Painted flecks of gold
like the sunrise


I follow a snowstorm
under my skin

An avalanche tremor
of muscles
A rabbit twitch

With my little
bone finger

& believe in healing


Summer’s end proving to be tumultuous
Brisk winds hint of better days
They soothe me at night
I want to fall completely this time


I can trace death in my open palm
Creases keep changing
Feelings run deeper
Follow these streams
Veins of disease

I can swim
if I keep calm


Death drama today

It isn’t my fault that the lightning
within me wants to take me

I like the grey clouds
most find threatening

Muted pain


The light comes to you
when you’re too afraid to
speak anymore

I can feel the knocking
softly on my door
but I can’t hear

sounds so near


Strength in the tides,
in the changing,
the unstoppable flow,
forces of healing moonlight,
eroding me like sand,
making me new


This overactive cage,
so tender, so finicky

I struggle against
forced immobility

I pay for it too heavily
in eyelids, and frustrated rage


The quiet is calling
I’ll find peace in it,
retreat into it


Recovering from falling
into the chaos noise
still ringing in my voice


I saw vital organs blossom,
take over bellies
& every step walked

I’ve seen one consumed
from the inside;
Here I am at the mirror


We charmed her like Wendy
She drank deep,
merrily chasing the green fairy
French girl sings from a piano
Her smoke rings look scary
Don’t go


I saw angels in the funhouse mirror
I saw my cousin through five layers of glass
waving wildly
my stuffed souvenir at his feet
He rescued us


A kind of betrothal
between old & new

I’m piecing past & present
together to save a future

I don’t really believe in
tomorrow, only now


I found your rain slicker auspicious
Aloft, gulls warn us away from the water
Back to your boathouse
Tea mugs warm us
Ever closer


I wake up
like the stage magician’s
assistant turned victim

He’s left me
sawed in half
to try to find myself again


I dreamt of the green clad lady,
electric and dying

There was a race between who would
plug her in first

Fiber optic dust follicles
lit up


Let’s watch the sunset
Wild rose will settle & still for that
I worry about her losing all her petals
In this light she buds again


Alone in this
I summon bliss
Floating in starlight
Waning crescent kiss
Back to the body
The pulse of nighttime
Alive in the abyss


VSS (Very Short Stories):

One’s misfortune, another one’s success.
Gift wrapped in guilt. Accepted.


One foot in the ocean on the brink of a tropical depression. She crosses a moment off her bucket list, longs to be swept away.


WIP (Works in Progress):

I wrote of birth and sorrows earlier. The beginning of creation and transformation with everyΒ brand new day. Yesterday’s you is over.


Pain so bad
soft sheets leave scrapes
Someone has replaced
all the cotton threads with needles,
lined my clothing with thorny barbs