I dismiss my mounds of paper,
habitual piling.
I embrace a soft blue-jay's tail.
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Tickle your toes. . .
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Ah, 7. The number in question. During this process of developing my first full-length work of prose, and a memoir to boot, I have considered...
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I swing in a mini skirt and pill box hat, cat-eyes and pompadour hair, wild in my Stiletto-heeled shoes- and I skulk in a monk dress with th...
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This week has allowed me to get back in the swing of things to use a cliche that I adore. This particular cliche allows me to be vague with ...
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driving home from the farmer's market- I can't see anything- through this storm- I come home to sleep- with you-rest in your arms fu... -
Happy April. I am currently working on this month's series "you don't remember anything, even though you were there." ov...
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Working on my book as of late. A good 1/4 of it is finished. Will update with more information closer to publication.
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I took a week off from writing this lovely, to take a bite out of a creamy, syrupy, delicious chunk of my memoir. I have begun to tackle the...
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shake up my heart and flavor your life it is full of holes. you cannot see me for I am brow deep in my old pain and I cannot speak because I...
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where I'm coming from- you cannot "see"-self-blinded- and not listening.
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there ain't no other place like you to roam. where I dug in my heels and said "No, I won't come home!" Dancing in the warb...
Poets United Contributor
cute..
ReplyDelete:)
I second that :)
ReplyDeletemy post was here
http://blackswanpoetry.wordpress.com/2011/05/05/poem-can%e2%80%99t-believe-it%e2%80%99s-you/
Excellent piece, very nice :)
ReplyDeletethanks all :)
ReplyDelete