Monday, July 11, 2011

small stones

July 9th

i feel like running again.

it's either that or swimming in a valley of tears.

July 10th

you couldn't tell by looking at us,
but I am certain my sister has a
blotch of red nail-polish on her back
that distinguishes her as
the better daughter.


July 11th

the daily grind and wrench
does not tap the waterline
of my personal happy.
Posted by at
Labels: , ,

6 comments:

  1. AnonymousJuly 11, 2011 at 10:48 AM

    So much of ourselves becomes caught in that cavity between the right brain and the left brain.

    ReplyDelete
  2. bttrflyscarJuly 11, 2011 at 10:56 AM

    it's true.

    ReplyDelete
  3. AnonymousJuly 11, 2011 at 8:18 PM

    i don't have a sister, but i love your July 10th small stone! ♥

    ReplyDelete
  4. bttrflyscarJuly 12, 2011 at 7:07 AM

    hah! good.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Linda Bob Grifins Korbetis HallJuly 13, 2011 at 6:15 PM

    at times, we do feel like flying or running, in a dreamy way.

    well expressed sentiments,

    ReplyDelete
  6. bttrflyscarJuly 15, 2011 at 11:26 AM

    thanks Jingle!

    ReplyDelete

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)

Reach for the clouds. . .

Tickle your toes. . .

  • small stone #4
    husband and I trek a mile for ice cream just for the creamy banana, crunchy pecans, and chunks of thumb-sized chocolate. shoes flipping and...
  • cryk
    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...
  • in dreams
    In my dreams I am the fictional version of myself. The one I seek to be in my short-stories and prose. The one who gets her point across but...
  • interview
    Today I was interviewed for Poets United small stone: July 13th so many things for granted, taken: two kinds of silverware.
  • where I went
    and now that the anger is gone there may be a few more glimpses like looking out of the window through a thin veil of silk. a look in...
  • A girl in a shabby green coat, on a railway-station platform
    motionless sap. ogling your shadow, you have much thinking to do. has the potassium kicked you in the arse yet-and got you going? you a...
  • mittens
    where are my garden gloves to weed out your evils? where are my rubber gloves to scrub off your stupid? where are my surgical gloves to cut ...
  • storm
    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...
  • blade of grass
    Tickling toes- there was something about that barefooted madness something about that wistful waist-high wishing and wooshing in the woods, ...
  • full of coins
    hunger is sometimes preferable to loneliness. a stomach will twist- but hands become dirty and heavy when full of coins.

Poets United Contributor