Oceans of Mine

M: It is ALWAYS romance that is difficult. D: Could it be that you get bored easily? M: I do not get bored. I’m told by men that I’m ‘too intense.’ D: What is considered ‘too intense’? M (with a knowing, startled smile and a confident voice): The depth of my emotions, and my ability to express them.

Romanced by the Motherland

It’s not supposed to be this sunny in England, this often.  Even today, the weather report on my phone promises mostly clouds and a 50% chance of rain in six minutes… and, while I see the clouds steadily marching in, the sun persists. It’s not warm, by any stretch of the imagination. The wind blows in strong, cool gusts that tease the fronds of grass along the fence-line in the exact way I tease…

The Elusive Poetry of a Misty English Evening

The sky is white-grey in a way I’ve never seen before, except in movies.  It mingles with the silence of this farm in a blanket that feels warm, embracing, romantic, especially as the birds are not yet asleep; and their high-pitched calls to each other embellish this scene like golden-threaded embroidery. I’m in England again. I could sit and stare for hours at this line of trees along the path…

This Is The Happily Ever After

I woke for the second time that morning, completely awake. It was 8:30 a.m. in Atlanta, still early for me if I’d been there.  I don’t know what woke me, aside from perhaps the adrenaline of being there, or the green tea I’d drank the night before. The beach was close, little more than a mile away.  What little haziness remained in my mind cleared suddenly, realizing that I could get up and dress…

"Grey and Blue" The complexity of truth is maddening

I lied: I'm never done with you Never finished, Never lost, Never not yours Did I lie, Or tell the truth, A truth beyond my comprehension? Because We've changed I'm never not yours, Yet, I belong to myself alone You're never not mine, Yet, you do as you wish, too The complexity of truth is maddening: Worlds beyond "true" and beyond "lies" Paired mirrors, we…

Yes, It came and went so quickly: A storm that passed between, Swept us up in a dream -- And, in a climactic scream, Emptied Us Both. Beautiful perfection existed for a moment, Faltered into an abyss. What a pity. There's a mirror somewhere around, When you want to look into it.

Quarter Crazy Poetry Marathon – Q3 2021

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These emotions, they ride me ceaselessly My heart craving to be elsewhere My mind craving to be elsewhere My eyes craving to see elsewhen Where they beheld les yeux bleu du mon amour et nous lèvres embrassé tendres avec bisous tres sucré... When saline tears came as easily as the ocean and just as preciously before needing to surf these waves being pummeled with a smattered education and a…

Another Word for Doggy-Doo, Rhymes With ‘Bit’

Lost within my reveries (or writing poetry, as it may be) emotions collide with memories conflate, contradict, or enervate a wordsmith’s game to create new rhymes But, who’s that peeking up at me with freckled nose and chocolate eyes? ’Tis a little pup and his toys, three! A scratch, a kiss, then back word-wise He might bark more than a little bit a soft whine now-and-again; but I’d best attend…

alabaster graceful lines curve up, down, all around to some, I’m told, it is pornography to me, true love’s epitome in youthful innocence, it was; and in maturity the pair, locked in ethereal bliss, remain a dream, a wish, a need Quarter Crazy Marathon 2021 – Q3September 18, 2021 9am – 9pmPrompt 11:Write about a favorite childhood toy, book, movie, etc.Tie it back to yourself.

An Ode to Bags

Forever-ago, you were my best friend bearing books while I clung to you carrying treasures from countless hours of creativity a litany of love my cherished evidence of learning Forever-ago, you held my favorite things my pencil-box, my large name-tag my homework in my 3-rings and that may be why now I still seek such perfect utility Quarter Crazy Marathon 2021 – Q3September 18, 2021 9am –…

Sunlight sprayed through the window above, dancing myriad colors upon the pair Pale, sleek and statuesque, his lips appeared rouged as they prayed upon her blushed-bronze skin Crumpled, gauzy fire nearby caught his eye, the gown she wore on the previous eve, sparking a newly-wanton growl Her large, amber eyes glinted approval This was no magic borne of gods, the lady declared softly No; and…

The pen hadn’t been worth it, pretty as it was. Why I didn’t know it, at the time, I’ve asked myself throughout the years. Dark blue with white-and-grey marbling swirled throughout the resin shaft alit my mind to imagining Smoke in a glass Ink in water Oceans of other worlds… The pen hadn’t been worth it, smoothly as it wrote. It was the cap I lost first; still, it worked. It was easy to…

Capture me, O Radiant Viciousness, Most Holy Erase me with Thy inexplicable, zestful folly Own me, seize me with desire, slowly For I am but a wretch, unwise, melancholy Without Thy aberrant poison to engulf me Give to me Thy strongest lion, wholly To devour me day and eve’n, perpetually Quarter Crazy Marathon 2021 – Q3September 18, 2021 9am – 9pmPrompt 7:Write a 7-line poem about one of the…

Whisper’s Reign

I see farther than you wished for me Beyond the castle, beyond our hills Beyond the safety of tall ash trees I made my way beyond the seas Where stars are made of stubborn wills Where gods and monsters move with ease You would not recognize me here ‘Twixt dandelions and daffodils That, to your rules, do not adhere Not they nor I can bear veneer Such as you dream might yet appease The monarchs,…

‘V’ for Vanquish

Vouch for me, Verse, if you will? My Vanity may not evoke the meanings, Vague as one’s self-assuredness may be in Validating one’s life, mind, worth, Valor in the face of a Void created, previously. I return, Vanishing in spirit, in soul, to Venerate even the meek, the shallow, the Vapid - with whom one would not even equate me. Vitriol spilt, my spirit burnt, am I of no more Value? When shall…

gods and dogs of colder climes

i wonder: will i tire of sleeveless all-year-rounds? of bathing suits and endless tans? of bright-green grass and sandy toes? of uncertain, unplanned in-betweens? should i yet yearn for bulky pelt of knitted wool ‘round arms and neck i’ll drive for half-a-day (or less) from flat wetlands to tree’ed mounts and, maybe, i will bring a god of fiery beard and iceberg eyes to join my well-furred dog…