Ever listen to the weather channel?
Partly clowww deee
I hear the mechanical voice say
My life is partly
clowww deee
with reflections of cold, steel gray
With an occasional punch
of glow, orange and bright
to make it through the day
Another Fresh Start The floors are rid of dog hair and dirt Walking barefoot is disgust-free An oily, aromatic glow rises up From my dining room table Dishes washed and put away Crumb-less counters Paperwork completed and stacked Filing could happen Miracles are in the air I turn as if ritualizing the room Facing the…
“Mostly we nurture our own blessings or spoil them, build firmly or undermine our walls. Who are termites but our obsessions gnawing.” — Marge Piercy, Nailing Up the Mezuzah By the time you read this, I’ll have been at a writer’s workshop on Madeline Island for two days, with three more to go. I wonder…
There is so much I’ve forgotten and not because it was something to forget but because I wasn’t paying close enough attention to know the significance at the time. How often am I doing that again? Am I doing it right now?
A discarded set of orange plastic vampire teeth A friendly blue blob waving from a tree A pair of scissors A pair of scissors?
I’m learning to be grateful for the moments where I am not performing. And to realize that all moments don’t have to be like the happy, relaxed, laughing ones in order to have a beautiful life.
It’s my birth father’s birthday today. He died over two years ago. I decided to try and make today’s poem about him, even though it’s been two years since he died and I’ve already written several poems and posts about him, including: Happy Father’s Day Dad’s Birthday Poem First Birthday Without A Cowboy Poem Horse…
