Monthly Archives: September 2009

Hummingbird Fear

hummingbirds kind of scare me

and i can’t find the phobia’s name

i realize this sounds kind of silly

something wild cannot be tamed

they hover, dart, and seek colors

especially my favorite, dark red

beak so long they’d poke eyes out

ruby-throated fills me with dread

just bring in that feeder of nectar

or i’ll never come near your door

wings flap too fast to be normal

and it’s a fear i refuse to explore



**Anyone have a picture? I was too creeped out to look.

Hand of Leaves

hand of leaves




sometimes i keep notes on scrap papers

just like leaves that have fallen from trees

they are scattered about me at arms length


quotes, notes, inspirations raked up in a messy heap

meant to help me sit down and focus, to finally begin

but I find myself distracted, tossing ideas up to the air


the words keep painting brilliant pictures

lead me down a crisp young autumn lane

sitting here just smiling, at a loss again

Happy Day

i love when i realize i am smiling

because my cheeks have begun to ache

eyes squinting from the brighter view

there is no need for blush or makeup

when there is nothing to cover up








like a child that needs no introduction

when they enter the park to play

stopping only to grin at the sunshine

i am stumbling happily through today

If You Look




if you look at life as a collection

of memories, celebrations, events

stringing together the pieces can be

like loading a ribbon with jewels


but stones can be semi-precious

they sometimes lose their shine 


if you look at life as a journey

at some point you must consider

the trail, where it leads, where it began

perhaps wondering if you misstepped


but herein lies the adventure

while discovering one’s own path


if you look at life as this moment

breathing out and then breathing in

you might glimpse a star in its brilliance

finding out what is already within


they talk about falls from grace

but not the fall from your eyes

what if being invisible hurts


sometimes i fall off the edge

the very edge of the earth

then i dream a school girl dream


you are standing in the room

where the party will commence

surrounded by smiling faces, but


no one sees me standing there

like a simple wallflower

i am always late to bloom

Only’s Fate

i remember growing up as an only

was for just over eight long years

the other children were an oddity

lack of interest brought forth tears

all my toys i kept pristine, for them

brought out when they came to play

i believed they would enjoy them all

even so, they never chose to stay


adults in my life another mystery

so they taught me to read at four

kept feeding me books in my room

the quiet little girl behind some door

wealth of friends on my nightstand

but with whom could i play a game

too busy having grown up parties

most of them didn’t know my name


they tell me i am a grown up now

these silly worries are in my past

so i dive in to play with kids if i can

because they invite me at long last

adults stand by and stare at times

they think this a very strange trait

those that never sat on the sidelines

can see no reason for an only’s fate

No Prisoners

the devil has a nickname, that old Roger he turned jolly

legends from the briny deep found cloaked in evil’s folly

wearing coat of Templar’s spite, running with the knights

flying high upon a sea, black flag, crossed bones, in flight

rather that then crossed in swords, the sympathy of Rome

liberated slaves unite and name universal waters home

stormy raids, booty crusades, against a despot ministry

next they find the girls, the boys, soon longing to be  free

losing common sympathy,  leaving boundary jurisdiction

mate, gunner, masters now dance hempen benediction

captain finally breathes his last, left rotting in iron cage

sirens dance wrapped in cypress cloth, leading dead away

haggard haiku


recipe for sleep

mind as clear as open field

shearing all the sheep


Freedom Dance

“And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music.” – Friedrich Nietzsche


the purveyors of insanity that fill our streets

avoid blackened hearts, gone dark with greed

swing tree to tree with earthy sweet melody

grounded only by childlike belief in possibilities


the burden of sanity fills homes, cubicles, minds

fearing footloose steps found in freedom’s dance

trudging daily towards paycheck studded yokes

concrete foundations sinking deeper in mortality


the poverty of a soul can be remedied by rhythm

hips caught in the drumbeat of seeming madness

thoughts abandoned in favor of harmonious song

embracing chaos while dancing within the silence


voice has lost inflection

eyes are suddenly flat

listening to an empty room

scent dry, stale, musty

feeling like an empty cocoon

hanging from limb by a thread