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Murmuration

I loved watching them watch the birds hundreds filling the sky dozens walking south mouths gaping and smiling at the dance that dazzled us

#happiness #poetry

my child started school today [poem]

my child, the first, the only one whochanged me from me to two…walked into a class todayroom white, light blue, neutral and graya blue camo shirt, pants dark blue too a mohawk spiked, tried my best for you… watched you move right to your deskbetween two boys, one Thomas?I stood there, proud, perhaps a tearalways your mom but now not so nearyou sit down, backpack besidepull out a pencil case,…

#growing up #kids #momlife #poetry #school

they're filming a tv show in my tiny town [poem]

they’re filming a tv show in my tiny town [poem]

I’m not the only one who gawks at the sceneHandful of heads and cell phones belowLocal photographer in charcoal appearsThere will be others My office, the room where I do all the thingsthe crying, the writing, the yoga, working, planning, paintingtop floor of the old state bank. 1911 was it?The center of this tiny town — Colemanin the center of the pretty palm — Michigan‘bloom where you are…

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#Coleman #poetry

the wisdom you've learned

the wisdom you’ve learned

The small consultation room was pale yellow, white, cream. The chairs were plush—much too padded and decadent for the health assessment given, yet I was seeing an Indian doctor of Ayurveda in a $6,000/week health spa sitting atop Heavenly Mountain. I suppose the plushness was just right. He had taken my pulse, fingered through my chart. Pitta Vata, an overabundance of both. Asked about drugs and…

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#advice #life lessons #poetry

they say under anger is sadness [poem]

i’m really fucking madat youall of you me all of mehurt us like thisg’damn you, you liedpromised you’d take carenow look at uswhat a mess that’s been madeof thislifethat wasso beautiful but let’s be honestit always fucking hurtthis lifethat wasso beautiful so who again is to blamefor the pain lifethat wasso beautiful

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#growing up #poetry

is this the eye [poem?]

just moving paint across the screen

dog diedfather liedyou’ve been asked to walk alonegurujiyellow homecharras in the windowforest treescome with mebanyan draped so heavenlyscooter ridewant to diewent so fast around the curvesfeet in windowbutt on seatfingers barely find the keysbreath wonder when I’ll find my feetagain Many times I’ve sat to write. The journal is better these days — pen flows without promise of a readeror…

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#advice #painting #poetry

grateful for the floor

one thing I have quickly come to knownothing kills you slowerthan letting someone go grateful for the floorthat holds mein a time like thisgrateful for the woodsthe man with steady handsgrateful for the brushthe pen, the words written and playedinto ears as i waiti will wait so patiently fuck. // thanks zach bryan

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#growing up #life lessons #poetry

thanks for not mentioning the toast

slipped right off the top twice toasted toast atop sandstone yeti, new style with the spillproof lid (she knows herself well) the toast was not immune to her carelessness there were no safeguards shielding the son from yet another loss chock it up to being rushed, she’ll say instead, no one said anything which made the mother pleased she grabbed a packaged granola bar and returned…

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I felt taller than you [poem]

When I faced you daughter to father, in the kitchen I felt taller than you just like I did as a teen when I lept for you down the stairwell and when I threw my hands around your neck, near the pear tree. I never meant to hurt you Even though that was exactly my intent. As the years have passed and the strength within us both has diminished, my anger has turned to sorrow, not so much for my…

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#aging #growing up #poetry

please let there be blue paint there, too? choosing to career again. [poem]

I stayed in bed all of today, savefour walks to the kitchen, the samenumber of front door openingsso my yellow dog with a hard chestcould pee on sparkling snow, light bluereflecting the Saturday sky of January.I felt a fever, which made me scared notin fear of this virus I’m told to be afraid of, but of passing on a job interview, arole I know I’ll get, and will accept, and for whichI will adjust…

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#bohemian motherhood #growing up #poetry

time to butter bread this morning [poem]

Her speckled tan banana breadis dense, losing moisture, and tastesof saran just a tad within my mouthful ofhome. My mother always made two tinsof the simple cozy cake from a bunch ofrotting yellow fruit our family did noteat. She still does. Two weeks ago shewrapped a loaf inside two layers ofplastic and left it on my counter besidemail from DHS needing my attention andbottles of coriander,…

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the rise of you again [poem]

a new old light in my smile why was it the kiss of the man I was meant to be with who I kissed almost first, and who I’d love to kiss last the strangeness in our mouths, a welcome home to our bodies perhaps it’s when we stop performing proving and decide on settling into the sweetness of a human life, without pushing back at who we were all along he was him leaning into life his…

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#how good it feels to be with you #love #poetry

crab meat chuckles, finally [poem]

as the sticks of crab meatslippery from themselves and the waterI rinsed them with in a swirlslipped across the plate, one landedall by itself on the center metal ridge ofthe steel two-basin sink.there it was, a shaft off pollock andegg whites, dressed as king crabwet and floppy near a spongey yellow towelI chuckled, the joy in this moment profoundall of life being so sillyand just fine exactly…

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#daily life #poetry

humble pie served up online [poem]

the moderator wears bracesi imagine these are new, a covid offeringnow you can hide your metal smile behind the mask, closed doorstime to rebuild your face what a shame story the music of an orientation videobegins, i start to cry, pausemy video, can’t show othersthe soapbox i once stood onnow here i am, grounded

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#poetry

Being a bridge and letting go of what isn’t mine. — the tortoise shell can go now.

I have a tender friendship and working relationship with an American artist and spiritual coach. I’m her editor — I sit with her words and feel the meaning, then scramble paragraphs around and rewrite until there is a flow that feels divine. This kind of partnering — her words and mine — brings me much joy. I’ve reworked several of articles for publishing, redid her book jacket and amazon…

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#growth

I will listen and I will believe you. — a New Year’s resolution and a promise to a little girl.

As her blue ocean eyes peered into mine of bluish green, her blonde curls falling beside her face the way mine did when I was her age, I told her “If there’s anything you ever need to say, and you don’t feel safe or sure to tell anyone else, you can always tell me. I will listen to you, and I will believe you. No matter what.” My parents never told me that, and they never did that. Listened,…

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#growing up

therapy again [poem]

therapy is going well, we all agree I smoked twice today though, also truefinished off my self-medicating stash with a dance party to The Weeknd balanced iPad recorded my efforts. head nod. two therapists, two paradigms of healing, and my own acknowledgingan intellectual mind loves to sparwith like minds, developing beings playing nice to pay the bills. head nod. I’m paying nothing either,…

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