Tag: poetry
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SIGNS of LIFE (a year in review)
APRIL 2, 2024 today bone white springs where a face use to be “remains” we call them dying proof MAY 7th, 2024 today a new moon arrives and so we finger paint with our feet JUNE 18, 2024 today clouds like typed lines in a blue sky they write themselves JULY 12, 2024 today a…
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the kitchen sink
burnt cookie sheets and cutting boards with cuts older than both children cream cheese smears of everything bagels gone by unidentifiable black and yellow bits of spongey, slimy What-Have-Yous last night’s ________________ soaking in the dinner pan 5 cups of assorted measurement for sugars and nuts and…
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EXCLAMATION POINTS
when I spray the 10-in-1 hair perfector on my dry(but-not-yet-splitting)ends the miracle spray smells like my adoptive sister Rachel smelled for most of 1989 it feels strange then, in 2025 to miss and remember the smell of an old black & white perfume bottle more than a person. after deciding last year that I’m not…
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the Scarf
begins a vacant sweater empty, inherited wool itchy and unbecoming easily caught up, I tangle and hang by each thread pilled and snagging on every pattern every thorn I have. the threads expose my inaptitude bring light and shadow to my weakest equilibriums. I find (in time) a pencil eraser worth of footing…
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february signs of life
2.3 today a roadtrip to DIA for two-hour beers with my best good gal 2.4 today the roses tiny & sprayed 2.15 today it is the Gerber Daisy I wish to emulate 2.17 today, together we build flowers 2.21 today a small chocolate 70th birthday cake (smiles & tears) for our Tony, our grandpa, Our…
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Breaking Blossom
wild delicate body three hands and a foot long lonely, rippling home swan/step swan/step twilight is the blessing then at times, the only thing the fleeting respite from days steeped in inhales step tersely, but bow to darkness to kindness to the “ness” of everything if I stepped out of my body I would…
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the Iris
The truth of the poem startled me when I discover it layered up there with the brilliant prose and the heart-aching imagery It feels like an intruder: seated (settled really) in a darkened room of my own making it’s true though there is inherent sadness woven deeply into kindness, isn’t there? It’s the reason I…
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cannon heart
The line was something about ‘a canyon in her heart’ but I heard cannon heart and like most things, the more I thought about it the more it made sense (to me). (like you maybe) I was born in a hospital but I came home to live for a short while (at least) in the three-story…
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six-word memoir(s)
I was born an island; seeking. we all have a mother (wound.) I remember: the spilling kitchen sink : shrimp fried rice and cockroach poison : the scent of my father’s cigarettes : Department of Children and Family Services the lie I live, is true. about this writing last week I learned about…
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january 2025
1.1 today a blank page 1.2 today a wristwatch gold & clinking like my father wore 1.3 today the second walk of the year burrrr 1.4 today fog so dense it illuminates 1.5 today frosted roads and ethereal treetops…
santos scribes 