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Pretty Little Fool

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Some say I am a fool

A foolish little girl

That I live in a dreamland

High in the clouds

 

Some say I am a fool

A foolish little girl

Too young and naive to know

Sheltered from the world

 

Some say I am a fool

A foolish little girl

With feet above the ground

And a head beneath the sand

 

Some say I am a fool

A foolish little girl

Who doesn’t know real life

The pain and deceit of people

 

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Posted by on April 13, 2017 in Poetry, Writing

 

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I am Forever Coffee-Stained by You

The sun-scorched milk swirls like the sands of time: bubbling and changing, dancing among the microscopic grains of glass.

I tiptoe upon each piece, careful not to fall into the wrong color, stepping and twirling with the ever-changing bronze. My golden hair swooshes around, growing until it blends with the frothy milk.

The tans and browns continue to change into each other until another element is added, which glorifies each grain and magnifies its marvel. I stop, stunned by the sun’s reflection, and think of you. The swirls – golden and tawny – slip through my fingers, flowing flawlessly away.

Is that where you are? Floating beautifully away from me?

 
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Posted by on June 30, 2015 in Poetry, Stream of Consciousness, Writing

 

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Stuck.

That is what I feel.
That is what I feel when I am here
                                                  there
Tearing at the flesh
                        fighting for freedom
            neanderthal
                                     monkey
brains melt, cook
                        d
                          o
                             w
                                n
               into a buttery
bowl of grits…
 
Escaping into the darkness
              into the abyss
             into the corner of creativity
a desk.
           it sits there, homely,
             a pallid creature creates
                       mindless scribbles
                                  as crumbled papers make mountain ranges.
 
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Posted by on January 8, 2013 in Poetry, Writing

 

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An Audience of One

Happy C.V. moves the legs,

jumping sheep turn to waves.

Salty, sand-filled;

the mind is pregnant with a dreamless sleep,

The safety of an alloy friend.

interrupts the soft glow of the new year.

Drinking Jack,

watching God give light.

 
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Posted by on November 11, 2012 in Poetry, Writing

 

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A Writer's Soul

"Diving into a writers soul is discovering the broken treasure and beautiful mysteries that make you gasp for air."

Anderson and Janary

And their Journey of a Lifetime

Little Zephy's Mission

The unfolding of beauty and hope in a time of tragedy.

WIT

Women in Theology