Wednesday, September 28, 2016


You dark doppelganger you,
not ever far from me
My damn, constant
companion, you never
never let me be

Oh shadow self, silhouetted
there - let me see you whole
Step out from the gloom,
come over here into
the light, my little mole

Saturday, April 30, 2016


Nervously sipping wine, blue lipstick and a cigarette hanging out of your mouth
Be an animal, writing in restaurants, or the writing studio
Be a tourist in your own town, write anyplace; every Monday

More about Mondays - use loneliness - but don't use writing to get love
Be specific; don't tell, but show, the ordinary and the extraordinary
Make statements and answer questions; use the action sentence

First thoughts - whatever's in front of you - original detail
Go further - find a large field to wander in - a sensation of space
No hindrances - a new moment - tap the water table - use big concentration.

Writing is a communal act - talk is the exercise ground - a story circle
Writing marathons - spontaneous writing booths -trust yourself
Claim your writing - be the Samurai, or, the Goody-Two-Shoes nature

Mind, pen and paper - composting artistic stability - obsessions - listening
What are your deep dreams?  Living twice? Man eats car? A meal you love?
One plus one equals a Mercedes-Benz? Fighting Tofu? Don't marry the fly?

The power of detail and syntax; writing is practice but, is not a McDonald's hamburger
Engendering compassion, a little sweet - doubt is torture.  We are not the poem.
A big topic: going home. Epilogue: I don't want to die.

A found poem created using one of Greg Santos's constraints - Table of Contents poem - I used Natalie Goldberg's "Writing Down the Bones" TOC - it was an excellent choice.

Tuesday, April 12, 2016


All these years 
worried about 
the damned 
fish swimming
in different 
Thinking - yes, 
that's the problem.

Pisces: sensitive, 
compassionate - 
mmm, okay
Helpful, sociable - 
not so much
very - huh?
Hard to get 
a hold on ... 
slippery? Yes.

But the chart 
with the planets
for the first time 
shows her:
True Node
Starts reading - 
is not surprised
to learn - 
"mean nodes"
are normal.
True? No.
A legacy 
of lunacy, 
born out.

An Astrological Self-portrait - Matt Trease  
Using an astrological chart based on Birth-date, time and place - plus deciphering tools and language for same - we were tasked with writing a poem that grew from the language that evolved from this experiment. I loved doing this and ended up with quite a bit of material (which I'm happy to have actually) but in the end, found it hard to whittle down and went with the bit that fascinated me the most - the True Node - something to which I've never been exposed before.

Thursday, November 5, 2015


It was surreal, an out-of-body experience
We walked through a park-like setting
glancing back at the Capitol often
as if reassuring ourselves it did exist
Almost the whole way, we could see it
The needle pointing to the sky, so tall
it can be seen from miles away,
the Washington Monument ... just the way
it's portrayed on TV or in movies
only more so, you know?

And then, we're close enough to see it
unimpeded and I swear my heart roared
loud in my ears; it was suffocating but
wildly thrilling
I tried to capture it with my camera, knowing
there was no way to trap it, no way to
contain anything this grand, but, I had to try.

Friday, September 11, 2015


In the beginning, I didn't believe in any of it: the doctors, therapy, medicine.
I only knew that I wanted to sleep forever and not have to think anymore.
And if I couldn't do that - I wanted to die, just cease to exist.

It sounds so clinical when I write it down, and looking back,
I know; it wasn't that cut and unadorned.
No - not by a long thought. I hesitate to look at those years too closely

even though I grasp the whole life left unexamined and all that.
But, it would be catastrophic if digging into the soup that was
my insanity helped it resurface in any way.

Poetic Asides Wednesday September 9, 2015 - prompt - a small poem

Monday, May 18, 2015


Douse the tavern's
the prodigal sun
is longing
to roar
open another day

Will we never learn
to find treasure
in the ordinary,
in sand and gravel

In not rushing
but pausing,
not grieving,
time passing away.

Sunday, December 14, 2014


Come they close to earth
spinning forever from planets
Spread beyond where spacecraft
sought signals lost when angels
Once fought amongst the stars
in an endeavour
To reach through the tangle
surrounding what some say
was the old moon, but is now
just the lunatic loser 
Upon which all fear to tread.