Manga Popart Butterfly

Manga Popart Butterfly

Friday, December 16, 2016

Dear Poets:

Keep your words simple
like tree, sky or bird.

If I have to use a dictionary,
you're trying too hard...
and you lose me---
and it makes me sad

and I long for the days
when you sat in a wooden
chair at a wooden table
by an open window,
yellow pencil in hand
scribbling on a sheet of
white notebook paper,
a naked light bulb dangling
from a black wire.

I see your profile,
your eager face as you
write those simple words
describing the beauty
that flowed from your
mind to your fingers
and onto the page.

Those words were life,
bread & wine to me:
soul sustenance.
Come back to
who you were


Monday, December 12, 2016

Dear World:

What the fuck is
an environmentalist?  Why are so
many common sense ideas
now falsely defined
by idiots?

Why the horrifyingly asinine urge
to label every person and thing
to fit neatly into someone's
idea of _________.

Political correctness is
destroying the world
and language.

I'm a gardener:  a person who gardens.
I use no poisons:  I care about animals, bugs & my yard.
I'm a human being, not a label
or a political party or an 'ist'.

What is the opposite
of an environmentalist?
A polluter (all of us if we wipe our ass).
A contaminator? (all of us if we use any form of plastic, gas or oil).
A depletist?  REALLY??? Whose idea was THAT word?
It's actually another word for entropy, no?

I have a vagina, a uterus & ovaries,
therefore; I am a woman!  SIMPLE FACT!!!

I am called pro-life.
And the opposite:  pro-death???

Really?  You get my jist?

Stop it!  Just,


Wednesday, November 30, 2016

Dear 2016:

I am overjoyed that you're almost gone.

You've been a mostly painful year in EVERY 
sense of the word.  

And yet, as life knows,
there is always joy amidst the pain:
a new dog, Sadie, a little Terrier/Spaniel mix,
rescued from the animal shelter; my
longed for greenhouse, now full of plants; so many
amazing books; a home; my healthy family; 
a new President & hope for our great country;
an optimistic stock market; cats(!)

and a sense of humor...
which is everything...



Wednesday, November 23, 2016

Dear Thanksgiving:

Gratitude is a wonderful thing,
no matter the day or month.

Even though we're 'home alone' this year
eating chili & hot dogs, I am grateful.

I'm grateful to be alive---
so many family members & friends are not;

I am grateful for God's love, mercy & forgiveness;

I'm grateful for my precious loved ones &
that they're healthy & thriving;

I'm grateful for our new rescued
doggie, Sadie, even though she has heart worms
---I'm grateful to have
the money to give her life;

I'm grateful for books & poetry & literature
because, still, today, they keep me alive & curious;

I'm grateful to own a home & land where I can
grow my trees & gardens of herbs, flowers & vegetables
that bring me so much joy;

I am grateful for the freedoms we have in America
& for the leaders who will help protect those freedoms;

I am grateful for the friends who have stood by me
over the years through many storms & trials.

May every day be Thanksgiving,
filled with gratitude, kindness & love.


Sunday, November 20, 2016

Dear Political Correctness:

Here's a Thanksgiving joke you'll hate, so go fuck yourself! ;-)


Thanksgiving Dinner in 2016: 

"I'd like white meat, please." 


"OK, I'll take dark meat."


"Give me a breast then."


"Fine, I'll grab a thigh then."


"Geez, just pass me the ham." 




I'm so very grateful to God that we have a new President & HOPE for a brighter future for the first time in 8 years!!  xo

Saturday, November 19, 2016

Dear Mother Nature:

Thank you for the
Loveliness of Ladybugs
that have moved into
my fecund garden.

Yes, a Loveliness of Ladybugs!

Goodbye Aphids and
plant-eating pests!


Sunday, November 13, 2016

Dear Fellow Americans:

The election is over.
Put away your little safety pins
and put on your American flag pins.

Go see the movie, "Hacksaw Ridge"
then thank a Veteran for your freedoms.

Put away your vitriol
and accept the Democratic process
and work to make America great again.

Middle class America has spoken.

Now you know how WE felt for 8 long,
long, long years with a President
who did not speak for us or
respect our most basic beliefs.

Stop being sore losers,
crying like whining babies who
didn't get a trophy.
Violence, burning private property
and threatening others is not
the American way.

Love one another &
pray for our new leaders
to guide us wisely
into a brighter future!!


Tuesday, November 8, 2016

Dear Diary:

The best thing about you
is that my asshole husband
will never read these words.
He's too ignorant
to learn how to use
a computer.

He stole(!) my ink on paper words
and turned them into bricks
and throws them at me
at will.

I'm weary, so fucking weary
of dodging
my own beautiful words
and tripping on bricks
that were meant to be
landing places.

I need to run away
and hide.
Alone seems like
a perfect destination
for a rest-of-my-life


Friday, November 4, 2016

Dear Old:

I fucking HATE you.

The pain, the dry everything
that once was not,
the gravity, the falling,
the feigning, the lack of,
the emptiness, the clicking
& clacking of my bones,
the no-fucking-hormones,
the ugliness of bare,
the loss, the LOSS, THE LOSS,
the fat, the jowls, the bags,
the feeling like a hag,
the stench of death
where once was life,
the strife,
the longing for an ending,
the end of beginnings,
the day's glued to days,
the pain, the pain, the pain,
the regret, THE REGRET(!)
the no money, no vacation,
the stagnation,
the _______.


Sunday, October 30, 2016

Dear Halloween:

If only I could choose
one living thing to be
on All Hallow's Eve 
no costume would be needed, 
only magic:

I would be Moonflower & Moth
Both.  Simultaneously.
To experience the intoxicating night flower's scent, the drawing to me 
of the Sphinx Moth with my silky petals,
and the feel of her long proboscis
drinking my cool, sweet nectar
would be a treat worth remembering,


Thursday, October 27, 2016

Dear Autumn:

Where did you go?
Our cool nights faded,
back into heat...
no rain for two months,
dry, dry, dry!!!!

Saw 2 lonely dragonflies
yesterday, looking for water
at my 4 birdbaths.
They drank their fill
then flitted away.

October has been a
total clusterfuck.
I'm glad it's almost over.

October, don't let the door
hit you in the ass
on your way to November!!


Tuesday, October 25, 2016


My healthcare privacy was violated
yesterday at a local hospital ER visit.
I never saw a doctor, only a rude, cold,
bitchy nurse who should be fired.

After an X-Ray and a 3 hour wait in a hard chair,
in brutal pain, in a waiting room full of patients,
the nurse finally showed up and proceeds to tell me my diagnosis
in front of 12 or more strangers.  I asked a couple of
quick questions, wondering why the fuck
this incompetent IDIOT did not take me back to a private the HIPAA PRIVACY LAWS state.
I was in too much pain to prolong her idiocy.

She made me feel that I was putting her out by being there
and causing her to have to work.  I've been in many ER's in my life
but none were as bad as this one.  The woman was not even
remotely qualified to treat me.  She never once touched me...
only asked me to explain the difference between asphalt & concrete.
She kept interrupting me when I tried to tell her about my fall...
like she did not want to hear about it.

I was basically told I had bruised ribs & pulled muscles,
then given 10(!!) of the weakest pain pills on the market.
She asked my pain level when I limped in...and I said, "It's 10 and
feels like a knife twisting in my back every time I breathe."

Do yourself a favor & stay far, far away
from Rapides Regional Medical Center
in Alexandria, Louisiana.


Sunday, October 23, 2016

Dear Life:

WTF did I ever do to you?

I take a walk last Sunday.
I trip over a bump in
the walking trail...
more of a trap, really.

I fall so fast, breaking the fall
with my damaged right hand,
shoulder & side,
that I'm stunned.
I sit up, abruptly.  My husband asks
me if I'm okay.  He was ahead of me.

I reply that I knocked the breath out of myself...
...something I've not said since I
fell off my bicycle when I
was 11 years old.
I'd forgotten the feeling.
Whoosh!  No air!!
I sit, legs in front of me
and try to catch my breath.
It hurts like crazy.
I take shallow breaths.

Husband helps me up,
slowly.  My knee & hand
are skinned & bleeding.
Nothing feels broken.
I think my ribs are bruised.

My lung is injured.
Pneumothorax, I think.
One week of taking it easy
has done nothing to help
me feel better.
I can't lie flat on my back
or on eith side.

I give up!

Why this slow slide
into deeper & deeper pain?

ER visit tomorrow.
X-Ray & nothing more.
No one is inserting a chest tube
into my body,
causing me more pain.
I'd rather die.

Not one more iota of fucking pain.
No more!!!!!!!


Sunday, October 16, 2016

Dear Voters:

Get off your asses
next month and drag
them to the polls
or we'll end up with
a felon running our
exhausted, weary country.

Give a hard-working guy a chance
to prove himself.

America, we do NOT
need another professional
politician for president.

Think, then vote for
common sense,
vote for a working man,
Vote for Donald Trump!!!


Sunday, October 9, 2016

Dear Life:

Insomnia sucks...
So does pain,
uncaring doctors,
mean people,
and getting old.

But books on CD
make the long,
excrutiating nights

I'm tired
beyond belief.
So tired.


Monday, October 3, 2016

Dear Herman Melville:

Thank you for writing these immortal lines:

"Thou knowest not how came ye, hence callest thyself unbegotten; certainly knowest not thy beginning, hence callest thyself unbegun. I know that of me, which thou knowest not of thyself, oh, thou omnipotent. There is some unsuffusing thing beyond thee, thou clear spirit, to whom all thy eternity is but time, all thy creativeness mechanical. Through thee, thy flaming self, my scorched eyes do dimly see it. Oh, thou foundling fire, thou hermit immemorial, thou too hast thy incommunicable riddle, thy unparticipated grief. Here again with haughty agony, i read my sire. leap! leap up, and lick the sky! I leap with thee; I burn with thee; would fain be welded with thee; defyingly I worship thee!"

From:  "Moby Dick", page 501

Tuesday, September 27, 2016

Dear Life:

Cats can be so freaking entertaining.
Everyone should be owned by one or two.


Saturday, September 24, 2016

Dear Mother Nature:

About those vivid, little red leaves
that keep appearing (one per day!) in my
driveway every day this week:

where are they coming from?

All the trees in my yard
are still bright green...
with names like EVERGREEN!

The neighbors' trees are also
still green---
and yet, and yet, and YET---

every day this week, a solitary, small red leaf
has magically appeared in my habitual
path to the mailbox.

Thank you, Mother Nature/Universe
It has to be a gift, right?  Right!

It's been more healing
and heartwarming
than a bushel of rubies---

I feel as light as air...


Are gypsy fairies dropping them? :-)

Friday, September 23, 2016

Clowns Don't Just Show Up

Dear X_____:

After our first hour
of conversation---

(You tossing the hook, line & sinker
over & over...coming up baitless/fishless)---

I felt your pain,
then heard your pain in
the soft, barely perceptible 'tink'
of the full, then empty wine glass as you
periodically & regularly
sipped and tipped---
then set it on the table.

The faint, quiet whoosh of cigarette smoke
blown into the phone
surprised me as you
critiqued others
for smoking and drinking.

My, my, my.
But who am I to judge, right?

And yet you want to
help me arrange my life---

Strange...and sad.
I'm sorry for your pain,
but I'm tangled up
in my own right now...
We never actually got around
to me in that long
fishing expedition.

Dear World:

Clowns don't just show up...
Someone calls them
to come & make you laugh
or cry.

Girl, you've never once
phoned me before...

Why now?


Saturday, September 17, 2016

Dear Books:

You are my blood & bones,
my secret loves,
the morning dew
on my velvet-red roses...
my lifelines
in a world without
trees or toeholds...

Every book I've ever read
has been a love letter
to my heart & soul.

I love you, books.
You have never betrayed me.
This is MY love letter
back to you.

Paper + ink = Love.


Sunday, September 4, 2016

My Mother

...was an uneducated barmaid
after my father died
when I was very young.
I basically raised myself
among always-drunk relatives
and their handsy old friends.
I wore rags & hand-me-downs
to school and
got one pair of shoes a year.

Summer was barefoot time...
and therefore pinworms from
walking where the mangy dogs
shit and pissed day after day.
That medicine was nasty.
Lunch was bologna sandwiches
devoured on the porch
with red kool-aid.

Grocery list:
beer, bread & bologna.

The heat was oppressive.

My siblings & I roamed all summer,
usually over the levee along
the Red River.
We stayed out past dark playing
kick the can.  Nobody called
us in to take a bath.
We usually slept dirty,
just washing our feet.

Mama's boyfriends
sometimes came over.
One had a truck & they
loaded the 3 of us in back of
the truck.  It was cold.
We had no coats
so we huddled
together to keep warm
as a drunk stranger drove
us through the frigid night.
I only recall cold & fear &
the sweet warmth of my
skinny sisters' bodies.

I miss the childhood I never had.


Saturday, September 3, 2016

Dear God:

You said:

1 Corinthians 10:13 - "There hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man: but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it."


What to do now that You have abandoned me?



Friday, September 2, 2016

Dear Hurricane:

No offense to Florida
or to the East Coast,
but thank you for
flying into the
bath water-warm
Gulf of Mexico
and demolishing Louisiana
yet again.

I don't think
we could take
even one more


Monday, August 29, 2016

Dear Big Pharma:

...after years of trying to find
an antidepressant to ease the
pain of craving non-existence,
I found a new medication.

My dr. gave me a free months'
worth of samples & a coupon, she said,
that would assure I paid no more
than $10 per month for this new
miracle drug, for one whole year. I was hoping to be MUCH BETTER
after a year of treatment...and to discontinue it.

Three week's into taking the drug
I called my pharmacist, coded coupon in hand,
to make sure this bargain was kosher,
having been burned before.
She then proceeded to tell me that
the one medication
that had made me feel happy & calm
in over ten years was not covered under
my insurance plan.

I calmly explained the coupon & she said,
"Read the fine print under the guaranteed $10 price."
I tiny, purposely-faded letters it said,
'pays up to $100 not covered by insurance.'

How much could 30 tiny pills cost?

Turns out this anti-depressant was $375 per bottle.
With my bogus $10 coupon, they'd be $275 per month.

Now, after weeks of conquering debilitating side effects,
a few weeks of happiness (so this is what it feels like...I'd forgotten)!
I now face withdrawing from this medicine
that works and falling back down the rabbit hole
of despair, hopelessness and sadness...

It doesn't seem fair, or right.


Thursday, August 25, 2016

Monday, August 22, 2016

Dear Life:

Thank you for my friend, Angie,
who never judges me & always listens
to me.  Thank you for her Reiki
mastery which taught her how
to send healing energy.
Her love & friendship
holds me together, often...

Thank you for the sweet,
beautiful, Black lady
with the cool feather tattoo
standing behind me
at Starbucks who told me
with a gorgeous smile
to have a great day.
I did.

Thank you for the day
of photographing
shotgun houses
which propelled me
to another place & time.
It was magical.

Thank you
for a day without rain
after weeks of sky-tears.


Monday, August 15, 2016

Dear Rain:

Rain, rain, go away;
come again some other day.
Perhaps on a dry day.

My precious state is, yet again,
suffering the pangs of
inclement, harsh, brutal,
extreme weather.
Floods, flash floods.
Water came into my house,
but only the back half,
thank goodness...

One minute it was dry and
the next, my feet were in
a puddle as I sat in my recliner.
I moved fast...picking up books
on the floor, rolling up my one good
rug and throwing down towels.
It was a mess, but only for 24 hours.
We sopped and mopped and
things were dry by morning.

Not so south of us.  One-third of
the state is devastated, under water
from flooding rain that parked and
stayed over the Baton Rouge area.

It's still raining now, only gently.
Thundering enough to rattle
my old windows, too...

Pray for the people whose homes and
businesses are flooded.  I can't imagine
the loss, pain, suffering & work ahead of them...



Wednesday, August 10, 2016

Dear Heart:

I feel tabula rasa,
blank page,
faceless clock,
newborn baby's soul,
seed sprouting,
bluebird egg hatching,
dragonfly nymph emerging
from brackish swamp,
raindrop forming
from ether...


tossd away 
like trash.

Is this nirvana?
Or is this hell?

...only time will tell.


Friday, August 5, 2016

Dear Depression:

Every human being should
have to experience depression at
least one week of their lives.
(Not that I'd ever wish it upon anyone!)

     To give them a teeny-tiny chance at empathy...

Not "down in the dumps" depression,

but, "I want to die every minute
of every day" depression; "I'm walking in quicksand
and sinking fast" depression;
I don't really know why the fuck
I'm even depressed" depression.  Does there even need to be
a reason?  Hell, no!  Some think so.  Is it an illness, a chemical imbalance, a mental illness?  Yes, yes, and yes!!!

Depression is NOT simply
feeling sorry for yourself. We've all done that
at one point or other.  It's
a horrifying monster attached to your psyche
draining/sucking your energy & your very life from you.

Merriam-Webster dictionary defines depression like this:

(1)  :  a state of feeling sad :(2)  :  a psychoneurotic disorder marked especially by sadness, inactivity, difficulty in thinking and concentration, a significant increase or decrease in appetite and time spent sleeping, feelings of dejection and hopelessness, and sometimes suicidal tendencies.

Well, that's a good's much more than that.

If you're experiencing depression

or suicidal tendencies
PLEASE seek help:

U.S. National Suicide Prevention Helpline:


Worldwide Suicide Crisis Sites to HELP YOU!

And definitely talk to a Family Physician
or to a caring friend or family member

I also highly recommend that, should
you seek empathy/help from a family member
who berates you or does not help/believe you,
then go to a physician or clinic
where you WILL find nonjudgmental empathy,
sympathy, and help...and remember,
you can and will get better!


Monday, August 1, 2016

Hello, August...

Forget the wet, blistering heat for a moment...
and notice the small, orange butterflies
flitting from late flowering weed to
late flowering weed.
Yes, weeds have a purpose
as does everything in nature---

No slackers allowed!

Consider the flowers going to seed
in the wavy, visible heat...
just doing their jobs, joyfully.

Collect the dry seed pods tenderly---
Carefully, now, don't drop any!
Their seeds are next year's
pinks & reds & purples---
God's crayon box
used with abandon.

Hello, August!


Friday, July 29, 2016

Dear Friday:

Come on,
bring more rain like yesterday's:
thunder, great gusts of wind
and buckets & buckets
of glorious water-from-above
making mud where
once were trees.  I know
that Mother Nature will
take what she so generously gives
and multiply it infinitely
to repair man's folly.

I am not a friend of change.
I do not go with the flow.
I try; I fail.
I fail; I try.
I've never been fluid,
more like a rock
embedded in limestone
in an undiscovered cave.

Nothing in life
can prepare you
for constant, unending



Friday, July 22, 2016

Well, Fuckity Fuck, Fuck, Fuck...

"This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper."  T. S. Eliot

          ~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^'s well over a thousand acres sold
in the swampy, gorgeous woods formerly
across the street from me
that are going, gone,
gone.  Red dirt flying,
dead animals rotting
and a neighborhood crying.

Fuck you, International Paper:
killers, murderers, ecosystem rapers,
greedy bastards.

Rumors are multiplying like
rabbits in the first warmth of Spring.
Everything from new, ritzy neighborhood
(who the fuck wants to build a house
in a flood zoned swamp full of alligators
beside the railroad tracks?)

There's a lake back there...
Are they going to drain it,
kill the alligators
and fill it with dirt?  Hmmm...

I hear the 2 a.m. train's lonely
whistle most nights/mornings(?)
and I'm a mile away.

Then there's the trailer park theory
cuz we all know trash lives by the tracks,

Mud racing track...
Replanting of Pines...
Apartment complex...
Aluminum plant (newspaper had this one)...

No matter, really.  The trees are gone.
The animals are all still dead.
The world I've known for
26 years has vanished in a week...

Fuck change.

My Cypress tree produced
almost 30 baby trees this year.
I found them a few weeks ago,
hiding in the grass...tiny trees, inches tall,
reaching for the sky...

As if mother nature is gently
reassuring me
that she always wins
in the end.


Thursday, July 14, 2016


...I am sadder than sad.
I am madder than mad
at the ignorance,
& stupidity & GREED
of some people.

The 40 or so acres of
untamed, mature forest, swampy land across
from my home has been sold
(land that's never been touched or developed)
to a heartless bastard who
buys beautiful, rural land
only to clear cut it for the timber...
timber sold for maybe $25,000 or less after costs!
A paltry sum for an already-wealthy
An old, valuable ecosystem destroyed
...for what?  For what?????????!?!

It's mostly swampland,
no hardwood, 95% Pine trees (well, about 20% now)...

Why pillage/destroy this ecosystem
for a few thousand dollars?
It will flood now...much worse...
It already flooded before this
rape of the earth, but the trees
and thick underbrush helped
to hold back some of the flooding,
but no more...

I am too sad for words.
what a fucking mess
one greedy person can make...

happy birthday, my ass.

Monday, July 4, 2016

Dear Blank Page:

I sit in my comfortable chair with the gauzy curtains
on my picture window drawn wide open.  The sun has only just
slipped beneath the horizon and
I can no longer see the Pines
that peek into my house all day, every day
when the fireworks begin
in my neighborhood...

BOOMS mean I run to see the fast fading colors
of big bucks exploding into green, red and purple
sparks turning to dry, gray ash.
The pop-pop-pop of firecrackers
fill the expansive spaces
between the expensive BOOMS!

I see sparklers, like giant fireflies
moving in small circles made by
excited little hands getting their
first taste of Independence Day celebrations!

9:00 p.m., the city fireworks begin and
even though they're miles away, I can hear
the echoes of the BIG fireworks show
over the mighty Red River.  I close my eyes
and experience the dozens of celebrations we
went to when our kids were home.  We lived
close enough to walk to the River carrying
our lawn chairs & cold cokes with us.

I say a prayer for our men and women
in uniform, working & fighting to protect
our freedoms.  God bless you all and
keep you safe... and a special prayer
for those precious people here in the USA
and around the world experiencing
senseless terror, harm and brutal deaths...

May God give His Peace, Love, Comfort, Grace
and tender Mercy
to all of you in need.

Goodnight, dear diary,


There's a flame of magic inside every stone & every flower, every bird that sings & every frog that croaks. There's magic in the trees & the hills & the river & the rocks, in the sea & the stars & the wind, a deep, wild magic that's as old as the world itself. It's in you too, my darling girl, and in me, and in every living creature, be it ever so small. Even the dirt I'm sweeping up now is stardust. In fact, all of us are made from the stuff of stars.”   ― Kate ForsythThe Puzzle Ring

Wednesday, June 29, 2016

I had one foot out the kitchen door when...

...I looked down and saw that God/the Universe still has a sense of humor...
Before coffee, even!

Here's what I saw:

...There, to the left of my kitchen door,
in a brick CORNER was the prettiest,
medium-sized Box Turtle with orange spots on her head.
She's the cutest I've seen this year and let me tell you,
I've seen plenty!  Can you say SWAMP and
and in BACK of my house?  I need road signs that say:

Yes, I've seen all that and so much more...
     Alligators one block away this Spring when it flooded...

Signs would be super fine if my road actually
had any traffic, which, thank God, it does not
except for the 4 families who live on
this hidden, out-of-the-way Boulevard in the woods.

Ms. Turtle apparently had a load of shit on her mind,
took a walk out of the woods, crossed the street and
walked straight as an arrow up my driveway, onto
the carport and then literally hit the wall/corner
and was trying as hard as she could to just keep on trucking.

Her back legs were walking, but she was going nowhere fast in that
boxed-in, head-in-shell corner situation she'd walked right into.
What a perfect metaphor for how I've been feeling!!!  S-T-U-C-K!

     Oh, Ms. Turtle, I feel your pain!

So I put some water in a shallow container,
picked up Ms. Turtle and sat her in the water on the lawn.
She splashed around some, took a drink, then hit the grass,
Turtle-scootin' back to her home and family.

And that's just how God takes care of me...the
way he cared for that lost, confused Turtle,
stuck in a bricked-in corner.  He lifts me up, gently...

Hope.  In a Turtle suit.
I like that.


Friday, June 24, 2016

I walked out the kitchen door...

barefoot...onto the carport...and into the front yard.

I inhaled the scent of freshly cut grass,
admiring the vivid greens against the
aching cobalt of
Southern Summer sky.

A Mockingbird landed to
fetch a worm or grub, then
sat on a telephone wire to
sing me a dozen tunes.

I was not looking up,

I was still looking at my wet,
clipped-grass-coated feet
sunk into the soft, spongy lawn
and enjoying the serenade.

I was, to be redundant, at that moment,
looking the ground,

when a shadow,
a wide shadow,
an unusually large shadow
passed over my own
verdant-footed shadow..., it glided,
right over me.

I, of course, looked
straight up into the sun
and saw spots,
then walked in circles,
head upturned,
knowing it was a Hawk,
a big, beautiful predator
hunting for breakfast.

The Mockingbird
quickly left...

Finally, I spotted the Hawk
still gliding, wings outstretched,
drifting on an air current
along the edge of
the woods, the Ent-like Pines.

I stood transfixed,
watching reverently
until it vanished...
as in a lucid dream
into a fast approaching
storm cloud.


Sunday, June 19, 2016

The Moon...

...last night
painted a perfect window
upon my bedroom floor
with the softest strokes of
palest white moonbeams.

It was a sweet waking dream
to slowly arise and
to stand for a moment
in those elusive beams...

Saturday, June 18, 2016

I Am A Rock...

...I am an island...

I have my books
and my poetry to protect me... ~Paul Simon, from 'I Am A Rock'


It's an illusion, of course,
but a good one...being protected
by my hundreds of poetry books
and the words...oh, the words
contained therein!
The perfect words in
the perfect
how I see/feel/experience poetry.
This, too, shall pass.

Just enough gentle rain falling to
cool us down ten degrees and
water the gardens.

A good friend's birthday
today, a reason to be happy
for another...

June is running downhill as
fast as she can, full tilt boogie
into a tall brick wall...

Thursday, June 16, 2016

Hello, Thursday

Wake at 5:55 a.m.
Feed cats
          Purring can be a sign of injury or pain...not only contentment.
Brush teeth
Make coffee
Slip into flip-flops

Water plants & garden front & back yard & hose off patio (Raccoons are messy)
Fill all bird baths with clean water
          Birdsong, bird calls, birdtalk, birdlove, birds...
Smell the Lavender & Mint awakening, wet with morning dew
          Crushing herbs releases their scents...c-r-u-s-h-i-n-g!!
Take Hummingbird feeders inside: wash and fill and put back in place
Marvel at Tomatoes & Squash & Kale & Swiss Chard
          Tomatoes belong to the deadly Nightshade family... 
Laugh at the 4 cats, happy to be outside with me

Thank God/Buddha/Mary/Mother Earth for my blessings
           Hail Mary, full of grace, our Lord is with thee.
          Blessed art thou among women,
          and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus...

Watch the sun slowly carpet the wet grass with sparkling diamonds

Drink coffee:  nectar of the gods!
Read my Bible...still enjoying Psalms
          He leadeth me beside still waters; He restoreth my soul---

Morning news/blues
Shower & dress for a 97 degree day
Make grocery list
Check emails & FB
Laundry time

All this before 8:00 a.m.
Women are super heroes...

Why do we long/pine for romance & men, to rut like dogs...

Friday, June 10, 2016

And the days go by... a strand

in the wind

in the web that is my own...

I begin again...


The clouds never expect it
when it rains

but the sea changes colors
but the sea

does not change...

and so with the slow,
graceful flow
of age
I went forth with an age old

desire to please...

~Stevie Nicks, from Edge of Seventeen


Hence, the pain...
     desire to please...

Friday, June 3, 2016

The Squeaky Wheel...

...gets the most grease.
Common fucking sense, that one.

And I got my books, only two days late and
after 3 phone calls, 5 or 6 emails to
grammatically illiterate bots that were
never taught the King's English,
one rant to Jeff Bezos
and one "live chat" or
so it claimed.

Etcetera.  Ha!

Raining again, thunder booming
and water, water everywhere, frogs croaking
euphoric tunes...make that ecstatic.  What's with
that anyhow?  Frogs-dotdotdot-are amphibians.


Frogs may croak after rainfall because they become attracted to the wet atmosphere and use their croaks as mating calls. Because of this, frogs are very likely to mate during a rainy season.

I sooooo love this!!!  Rain makes
frogs horny!!  Me, too!!! What about Toads???
LOL???  What did we
EVER do before

We dragged our asses over to the
shelf with the white Encyclopedias
which our Mama paid for monthly
for over a year.  We ate bologna
and Spam sandwiches
in exchange for having knowledge
at hand.  Oh, how I loved
those books!  I'd sit and read them for
hours and hours...

This generation takes it's knowledge
for granted. They didn't have to
walk to the television
to turn the channel to get one
of only three channels...
It's all in their fucking pocket,
the little lazy whippersnappers,
at the touch of a screen...and it's sad.
Tick, tock...
dear Millenials:  you're going to miss the
Boomers when we're all dead and gone.

Thursday, June 2, 2016


Dear Diary,

Listening to Belladonna album.
Vinyl album, not CD or IPod.
No one can cheer a person like
Stevie Nicks on a hot,
depressing, rainy day.

And the lady is feeling
like the moon that she loves...

For two days I've been chewing's ass via telephone,
email, Twitter, snail mail
and live chats.  All I want is my
2nd day delivery, which I pay for
via Amazon Prime and haven't
gotten this entire year.

How can a billionaire,
Jeff Bezos, run a company that can't
even deliver a box of books
on time?  Hmmmmmm????????

It pisses me off and
perplexes the hell out of me.
He's got 1,000 employees
working on Artificial Intelligence
and can't get my books to me
in 2 days.  WTF is up with that?

The clouds never expect it
when it rains...but the sea changes color...
but the sea does not change...

Hey Jeff, here's an idea:  put half of those brainiacs
in the fucking shipping department to
figure out the basics first!!!

I'm on a mission, now.
I sent him a brutal email which I doubt he'll see
much less answer, and told him he needs
to handle up or I'm out of there.
Trust me, I've been making that dude
money since 1999.  LOL!  I laugh
because big corporate assholes
don't give a shit
about nobody-readers like me.

Stop dragging my heart around...

And such is my life.

Wednesday, June 1, 2016

What Day Is It?

Dear Diary,

The morning grass is soft and wet
with dew
as I walk barefooted
in my pajamas to pick blueberries
in the back yard.  I hop over spots with
stickers (trust me, I know them all)
and little broken branches
fallen from my giant Water Oak.
Through the heavy, leaning
wooden gate I tippy toe
and take five steps to
the tall, old, faithful bushes.

The ripe, fat berries fall willingly
into my eager hands.
Fingers to berry to mouth,
eat, pick, repeat.
No blueberry muffins
yesterday or today...
and probably not
I eat my fill, leaving the
highest branches for
the birds.

The sun is hidden
behind low, white
clouds, heavy with rain
on this first day of
hurricane season:  humid,
hot and sultry.  Even the
birdsong is muted
like they, too, miss
yesterday's sunshine.

Come to think of it...
It doesn't really matter
what day it
does it?

Lonely Girl

"Rain makes me feel less alone. All rain is, is a cloud- falling apart, and pouring its shattered pieces down on top of you. It makes me feel good to know I'm not the only thing that falls apart . It makes me feel better to know other things in nature can shatter.”   ― Lone Alaskan Gypsy

Saturday, May 28, 2016

Ah, Saturday---

...for those of us who've worked office jobs
most of our lives, Saturday equals freedom:
sleeping late, doing chores undone all week, shopping
for food, cooking, laundry, gardening, reading---a few
precious hours to relax...although most of this
sounds like work, too, but for the reading.

Squeeze in some writing,
if you can, and dream about the imaginary day
in the future when you'll have unlimited
time to daydream and write your heart out...
pen in hand, endless pages of paper...

Your heart, that hourglass inside you
that wakes you on moonless nights as
the grains of sand falling down,
down, down sound like
boulders crashing on glass when, in your youth,
they were marshmallows against marshmallows,
soundless, quiet as death...

Saturday, the only good day out of seven.
Sunday, a feeling of dread returns...going
back to the job you hate, with coworkers
you'd never in a million years socialize with, much
less spend eight long hours a day with... all so you'll have
insurance, rent and food...
never knowing, never guessing that
tomorrow never comes, will never, ever come
no matter how long or how fast you run.

The hourglass always wins.
The grains run out in the end.
The grains run out in the end.


Friday, May 27, 2016

Dear Diary:

So, it's Friday of a long weekend...
Memorial Day when we honor those who
served our country.
Thank you...and God Bless You!

Thunder is rolling
across the gunmetal sky
as it cries big, fat crocodile tears.
That's what my Aunt called
our whining tears as kids.

No barbecue today!

My tomatoes and squash
are laughing in neon green,
stoned on the first storm
in weeks...happy.
Lemongrass is shining...
Comfrey's pining for skin
to heal. Basil's humping
Tomatoe's stems
wanting to marry
their flavors...

Wet cats, towel-dried
meows amplified...
Drip, drip, drip of the
slowly slowing rain.
Yes, there's still pain,
but muted, like sound
through a foam bucket.
Muted is better than
loud and blaring,
bright and glaring...
endlessly hurting.

I limp.  I'm a gimp.

But, dear diary, trust me when I say,
there's a heavy price to pay...
for a tiny bit of muting...
Too heavy for mere words,
Too heavy---too, too heavy---


"How do we know that our life really happened and that we are not simply accumulating details, making it all up as we go along?” 
                                                          ― Rachel KleinThe Moth Diaries

Thursday, May 26, 2016

Dear Thursday:


You woke me with pain, you bitch.
Nothing different from all the yesterday's of recent years.
Hives all over my legs
and fear bubbling around in my mouth.
Sores there, too.
Some diet plan,
I'll blame a man...aren't
they the root of all evil?
Especially the root.
Makes me think of sharp knives
and freedom.
Too early for this shit.
Soaked in an oatmeal & comfrey bath...
Shaved my legs! Ha!
Haven't done that in weeks.
Why bother?
Thursday, you did one good thing
today:  you brought me books!
My lifeline since I could read.

Online diary because my journals were
ransacked and their words
tossed at me like heavy stones
ever since.  Getting beaten with
your own private truth is too brutal
for words.  Hmmmm, there's the
cause of the hives.
He's computer illiterate,
so I'll write my heart out here
where no stones can reach me...

I'll think I'll go lie on my $100 bargain couch
and read myself silly, there among my
shelves of books
and my Tarot card & doll collection.
Why not?  P'raps these hives will
disappear if I ignore them.  Scratch, scratch.

That's it for today,
dear diary.
It can only get
better from here...