Monday, October 31, 2011

There is a boat pulled by a wooden dragon, intricately carved by a master.  It is here we will live forever singing and smiling.  We are the lullaby.


I'm haunted by a certain history
Chasing words
Breaking to cry alone in a room
The little boys pinch my heart the most
With their dirty cold bony fingers
Gazing into their gray-less orbs in the
Stretched parchment of ashen faces
I feel the drop and the prickle of the
Past of a mother

When does the turn strike
Scorpions lop off the heads of growing babies
Clinging under the shawls in the laps of their mothers
Their sick sarcastic laughter sprays spit
Over petrified stones under clothes

The moon and the cross guilty with daggers
Never cleaning fingernails
Dry cracked knuckles caked with black oil
From shoe or gun polish
Soft white hair, ashes, globs, and bone splinters
Crows carrying off ribbons
Pink sea foam and sand fleas eaten by crabs

Elephant Dream

In a faded black and white with a deckle edge
a barn holds an elephant
She carries the acrobat through the fresh morning air 
Roses would be red in a chromatic future
Fragrance of heaven
Crushed in the powder
In the box on the back of the commode
Under the towel with the little cats' footprints 
There will always be pickles in a jar
With a sprig of dill looking like a raped snowflake 
Her white sunglasses were too big for her face
Her hair hung like yellow drapes
I stood glued to the asphalt
holding onto the car door
Gasping at the beauty in my path.
I didn't know there was an elephant club
Twirling batons on this secret path
For girls who lived to dream

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Dreams and Memories

Our dreams are memories
Wrapping around us in midnight blue
Changing the days reality when work
Zaps away what we wish we are.
In the night many friends will be near
Familiar pavement and a fountain
A place from over 20 years ago
I remember when summer crisps near its end.
Dreams and memories forever intertwine

I've forgotten a bag miles away in my childhood bedroom.
The glass elevator takes us down to the pool.
The rug is red with yellow and black design.
The sidewalk crumbles over the tree root on 7th Street. 
The dog run cages in wolves.
The Arctic circle spins as I cling to the ice's edge
Do you remember the locker combination? 

Human Fledgling

I'm cutting the threads.
Well, I've given up the scissors
To a more talented seamstress.
One with more training.
Infinite knowledge is so much more than
I could ever collect.

Oh how it hurts me to watch the
Rain blur the images of the photographs of my mind's eye.
I can't feel the electricity whirring in their minds.
I can't hear the voices leading them to choices and dreams.
I can't feel the ache and the hiding of their emotions.
Truths and lies mean nothing, if I suppose.

I'm riding away on the dark carriage.
I can smell the dust on my horses haunch.
Cold sweat on his warm coat and the pulsing of his veins
Ground my feet when I rub his shoulder.
I know we are talking with our eyes with the language void of words.
He massages my heart and maple syrup coats the creaky spots.

Voice streams through the holes in the receiver microphone.
Is this a story of an entertainer I do not know that
Tugs my tendons with a silent plea of loneliness?
I can listen when I'm severed.
Words get scrambled in translation.
When I forget to breathe, it hurts. 

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Age 39

I just turned age 39 last Wednesday.
I am happy to realize that I can make a mess in my own house.
I can get paint on the floor or the furniture.
My son drew a picture on my closet door w/ a black crayon.
I know why he did it.

There is no reason.

I drew my face on my shadow on the wall in my bedroom.
I was almost his age.
I made up a lie and said the paper moved.
The stuffed alligators watched from the ledge.
My son just said he did it, no reason.

There is progress and change.

My cats ripped the couch.  
My kids pulled out red yarn from my friend's afghan to use with their toys.
I remember painting with dolls' hair.
I stuffed spitballs into the TV.
My bedroom is supposed to be a living room.

What the hell is a living room?

My kids play on my bed.
They go in my drawers and pull out my outfit to wear for Halloween.
I can smell the rhythm of their breathing.
The toilet leaks, but the floor isn't rotten, yet.
Give me a couple months we just replaced the computer.

I'm embroidering trees where someday I will walk.

Project Research

Divinity, return me to the central truth I've always known embedded in all creation.
La divinidad, me regreso a la verdad central que siempre he sabido incrustado en toda la creación. Spanish
اللاهوت، وعودة لي أن الحقيقة المركزية كنت دائما جزءا لا يتجزأ من المعروف في جميع الخلق. Arabic
神,我到中央的真相,我一直都知道在所有的創造嵌入式Traditional chinese
Godheid, stuur my na die sentrale waarheid Ek het altyd geweet ingebed in die hele skepping. Afrikaans
Божественность, вернуть меня к центральной правде, я всегда знал, встроенных во всем творении. Russian
Božství, vrátí mi centrální pravdě jsem vždycky věděl, součástí všech stvoření. Czech
Božanstvo, mi se vratili na središnjem istina uvijek sam poznat ugrađen u sva stvorenja. Croatian
Divinité, moi de revenir à la vérité centrale que j'ai toujours connue intégré dans toute la création. French
Divinità, mi ritorno alla verità centrale che ho sempre saputo incorporato in tutta la creazione. Italian
Divinity, kehren mir die zentrale Wahrheit, die ich immer gewusst habe in der ganzen Schöpfung eingebettet. German
האלוהות, להחזיר אותי אל האמת מרכזי תמיד ידוע מוטבע כל הבריאה. Hebrew
Divinity, returnere meg til den sentrale sannhet jeg alltid har visst innebygd i all skapelse. Norweigan
Božstva, vráti mi centrálne pravde som vždy vedel, súčasťou všetkých stvorení. Slovak
Աստվածայնության, վերադառնում ինձ կենտրոնական ճշմարտությունը Ես միշտ հայտնի ներդրված բոլոր ստեղծման. Armenian
Divinity vissza nekem, hogy a központi igazság Mindig tudtam ágyazva minden teremtmény. Hungarian
दिव्यता, मुझे केंद्रीय सच मैं हमेशा से जानता हूँ सारी सृष्टि में एम्बेडेड के लिए वापसी. Hindi
الہیات، مجھے مرکزی سچ میں ہمیشہ تمام مخلوق میں نام سے جانا جاتا ہے ایمبیڈڈ واپس. Urdu
พระเจ้ากลับฉันไปที่ความจริงกลางที่ฉันได้รู้จักกันเสมอในการสร้างที่ฝังตัวทั้งหมด thai
Divinity, kembali saya dengan kebenaran inti saya selalu tahu tertanam dalam semua ciptaan. Indonesian
Divinum revertere ad me ipsum semper veritate cognita integer enim in universo mundo. Latin
Guðdómleika aftur mér að þungamiðja ég hef alltaf vitað embed skapað. Icelandic
Divinity, dom filleadh ar an fhírinne lárnach ar a dtugtar leabaithe i gcónaí i ngach chruthú. Irish
Božanskost, Return to osrednjo resnico sem vedno znan Embedded v vsem stvarstvu. Slovenian
Divinity, ar ais mé go dtí an fhírinne lárnach leabaithe i gcónaí ar eolas agus gach a chruthú. Irish
Pagka-diyos, bumalik ako sa gitnang katotohanan na palaging kilala ko na naka-embed sa lahat ng paglikha. Filipino
신성, 내가 항상 알려진 모든 피조물 포함된했던 중앙 진실에 반환합니다. Korean
Théologie, retounen m 'nan sa a verite a santral Mwen te toujou li te ye entegre nan tout kreyasyon an. Haitian Creole
Θεότητα, με την επιστροφή στην κεντρική αλήθεια που έχω πάντα γνωστή ενσωματωμένες σε όλη τη δημιουργία. Greek
Ketuhanan, kembali saya kepada kebenaran pusat Saya selalu dikenali tertanam dalam semua ciptaan. Malay
Divinity, ritorn għalija li l-verità ċentrali stajt dejjem magħrufa inkorporati fil-ħolqien. Maltese
Divinity, tillbaka mig till den centrala sanningen Jag har alltid vetat inbäddad i hela skapelsen. Swedish
Uungu, kurudi kwangu ukweli wa mara zote inayojulikana iliyoingia katika viumbe wote. Swahili
தெய்வீகம், நான் எப்போதும் அழைக்கப்படும் அனைத்து உருவாக்குவதில் பதிக்கப்பட்ட நான் மத்திய உண்மையை என்னை திருப்பி. Tamil
דיוויניטי, קריק מיר צו די הויפט אמת איך'ווע שטענדיק געוואוסט עמבעדיד אין אַלע שאַפונג. Yiddish
Divinity, trả lại cho tôi sự thật trung tâm tôi đã luôn luôn được biết đến nhúng vào trong mọi tạo vật. Vietnamese
Божественність, повернути мене до центральної правді, я завжди знав, вбудованих в усьому творінні. Ukrainian
İlahiyat, beni, ben her zaman bilinen tüm yaratılışın gömülü ettik merkezi gerçeği. Turkish
దైవత్వం, నేను ఎల్లప్పుడూ తెలిసిన అన్ని సృష్టి లో పొందుపర్చిన చేసిన కేంద్ర నిజం నాకు తిరిగి. Telugu
Divinitatea, mi-a reveni la adevărul central Intotdeauna am cunoscut inglobate in intreaga creatie. Romanian
الهیات ، من بازگشت به حقیقت اصلی من همیشه شناخته شده در تمام خلقت تعبیه شده. Persian
Divinity, mnie z powrotem do sedna Zawsze wiadomo, osadzone w całym stworzeniu. Polish
Divindade, me devolva a verdade central que eu sempre soube embutidos em toda a criação. Portuguese
Divinity, palaa minut keskeiseen totuuteen Olen aina tiennyt upottaa koko luomakunnan. Finnish
Divinity, tagastab mulle keskne tõde ma olen alati teadnud varjatud kõigi looming. Estonia
Dievišķība, atgriezties man centrālo patiesību es vienmēr esmu pazīstams iestrādāta visiem radīšanu. Latvian
অমরত্ব, কেন্দ্রিয় সত্য আমি সবসময় করেছি সব সৃষ্টির পরিচিত এমবেডেড আমাকে ফেরত. Bengali
İlahiyat, mən həmişə tanınan bütün yaradılması daxil olduğunuz mərkəzi həqiqəti mənə qaytarın. Azerbaijani
Hyjnia, kthimi mua për të vërtetën qendrore e kam njohur gjithmonë të ngulitura në të gjithë krijimin. Albanian
Divinity, itzultzeko me erdiko egia beti dut ezagutzen sorkuntza guztiak txertatu. Basque
Боскасць, вярнуць мяне да цэнтральнай праўдзе, я заўсёды ведаў, убудаваных ва ўсім стварэння. Belarusian
Божествеността, ме да се върнете към централната истината, винаги съм известен вградени в цялото творение. Bulgarian
La divinitat, em retorn a la veritat central que sempre he sabut incrustat en tota la creació. Catalan
Guddommelighed, tilbage mig til den centrale sandhed, jeg har altid vidst indlejret i hele skabelsen. Danish
Goddelijkheid, terug te keren me naar de centrale waarheid die ik altijd al gekend zijn ingebed in de hele schepping. Dutch
Divindade, me devolva a verdade central que sempre soubo embutidos en toda a creación. Galician
Divinity დაბრუნება ჩემთვის ცენტრალური სიმართლე მე ყოველთვის ცნობილი ჩართული ყველა შექმნა. Georgian
પરમ દિવ્યતા, મને કેન્દ્રિય સત્ય હું હંમેશા જાણીતા કરેલા બધા બનાવટ જડિત કરવા માટે આવો. Gujarati
Divinity, kembali saya dengan kebenaran inti saya selalu tahu tertanam dalam semua ciptaan. Indonesian
ಡಿವಿನಿಟಿ ನಾನು ಯಾವಾಗಲೂ ಕರೆಯಲ್ಪಡುವ ಎಲ್ಲಾ ಸೃಷ್ಟಿಯಲ್ಲಿ ಎಂಬೆಡೆಡ್ ಮಾಡಿದ ಕೇಂದ್ರ ಸತ್ಯ ನನಗೆ ಮರಳುತ್ತಾರೆ. Kannada
Dieviškumo, grąžinkite man centrinė tiesa, visada žinomas įterptos visos kūrinijos. Lithuanian
Божество, ми се врати на централната вистина јас сум секогаш да се познавал вградени во секое создание. Macedonian
Божанство, ми да се вратим централној истина ја сам увек познато уграђени у свим стварања. Serbian
Divinity, yn dychwelyd i mi y gwirionedd canolog Ive 'bob amser yn hysbys yn rhan annatod o holl greadigaeth. Welsh

Friday, September 16, 2011

Losing the Lorax

Could you spare some tin
for this pint of blood?
I've locked my keys inside
searching for a spare can of tuna

The pavement cracks
support the grickle grass
Little piles of fine gravel
an ant hill making sand
in the sea of asphalt

Boxes are melting on the other side
of the window
Shelves are covered in dust
and an old box of plastic cutlery rusts.

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Winter Wander Dream

I look out the window
So high off the ground
I watch through the
Snow-strained branches
Of the tallest tree
Within reach through the panes

No one is out there
This mid-afternoon
The neighborhood is napping

I try, but am unable to dial the phone
I hear someone slowly
Climbing the stairs
I remain hunched on the beanbag
Watching the snow
Feeling alone

I’d rather climb down those branches
Than go out the front door
I am waiting where I should not be

The Siblings

My children see small things, too
They find laughter under stones
The young one brings the old one comfort
And the old one protects the young one.
Partners holding tight to each other
In our spinning world

Like a Mouse

I see the mother of one of my friends in my dreams
Rearranging thrift shop antiques in the crannies
of a giant old house on college row
The kind partitioned into a labyrinth of dorms
I'm always getting lost in a twisty attic
Equiped with an "Alice in Wonderland" hidden door
I always try to catch her
I long to talk to her
I'm moving too slowly
She can't hear me and she leaves
before I can grasp her shoulder

Tuesday, June 28, 2011


I watched Shannon’s cherry tree
Swaying softly next to the yellow bananas
Hanging by the window sill

The peanut butter slid down
The back of my throat and
Under my tongue
I was thirsty more than hungry
But I wanted to eat something first
The jar of peanut butter was all
That was ready and

It wasn’t what I wanted
I scooped out another spoonful
And licked it slowly
Go outside and
Join the others weeding
The garden lining the drive


I ride my bicycle so I think that I’m ok
I ride my bicycle to keep police away
I ride my bicycle so I can see
Much better in the dark
I ride my bicycle to take me someplace

If I had somewhere else to go
If I had somewhere else to go
If I had somewhere else to be
Then I wouldn’t be here

I live in a small town
I live all alone
I can keep busy during the day
But sometimes after 10 pm
When it is dark outside
I get a little freaky inside

There is a little bar on the other side
Where all the misfits go
I go there to dance my soul someplace
Somewhere far away

originally written unknown 2003-2004

Monday, June 27, 2011

The Fairy Tale

Max is 6 and wears a toddler shoe
Vowing to be small forever
The mad scientist has a plan
That will work

Eileen’s tears wish her life was
A fairy tale
Life is real
Life is real

What hour does the laughter curdle
And the sarcasm blacken bread

Little ribs
Little ribs
Tickle tickle tickle
A motor boat and
Rubber fish in the tub

Alice the toad
Lives in the tree root
The hummingbird
Does come to eat

Leave us alone
We want to do
What we want to do
We want to play
Now go away

Feelings Faces

Use your faces she instructed
The faces just make me laugh
I really don’t know what they mean
Do you have the answer sheet

They’re on the door
They’re even labeled
It is really so

I scold you
While I’m laughing
Serve grave illness
With a smile

Please don’t dish me
It’s my right to

Wait, something feels wrong
I’ve suppressed a distant rumble
Swallowing the broken bottles
I’ll be swimming at the bottom

Sunday, June 26, 2011


I remember the day I said 
to Shannon
I remember the day we 
Could only count a few
Then we counted many
Then we counted more
Until we couldn't count one
For their blackness
Covered the whole horizon 
Between the meadow and the sky
As we stood on the hill on
Edith Avenue on a warm
Gray orange treed day
I remember how we turned our backs 
to them
I remember the Sarsaparilla and 
Prickly Pear pop we shared
On our way back to the place
We'd been two or three miles ago
The time of day had changed-
We found the sky empty
Quiet and gray 
Lonely before night and winter 
We walked home faster without words
Hands anxiously entwined
I was glad the swirly mass was gone
But today I'm not
-originally written 10-12-1995

Monday, May 16, 2011

Study at the Botanical Gardens

It has been raining for most of this year's spring.  On Sunday I took my daughter and son to the Western Kentucky Botanical Gardens to utilize our new sketch books.  There is an art exhibit in June for a Daylily Festival, so we were out doing some flower research.  It is difficult to do justice for the experience by describing it with words.  It was drizzling on and off, there were bird feeders visited by birds, rocks to climb, a pond, and plenty of blooming flowers to sketch.  I also have to mention we were the only people in the park.  The weather was chilly, but we came prepared with coats and umbrella.  We all went home wet and smiling with a few damp sketches in our bound books.  The pieces to come out from the experience with be a success, if only because of the memory behind them.

Thursday, May 5, 2011

The Accounting Clerk

I keep the books for my clients
Pretending to be an accountant
I chose to do this
I did
Numbers are good

12 crows
3 ships
1 moon
I’ve painted all these things
I did

I had a friend who’s a doctor
Once we were poets
Who keeps track of all the wires
How do they do that
Don’t worry

He said not to wonder
Such things are not for me
Noah and Fargo, smart  kids
On a swing and a moon
I feared

A swing and a moon
My heart in my throat
Just kids in the sand
Arms and legs
I love

The clock is ticking
The mirror holds a reflection
How much life is an illusion
Blood feeds and takes away
I know