Clemency + Dispensation {Poem / Poetry}

Up before the sun (with good intentions) Back to sleep (with no intentions) Rise, shine, quadruped shuffle ground beans and hot water   sleepy-eyed talk of dance, and creativity what it means to be good at something to own what you put into the world without guilt or fear of being singled out   she…

Date Damsel. (Prosery)

January, the transitional girlfriend of the calendar. Not like the other months. Her personality a mix of closing a door and lighting a bonfire; bittersweet memory and new imaginings. You meet her and instantly you’re comfortable–she’s a bit of extended December. She is the palate cleanser, the slate-cleaner she looks the other way and has…

How a Toy Bunny Changed My Outlook.

This passage was read at my wedding.  Yet, it holds only the significance of being part of a tender, beloved children’s story. A story not familiar to me until I needed something warm, intelligent and well-written about real love — because *what in the world did I know about that?!* — at the time, early…

Loose Ends, Tied.

This final week of 2017 I have unplugged from Facebook to the extent that I am, in three day’s time, remarkably happier and more unburdened than I have been in five years.  Maybe more.  The planet continues to have hope and disaster hand-in-hand, but I don’t have to read or know about every single detail…

Give In, Not Give Up.

And they tell me the only thing I can do is pray. It’s so powerful, so mighty, so positive. So why do I feel so powerless, so scrawny, so angry? (This is far from my usual mode of positivity and optimism.) One of you has been betrayed. It is clear from your posts that your…

GhostWalk. (Poem)

​Among the stones today, I realized so much of my life remains virginal.  Pure, unexplored, blank canvas clean opportunities – awaiting my hand, mouth, heart to travel their invitations and enlightenments.  Above the crust. Among the stones, gray soldiers a’row silent senators convened by various ends, bid solemn tiding:  ideas brought here do not flourish;…

Cover Art.

Stillhouse Press selected one of my photographs for the cover of the newest works of Carmen Gillespie.  The Ghosts of Monticello should be available mid-October.  I am thrilled and honored to be part of this book!! http://www.stillhousepress.org/carmen-gillespie/ for your copy. Cover photo:  Dar Dawson #poetry #recitation #slavery #photographersofwordpress #coverart #womenpoets #stillhousepress #bookcover #ghostsofmonticello

Reveal.

Might take a while but I think we all recognize the “good” in “goodbye”.  Maybe not simultaneously or even assign it the same weight or meaning. Weightlessness is fine for wandering or aimlessly bobbing around, here and there.  But there came a desire to be grounded, certain, and that never happened.  It is then we…

14 Dec, 2013. [Journal entry]

From 23F to 30F: freezing rain. Sounds like sandstorm against the window. My daughter watches a new program about a boy with amnesia and no belly button, and I hand-sew the smokestack to a Christmas stocking train. In a month or so, much will change (if I believe the real estate professionals):  we could be…

Instruction Manual. [14 Dec., 2012]

I believe in signs. The kind you ask for when you’re lost. The kind of signs that often appear from praying aloud (or begging), “Could you please send me a sign?” And they do appear – on their own schedule when you least expect to see them. Yesterday, after work, I came home to a…

14 November 2012. (Diary)

14. The age of my only child. Tonight at dinner, at a table adjacent to ours, an upset pre-toddler cried most of the time. Basically, through his family’s dinner and ours. I asked Loinfruit to run to the car for my phone, and while she was away, I got up and went over to the cryer’s…