Finding the words

Finding the words (thank you box of wooden words 🙂)

This cobblestone street
and everything on it
is my delicious empire,
my diabolically calm universe.

This is where life and love
publish their memoirs.
This is where need and want
stifle the obligatory wars
that keep them apart.

Let me surrender to sleep,
where this street becomes
the length of your spine,
where I can choose wine over water

to fuel this fire,
to quench this foolish ache.

Teacher Writer Life

I’m scribbling away on a chapter and all of a sudden this comes out. And it’s only the first week of September 🙂

I want to be on the Emerald Isle, with a Starbucks, a notebook and pens, my camera, and nowhere else to be. ☘️☘️☘️❤️❤️❤️

Lily of the Valley and Bleeding Hearts

You’ve got me like ivy
climbing,
choking the walls
of my common sense
and strangling the fences
surrounding my will.

I’m Lily of the Valley,
the leaves and the bulbs,
and you are the compounds
that make me beautiful enough
to be deadly.

You’re the outstretched vines
of bleeding hearts
that look gentle enough
from a distance,
the watercolor petals hang
like soldiers on monkey bars.

But I am the trellis
that fell in the storm,
and I may not tell you why
I failed to get back up.

Happy National Woman’s Day

Girls are not machines

that you put kindness coins into

And sex falls out” — Sylvia Plath

We’re more like the crane games

on a Jersey Shore boardwalk 

Hands maneuver our hands 

towards visible prizes

and treasures hidden in plastic shells. 

If what we have for grabs is too heavy

the plushness slips through fingers, 

weakened and rigged by the deceit of others. 

Still, these hands keep rolling quarters of promises 

into our waiting gaps, 

the lights and sounds fill the quiet, dark 

corners where we like to hide, waiting to see 

how hard this one and that one will try 

to catch our IPod hearts with irascible playlists – 

to win our unicorns stuffed with everything  

nobody else wants to know.