A poetic journey through my mind

Archive for October, 2013


in my two shaking hands lie the remnants of words,
lies given sweetly, with promise of love,
they flutter and flap, as broken things do,
and beat a sad rhythm, like the heart of a dove.

torn and forlorn, through my fingers they slip,
and fall to the floor with a silky-slick sound,
a wound bright and scarlet, yet soft to the touch,
to lie still and silent on the unbroken ground.

kneeling, I move to gather them back,
perhaps with care they will someday regrow,
only to watch them fade in midair,
the answer, it seems, an unchanging “no”.

Silent, I kneel, as the floor shakes and bleeds,
staring at hands becoming less real,
no wind shakes my hair, nor block change my pose,
the pain of a fading heart all that I feel.

Dearing, my Dearing

(This was written for a lady I met who had the unfortunate luck of being named Dearing.  While I love the name, this poem almost immediately sprung into my creatively sick mind, and I hope you like it.  Half Poe and half Edward Gorey…enjoy!)

Oh Dearling, my Dearling, let’s run away,
Sampling the ephemeral bright Springtime day
Drinking Spring wine,
“Forever!” we’ll say.
Oh Dearling, my Dearling, let’s run away.

Dearing, my darling, let’s run away,
You with your bright skin,
Me with my grey,
And sample the goodness of each summers day,
Oh, Dearing, my darling, let’s run away.

Oh, my darling Dearing, let’s run away,
Through the bright crispness of each Autumn day,
Smell of campfire,
And pumpkin decay,
Oh, my darling Dearing, let’s run away.

Oh, Darling, my Darling, I’ll lock you away,
Deep in the ice, and with carved letters, say…
This is my Dearing,
She once ran away.
Oh, Darling, my Darling, forever you’ll stay,
Deep in the ice of a cold Winters day.



This is something I wrote in the middle of the night, feeling the thoughts and worries of my new roommate.  I can’t show it to her, it will only hurt her…but I hope it gives someone else a picture, and maybe a little more compassion for the frightened and confused.  🙂   



Scared and shaking, frightened and confused,
sleepless and questioning, feeling accused,
where am I, what am I, why do I hurt?
where are my pants, where is my shirt?
where are my people, my family, my friends,
why does this nightmare never seem to end?
they tell me to sleep, take my pills and behave,
they tell me to wait, to be strong, to be brave.
but I’m lonely, and hurting, and pain-filled and lost,
and worried about things like pain, and like cost.
so how do I rest, in the hours so deep,
alone with my thoughts and promises to keep.
from my family, get better, come home well,
from my doctor, to follow his laws, and to tell.
I hold onto my promises, and remember the faces,
and remember that this is just one of the places,
I’m just here to get well, cared for and loved,
and no one will hurt me, and no one will shove,
and nothing they do is to hurt me or scare,
and now I can sleep without worry or care.


Fiction Relay #46 By Me!

And here it is again, the wonderful web of words, woven by writers who…nah, never mind.  ;p  It’s Fiction Relay time!  Time once again for me to take up the spindle and weave us a tale, hopefully one that will inspire more and more to come!  In case you haven’t read the previous weavings (all 46 of them, wow!) then you should follow this link to find links to all…or this one, to read the summary so far. I’m betting that you’ll like it, that you’ll have a good time, and hopefully come back for more!

They had taken 5 steps into the room, long enough for Ephraims pronouncement…when suddenly they found themselves in the hall again. An eerie green glow, the exact strength of Jose’s fizzled out light stick, barely illuminated the room. Any attempt to enter the room resulted in the same response, and finally they stopped trying, “milling around in the hallway like a pack of puppies” was the image that came to Jose.

Jose could feel his “part” in the legends approaching, and clutched his medicine pouch even tighter. Thanks to the stories he’d fed on all his life, and his simple knowledge as a mechanic, he knew that things were about to get -very- bad.
“Just give me a second here, guys…I wanna try something.”

As Jose moved further into the room, Sam could “feel” the resistance, almost a heat, that surrounded him. He pushed on, muttering something under his breath, something less like speech, more like…a chant? Whatever it was, it was working, as Jose -slowly- pushed his way into the room. Sams hand reached for Meaghans, for comfort…and then, because he could, here…he put the arm around her slim shoulders and pulled her to him.

Smiling in the dark, Meaghan curled against Sam, feeling the comfort of his large frame, and smelling/feeling that special scent that always meant “Sam”. “Missed you…love you…” Her murmured words were meant to comfort, but also to distract. His thought were too much on the room, on Ephraims “sight”, and honestly…it got in her way.
As she tucked Sam…and love…and Sammy…and love…away again in one tiny corner of her mind, the power surged forward again, as if she’d released some holding tank, and now it was free. She’d begun feeling it a while back, but kept quiet as it slowly worked its way into her brain. After all, that was what it wanted…and she wanted to give it what it wanted.

Ephraim shuddered, as Jose pushed his way into the room. Jose’s muttered words might as well have been english, for he understood every one. Watching Jose move into the room, he listened, closely, to the chant.
“Anansi! Come, bringer-of-tales, speaker to gods, come! I bring a story, untold! I, your birthed child, come bearing gifts! Gifts that will let you put down he who walks not in beauty, he who claims what is not his, or ever will be! I do not beg, but ask, as is my right as your birthed child…come, Anansi, come!
And with the last word, something seemed to flare around Jose…Ephraim saw, and Sam Saw, and Meaghan…or the power within…saw, and screamed! Screamed not in fear, but in challenge, her form seeming to swell for that moment, going from woman…to Woman…then back to Meaghan. The scream startled them enough to almost forget the form of the great huge Spider that had encircled Jose…and whose brightly glowing web he stood within…inside the room.
“It’s safe now…you can come in. The Widow holds us in her arms.” As they began to file cautiously inside, Sam still holding the now stiff with anger Meaghan in his arm, they could feel the web stretch, then part to let them in. As Meaghan approached, Jose bowed deeply to her, head to the floor at her feet. “Mother-of-us-all, be welcome here, here in Your space, here in Your body, and forgive us our small intrusion? We enter only to remove that One who wishes to control even You, in his impudence…”
Meaghan could feel the power within…relax, and seem to…forgive. She shrugged one shoulder, and chuckled. When the Voice came from her throat, they all started, except Jose, still on the floor. It seemed to fill the room…no, it was the room…no, it was the Mountain, speaking to them.
“Come, Anansi, come, little spider…you are not welcome here, but as you enter on a mission I greatly wish culminated…”
Suddenly, the Voice broke off, as she turned toward the front of the cave. “They come! The witches come! In their hundreds they come! My Children will stop them, for a while…but you must hurry, little spider. Whatever your plan is, whatever Trickery you have planned…you must hurry!”

Blue stared into the things eyes for a moment, too shocked to think…then her new-found power seemed to take over, for just a moment…and she ported, finding herself next to her beloved Bike, staring at the four Walls who stared into the distance, their eyes glowing the exact same red as the Not-Spence.
As she backed slowly toward the bike, one groping hand touched its saddle…and she gasped, as instead of the normal worn leather, its color matching her turquoise riding leathers…she held, instead, a huge lump of turquoise stone, its presence feeling comforting in her hand. A feeling, a prescence, came over her…so strong and somehow…familiar, that her normal cynicism was over-ridden, and she relaxed into it.
“My Daughter…you must come home. The witches come, in their hundreds, and you must Fight. Your Brother will come soon…he was delayed upon his way…but he will come, and in that moment, you will join together in Beauty, and defeat the witches. So it is said, so it is done.”
Blue “felt” her power come over her, her aspect pour through her veins, the turquoise chill within her. Inside, somewhere, a tiny Blue curled up within a turquoise room, a smile on her face as she waited for her Brother, her Love, her other half, to join her.

Well, there it is for now…now it’s up to Dawn, writer of Mouse-tails and Fiction Relays of the finest kind…let’s see what we get!


For Baby Pinkie

This is a cute little thing I whipped up for one of the nurses here at the hospital.  She’s having a baby in less than a month and still stays sweet and bubbly, so I named her “pinkie-pie” like the “My Little Pony” character.  😉


Little one, so sweet and rare,
born into such loving care,
you will grow so fine and fair,
with such a caring heart.

Playing, laughing, every day,
happy and loving in every way,
and in that love you’ll always stay,
and never be apart.

The Beginning

I need a favor…this is the beginning of a wip…not sure whether it‘s big enough to build a whole book on, may be just a short…but most importantly, what do you think?  Is it worth continuing with?  Please comment with any opinions, positive or negative…please try to make any critism constructive, if possible.  

Thanks in advance,



“Stumbling down the icy cold streets, she paused for a panting breath, one trembling hand in its filthy fingerless gloves leaning on the equally filthy wall of the alley, the other holding her slightly extended stomach, protectively. Whispering sound emerged from her, head down. From someone less desperate and half-frozen, they would have been words. “its gonna be ok, love. i promise. just a little more…”
Hot tears threatened to freeze on her cheeks until she shook them off, impatiently. With one last deep breath that ended in a coughing fit, she pushed off the wall and continued her stumbling run. Her eyes darted from side to side, looking desperately for some sign of civilization, someplace to hide, but just as in the past 48 hours, the city stood empty and echoing, a giant rat maze with her as the cheese.

Thought Waves

tossed by the stormy waves, contradictory,
lost in the depths of the ocean of history,
frosted by years and the cold sea of tears,
loaded with layers of pain, and of mystery.

hot with the fires of remembered rejection,
fraught with deep holes of vanished perfection,
searching the waves to find only graves,
naught but the cold winds of inner reflection.

escape comes, with joy, and a turn of the key,
landscapes of future lives rise from the sea,
shining and light to brighten the night,
capes of forgiveness and cliffs of the free!