Tag Archives: writing

Age

Suddenly I just discovered, these are my hands and they have always been. Torn cuticles, ridges. They were mine as I  wasn’t chosen to cheer, was chosen to debate and now as I hold a friend, a child, a husband and type another endless endless complaint or behave a bit of ether.   These are my legs, surprisingly. I thought… (more…)

“Two dangers constantly threaten the world: order and disorder.” Paul Valery

  Everything in its Place I want a clean and orderly place to sit and think, or make a thing. I want an unstained and fur free couch to watch The Doctor or turn a page. I want an unmuddled and chaos free desk to sit and write  or play at being a movie maestro. I want a sterile and… (more…)

Grown don’t mean nothing to a mother. ~Toni Morrison

Grown don’t mean nothing to a mother. A child is a child. They get bigger, older, but grown? What’s that suppose to mean? In my heart it don’t mean a thing. -Toni Morrison, Beloved Emily’s Valkyrie Hey my girl, My moppet, my colt, my brilliant amazing daughter I need you to know from your toes that recall the third place… (more…)

It was a dark and stormy nightmare ~ Neil Gaiman

Teeth I have to wake up My own voice is talking to the me in the mirror WAKE UP, as I stare at bloody teeth, falling away streaming barely held screams from a rotting mouth. This isn’t real but I feel hands on my face Turn and feel something holding me to the ground. I try to speak and find… (more…)

Think where man’s glory most begins and ends, and say my glory was I had such friends. William Butler Yeats

What I Always Mean to Say Your way of catching light ending the day or dew on yellow petals takes my breath away. Your steady hand with bees, incomprehensible alien creatures nurtured into sharing their sweetness is astonishing. Your fierce motherhood is both the far away whistle and the train making a way through their lives. Your friendship is a… (more…)

When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight. ~Kahlil Gibran

Of course I don’t Of course I don’t wonder what she would have been like now just entering kindergarten. Blonde hair or darker? Tall or would she have been a little short lady. Of course I don’t consider if he would have been bookish like we are or muddy and laughing. Cars to play with or legos. No no, I… (more…)

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  • You are the Music While the Music Lasts