I just want to gush for a minute about how happy I am at home. I am so glad I don't have to go to work. Thank God my husband is a good provider, and I can stay in my home where I feel most comfortable and enjoy being. I get to be with my … Continue reading Home Vs Career
Category: poetry
I’m Going to Publish a Book
I have decided to take the plunge and self publish a book of my poetry. I already have a digital chapbook out from an experimental press I love, but I've never published a full length book. I thought about going the traditional publishing route. However, I was reading a post by another writer the other … Continue reading I’m Going to Publish a Book
New Visual/Poetic Project
I am beginning a new project that is part surreal poetry, part visual art. I am using typography as a visual art form. The very shape and color of letters and words on a page can be visual art, irrespective of meaning. I want to create a book of visual and verbal poetry/art. I want … Continue reading New Visual/Poetic Project
Brainstorming, Journals, Ocean
I recently started using a journal with bright, colorful paper to brainstorm poem and chapbook ideas before I begin to write. So far it's going well. I've come up with 8 or 9 ideas. At some point I'll probably explore all of them. Journals make me so happy. This journal has a candy box for … Continue reading Brainstorming, Journals, Ocean
Ode to Joy
Last night, while passing out candy to the roughly 560 kids who came to the door, I began to read a book of poetry by Anne Carson. Suddenly, for the first time in months, poetry came to me! I'm afraid to get my hopes up, but I think poetry is back. I'm so excited! I … Continue reading Ode to Joy
Language Holes
Over the white spaces in my sentences It snows star dust. I lick the frosting off the spoon in the kitchen. My language has well designed holes, As though my words were lace. Try as we might, We all carry Monday morning inside us. What I’d like to do is take my needle That my … Continue reading Language Holes
Ever Closer to the Secret
In a hall of mirrors I do not reflect. Radar cannot smell me Though I move ever closer to the secret. My face is tempered glass And my feet are temperamental. What does the red bird, Beak open with no song, Signify? Climb among my immortal diamonds And find out.
What Comes Next…
White catastrophe of spilled milk. I let the lizards have the garden. Some frightening ambrosia will be drunk by two people too mummified in receipts to be in love. What comes next but neckties and nectarines? I cry awhile and the spider tells me my face is much cleaner.
A Poem in Progress
As you can see from the title of this site, I'm a writer. Usually I write poetry, but I sometimes dabble in non fiction or science fiction or a little bit of speculative fiction. Here is a poem I have been working on. Thunder is hard To sleep on as I drift in the breeze. … Continue reading A Poem in Progress
Cherished Rainbow 