Beauty resides where one seeks to find
The gentle reminders
Of this everyday life.
Death and life entwined
Yin and yang,
I walk through my forest
In solitude I seek
Answers to questions
That seem as endless
As my changing moods.
Getting older with each day that passes
Some days not recognizing
The girl now replaced
By someone new.
I have found a courage
To speak my words
To not fear the hand
Of retribution,
I need, no, I must do this
Even if it falls on a strangers ear
This changing
This growth.
They say to be a crone is beautiful
And of this I don’t quite know,
But I need to speak to my wood spirits
Because it is there I find
The solace and peace,
To feel the rich earth beneath my feet
To know the whispers of the wind
As they softly speak my name.
I touch the trees, caress the leaves
And sit amongst these living friends
That show no judgement.
Those old wise beings that heal my spirit
And teach me to look up in pride
Of all I am,
All I have become.
To see past the trees to the sky,
The moon and stars.
The lightning bugs dance their magical waltz
Delighting me to have witnessed
This moment,
And I shall grow more.

Embracing this universe
Making it my own.



Roots driving deeper into the darkness of all it knows
How to survive, to sustain itself
The sheets lay tangled amongst the thrashing legs
Caught in a nightmare, sweat on the skin
Chilled in the night air.
She fights the darkness that drives her under
The weeds tangle her and keeps her from surfacing to the light
The water covering her
She dives below
She is lost.
She looks around at her atmosphere
Twinkling lights fill her head
She sees him before her in the distance
And he reaches out to her
Please come to me,
She is unsure
She wants to be free of this moment
She fights the bonds that hold her down
She knows there is a way out
She closes her eyes
And knows there is more.


Manic muse

This cold lonely day
Thinking of the one
So very far away
What to write
How to tell you
In prose
In word
Back and forth my mind
Racing all night
Awake with the thought
A word on the tip of my tongue
Lost in the transition of sleep to
Now where I sit
Wondering if you will see
Or care
Or take the time
To be a part of my inner ramble
The cosmic muse
The stars align
As the red eye plane goes by
At midnight
Marring my train of
What I really wanted to say
Hope this is enough
For you.


Beneath the step

I found you there
Growing quietly
Unannounced to the world
I spy a pretty
All by itself
Yet content.
I don’t know why I stopped
Grabbed the camera to capture
The simplicity of the moment.
I guess out of darkness
Beauty can thrive,
Can grow in fact.
You can’t put down
What must be,
You must allow the time
For blossoming,
To fill the purpose
That was meant
For this flower,
For you,
For me.
I tend to move
Out of darkness into light
Then back again
Always changing
Never the same.
That little flower gone now,
A bed of white snow takes her place.
Having served her purpose
She ended in a vase

fruit loop

One of those days
Tripping over myself
Almost left home
Without the eyeliner on.
For me a tragedy
For when you have one of those days
You need to feel as if you at least
Look ok,
No eyeliner equals
Oh my god, didn’t you sleep last night comments
And oh, poor thing, you should go home, you look Ill.
The sun is out
At least I think it’s the sun,
Seems so long since it’s been here
Almost forgot what it looked like,
Vitamin D deficiency an everyday occurrence
Here in not so sunny Buffalo.
So, eyeliner in place,
Spilt my Cheerios all over the table
Chasing the stupid I do what I want cat off of the counter.
Maybe what I really need is a fruit loop kind of day,
You know the kind,
Happy bright colors,
Little pretty round circles that look much better than
The healthy Cheerios. And the milk, hmmmm look at that nice shade of
Multi colors that leeched out of my food.
Yeah, maybe that’s what I need.
Or better yet,
I go back to sleep and start my day all over again,
But then my eyeliner will smudge on my pillowcases and that wouldn’t be good,
Besides, there’s already dog prints on there, artsy, cute, right?
So, here I sit at work,
Watching the clock go tick tock,
Then another meeting
And later another…..good god, it never ends.
Maybe I’ll sit through it and dream of better days,
Fruit loop kind of days….
But that would be like retirement.
I can still dream, right?

Happy meal

I’d like a toy please
A boys toy
Eighty nine dollar happy meal
Guess it’s super happy.
Heroin within’
What the hell
Guess that’s one way to make
More than the minimum wage
Strung out on those fries
Hey, where’s my cheeseburger.
Keep the apple slices please
Don’t like that Crap that’s good for you.
Good god now I know why
I only watch the weather.
I thought the cops only hung out
Where the donuts live,
Maybe in the drive- thru the dude got
The wrong colorful box of goodness
Scary world we live in…
Pass the onion rings please
And do you all have those minty shamrock shakes yet?
Yeah, the one with the rocks in it.
No, not yet? Never mind,
Just gimme a small coffee,

Spirit dance

The memory of blissful surrender
On a hot and steamy summer day
Walking along the river down in Savannah I held your hand
I remember that day as if it were yesterday.
We drove to the cemetery in search
Of midnight in the garden of good and evil
And it was so quiet but she was gone,
Removed so long ago.
The wind whispers from the distance
I feel at home in these places of loss.
Water and stone and wind.
I was born in the sign of cancer
And I feel my skin rise when I walk
Amongst those I call friends.
I hum to you, lonely stone statues
Can you hear me calling,
Hello again my precious
I have come back to see you.
The earth is packed hard, dried in the summer sun
From the thousands of feet who have
Walked along these paths,
Weaving in and out
Amongst bits and pieces and
Long forgotten names.
I wonder who you were
Sweet child gone too soon,
And who is left to cry for you
To wonder if
This is all there will ever be
When you turn to wind
Who will feel your spirit,
Who will call your name.


Coming up for air
Been way too long since this feeling was here,
Leaving me gasping, straining for that last bit
Of breath
To live and to believe in the good
That life is.
I saw the words that were written
And I flew so high, flittering wings caught by the
Air, the wind, the breeze that took me
Into the sun
Into the warmth of living.
The prism reflected through the fiber
Of color and lightness of being.
Out of the depths of this cocoon and into the sky
She flies away
Leaving nothing behind
Except the imprint of her memory
Surfacing in your mind.
The glimpse that she was here
And now gone.
Bouncing on invisible currents
The wind sweeping her
Into the future
Into tomorrow.


I can listen to the songs
Of our tragic past
Memory after memory
Played on solemn chords
Minor never major
I can relate best this way.
You say you can understand
But the blank look tells me
Words are just words
Not meaning much of
Anything at all,
Because they can’t touch me the way
What you love does,
Just a song after all
A distant memory
Like a silent troll of the trains whistle
Not so far away
Hear the wheels turn
Rusted metal on the track,
Where they go only I wish to know
To follow
To ride
To move, keep moving
Motion lullaby
Rocking, rolling…drifting farther away
Into the night.
I try to tell you
Excitement in my words
But it is only I
Who can see below
The shadows kill what mortals can not see
And I am left once more
Adrift in memories
Crying alone this sadden-laced night
No, you cannot see
What you cannot believe
And I am left swaying
In the magic
Of this solitary life.

the classics (without class) of rock

Born in 67
Mom told me I went to Woodstock
Damn wasn’t that something?
She told me Elvis rocked it there
Then I knew my truth was all lies.
Growing up on classic rock
Aerosmith , cheap trick, Meatloaf,
Ok it wasn’t classic then, but it is now
Oldies station plays shit I grew up on and…..
It makes me feel F^€¥in old.
My iPad just tried to tell me gold instead of old,
Maybe it is trying to tell me something.
But with the hair turning silver
The only thing gold is the grill on football players teeth.
Back when albums went gold they were heroes.
Or like my hair, platinum, not quite hero material, more like a non tye-dye
Because I like it and refuse to put money into chemicals.
what’s an album? my niece asks,
Huh? What? Hasn’t this child been taught anything?
If it isn’t on her iPod playlist that was purchased
In the never ending cloud store of all that is good,
Then she is unaware.
My mom had 8-tracks,
Barry Mannilow and Ferante and Teisher or some old geezer crap like that.
They didn’t like living in the 78 thunderbird backing in the sun.
Nope, 8track and heat don’t mix.
I knew of cassettes.
I could splice a cassette tape back together after the old tape deck ate it,
In the dark, with a flashlight and scotch tape.
Then came the CD’s,
Buy a whole new system to listen to your old favorite classics on
And buy all new CD’s because they were remastered and sounded soooo much better.
And Because the cassettes died an un-natural death in the basement flood.
Now digital everything.
XM radio, once awesome but why pay?
I can get pandora for free, just have to touch her
Every now and then to let her know
That I still care…that I am still there for her.
But here I sit in a dark office
Radio on the dudes desk blaring oldies 104.
I fooled around and fell in love…WTF, no dude, you fooled around and fell
In temporary lust.
what is a crocodile rock? Nasty creature living in a bog waiting like a rock to eat you
And your little dog too? Rambling man! now that makes sense….have known many of those.
I love music but some days this crap they are playing baffles me,
Guess I’ll just put on my iTunes on shuffle and get down some roller coaster of love or
Hang with snoop for a fantastic voyage. Maybe I’ll even tell you the story of how I was born this way! yeah! back at Woodstock on a Navaho blanket in the summer of love
Jamming to Elvis of course.