Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash. Leonard Cohen

Saturday, September 27, 2014

For Allison In Portland

The misty morning rain and dove grey sky
Reminds me how the wet days make you smile
I swear I hear your laughter and I sigh
Imagining a bridge across the miles.

We'd put our boots on and go take a walk
We'd splash in all the puddles on our way
We'd joke and tease or maybe we'd just talk
A day I spend with you is the best day.

And even though I miss you constantly
I daydream in your room to feel you near
I know that Portland's where you need to be
So I would never try to keep you here.

So when you feel the rainy morning mist
Know that I am sending you a kiss.

submitted for Magpie Tales, Mag 238

Sunday, September 21, 2014

There Is No Art To War

artwork by blue clementine art
There is no art to war
Art creates;
war destroys
Art understands;
war attacks
Art is honesty;
war is treachery
Art is tender;
war, indifferent

War is tactics
Strategy, scheming,
cold, efficient planning
Art is ardor
Energy, fire,
hot, chaotic humanity

There is no art to war
Allying the two
is a disgrace, a blasphemy
Art would sooner die
than be captured 
in service of war

It often does.

submitted (late) for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Get Listed (September)

Sunday, September 14, 2014

Persephone's Invitation

Garnet by Dragon Of Lust on Deviant Art
When you are ready for me,
wear garnet
is not enough

Rubies are cloying,
cherry Koolaid red,
jellybean red
That kind of red
is for the timid

Call me with garnets,
with blood,
deep, warm things
not so sweet

Drape a string of seeds
around your neck
I will take you to dark places
where the moon fears to shine
I will bring you September;
you will wear its leaves upon your fingers

When you want me,
cloak yourself in autumn's satin
Whisper my name to the reddened, black sky
You will taste wine upon the breeze, and
Your heart will glow like a gemstone.

submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Artistic Interpretations With Margaret, Mineral Rainbow 
and Sunday Challenge, September Skies

Thursday, September 11, 2014

Put On Those Rose Colored Glasses


Hey, baby, don't be like that
When I told you there was no one else,
I wasn't really lying
You see,
I meant that there was no one else
worth mentioning,
No one else
worth getting you all upset about
And it's over anyway, so
let's just forget all about it, ok?
Aw, honey
don't be like that
You know you're my girl
and "I gotta work late"
sounds so much prettier than
"I'd rather pull out all my teeth with your tweezers
than watch "Dancing With the Stars" again!"
I mean, do you really want me to say,
"I'd rather be shot through the face with bullets than have you kiss me"? or
"Your meandering hands feel like spiders crawling all over my skin"?
Yeah, I say, "Plant one here, baby!" and I smile
even though it hurts
C'mon, sweetie
don't go changing the locks again
I bought you some roses 
Naw, I didn't buy her any
She doesn't even like roses, 
and yours cost me way more!
Let's just go to bed, huh?
I'll pretend your dismal thrusting gets me off
just like I always do
I'm done with her
It's all about you now, baby
Wild horses couldn't drag me away, just like the song
I love you, baby
You believe me, right?

Monday, September 8, 2014

Another Icarus

He always knew that he would die this way
From the moment he first felt the fire,
the warmth spreading over his body
that made all the pain go away,
he knew that he would never stop

He wasn't afraid of being burned
He flew higher
and higher
He wanted the sun for himself
if only once

And when he gave that final push,
he almost made it
But in the end
his wings turned to ash,
his body to dust
And the flame still burned.

submitted for Magpie Tales, Mag236 and
Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Open Link Monday

Monday, September 1, 2014

Warrior Princess

image source
  She births stars from her fingertips
Dances with fire
Wraps herself in comet tails
Spinning the flames
As graceful and dangerous
as a tigress
Wild as summer jasmine
She dances with fire
to moonlit music.
image source

Note: This poem was inspired by watching a performance of Weapons of Mass Distraction, the fire spinning group (all students!) at Reed College in Portland, OR where my daughter is now a freshman. After one of the women's performances, a woman sitting next to me shouted, "Look at that, you bimbo cheerleaders! These women are WARRIOR PRINCESSES!"

submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Open Link Monday