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

Friday, March 27, 2015

Keep Moving

Credit: slhy | Shutterstock.com
The air is petrichor and pine
mixed with the spiciness of new mulch
Birds skitter across leaf litter
looking for seeds
The dogs and I
out for a walk,
basking in first warmth
I want to pluck this moment out of time 
keep it in my pocket
but the dogs pull on their leash,
a gentle reminder to
Keep moving.

submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, An Old Man's Fancy

Tuesday, March 24, 2015

Echo House

Welcome to Echo House
The walls are voices
Screams of injustice
Cries of despair
Lost souls comprise
the halls
Come in
Have a bowl of empty
We choke on it every day
We have so much nothing
we are drowning in it
There is always room for more
Stay a while
Bring your shame
your disappointment
your hopelessness
We will nurture them
Leave your dignity
at the door
Should you keep it with you
be warned
The cat will hunt it down
and play with it like a mouse
until she grows bored
and kills it.

submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Tuesday Platform

Monday, March 23, 2015


I tried to get you off my mind
You came to me in dreams instead
Awakened with you in my head

Convinced that I was not that kind
I told myself that I'd forget
Despite the years, I haven't yet

Afraid of feelings I might find
Avoided what I knew I knew
As I grew older, they grew too

Too far along to push rewind
A silly crush that wouldn't last
was relegated to the past

I wonder what I left behind
The passion I could never show
The part of me I'll never know.

submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Play It Again Toads #5, Kerry's Sunday Form Challenge, Constanza

Sunday, March 22, 2015

Tired of Your Old Personality?

Hey, guys
Are you ready to
increase the size of your
Update and remodel!
Time is running out!
Pick any identity--
Quirky, classic
French flair
Discover your inner Republican!
Annoy sexy girls!
Remove any unwanted shame and self-loathing!
Reclaim vanities and accents!
Your luck has changed-
Don't ignore this!
Enough online ukelele lessons--
Eat life
Find your concealed genius!
New season, new look!
Order now!
Free returns.

submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Bits of Inspriation- Spoems in which we are asked to compose a poem from the subject lines from spam

Saturday, March 7, 2015

Wanna Play?

Toril "Wanna Play"
You beckon
I come
Yes, I know better
and still, I come
You are a thief
a deceiver
You will always hurt me
and still, I come
When you look at me
with those pleading eyes
and that beguiling smile
I can't resist
Time and time again
I come
Trusting your words
more than my own knowledge
Such foolishness!
Still, I come
By the time I see
the glint in your eyes
it is too late
Your alabaster teeth flash and
encircle my neck
like a string of pearls.

submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Artistic Interpretations with Margaret, Art With Toril

Friday, March 6, 2015

You Are Stronger Than You Know

Toril & Tully Collaboration "Beety Babies" 24 x 36
You are stronger than you know
The rain may drench you to the core,
the winter wind may whisper
that you are not worthy,
the snow and ice may envelope your heart
You are stronger than you know
Beneath your battered form,
your roots grow deep
Reaching for nourishment,
Sustaining you in the drought,
Anchoring you in the flood
so that when the sun shines
you may lean into it and grow
You are stronger than you know.

submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Artistic Interpretations With Margaret, Art With Toril

Tuesday, March 3, 2015

Fleeting and Precious

Time stops
for a moment, frozen
The bay
hides her secrets under
a cold, varnished lid
Branches of tall oaks
sheathed in shimmer
Pine needles
ensconced in ice
Winter's toothpicks
dripping diamonds
Ephemeral jewels
fleeting and

Note: I was inspired by the caption to a FB post from Dusty and Vicki Rhoades which read, "Dogwood dripping diamonds"

Monday, March 2, 2015


I am a kite
My bones are weightless
I wear my flesh
like stretched silk
No blood runs
through my veins
Just insert a string
in the empty circle 
of my navel
I will fly
like a ghost
And you, fearless one,
will hear
the howl of the March wind
as it names my pain.

submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Flash 55 Plus and
The Sunday Whirl, Wordle 201