Morning Dew

As I sit outside on the porch looking out across the fields. Drinking my tea and sitting in my rocker waiting for the sun to come up. The air smells fresh and clean while it is cool outside caused by the dew on the ground…

#24 The river I called home

on my moon I sit by the river I dip my fingers in the water introduce my ancestors, four times until my grandmothers come upon the edge of my tears the cemetery has been around for 150 years I can’t read on the gravestones buried…

#21 The secret of phobias

they told me to overcome my fear I chose to ask my angst out to dinner doctors offered to cut the nerve I objected to his rationale to triumph my therapist taught me to let it out I decided to let it in fullly penetrate…

#19 We are walking paradox

a specialist of connection but good at self-isolation converted to the concept of community but allergic to relationships she professed her passion to lovers but ran away to a new country I teach seven generation principle but scared of children he fixes every broken things…

Poem 12 – Worker Bee

Stuck, trapped, gasping for breath, Slave to a system waiting for death, Alone in this life everyone’s the same, Wasting the years for someone else’s name. Forty hours a week until you drop dead, Destroys the imaginations inside your head, Born a worker bee forever…

#17

I waited for you in the laundromat to dry clean our trespasses and to iron my soul like a piece of soften wool until it becomes as soothing as a cup of pepper mint tea only the heartbeat of trees understand the rhythm of my…

The Garden Out My Window (prompt 24)

Through the blinds I used to see a tall Norwegian maple with leaves the color of tanned leather bigger than my outspread hand. It had a scar along the trunk, a long vertical burn where lightning struck one afternoon without rain or storm.   We…

#16

Cancer of the mind had murdered him long before he passed away from the physical realm a whole circus used to live inside his belly that his noble soul found it unbearably entertaining unfitting for any hypocritical undertakings but his phallic muscle had been fueled…

Hour Twenty-Four: Traveling outside my window

Travel with me   Through the slits in my blinds My ever-growing evergreen buries the mailbox kisses the windowpane every time the wind blows   To the right of the walk An ancient maple that attacked my roof last spring When it lost one of…

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