Chores and kids seems to go together; Do the dishes, Stop doodling silly wishes, Get the fishes, Clean the peaches, You’re not allowed alone on beaches; Responsibly learn what life teaches. But should chores and teens sing the same chorus? Go do the laundry, Hands…

Not down and not out Mingus bass thumping heartbeat Never underdog   Liberation soup Spicy sax and a fight on Your hands Mingus style   Tried to keep you poor I’ll be a Haitian with you Your fight is my fight   Bum bump a…

I still have the first letter I wrote to my Oregon grandparents: I want to see you. The leaves are falling. My grandmother, Dana, noted on my letter the date it was received: Oct. 13, 1971. And the she replied on a card postmarked the…

Two years without a drink … a legal drink. Two years of ear-to-the-ground scrounging for satisfaction. Two years of watching criminals make a killing. Financial killing. Bloody killing. Two years since the government passed judgment on me, branded me immoral, removed my choice. Oh, Lord,…

magpies outsmart the scientists — their mates remove those pesky radio transmitters electric lights turn on and off as Siri responds to an African gray parrot — what makes us human the cockatoo raises his sulfur crest while harassing an unflappable kookaburra until he finally…

I want to dance to this song with the one who wooed my heart who knows, perhaps, but my mind was blinded in its folly reason not fully understanding illusion it could be dilution of the senses decision of one’s worth my worth a battle…

Dear Anwar, a letter in prose to you I do compose. By chance I stumbled across on Amazon, an anthology of a Poetry Marathon. In amazement,  I did discover , a poem, by yourself in between such cover. I am pleased to see that you…

I miss you…      I know… Why did you leave so early?      I didn’t. I left right      when I was intended to. I still needed you. Still need you.      I am not far.      I will not ever be far. Deep down I know that.      Good it’s…

​ Pinky Promises Well, hey there, Stefanie! I know we’ve been out of touch for a while now, but I occasionally see your face pop up when you’ve been tagged by some of our mutual acquaintances. When it does, my heart bleeds. I’m going to…

She doesn’t get a birthday party. No one’s sure of the year, much less the day. What she gets are regular meals, treats, heart worm meds, belly rubs, and an occasional bath. A year and a half in, she’s still nervous at dinner time, sits…