Giraffe three (TW for racism, homophobia) We are the stuff that dreams are made of. Or, at least that’s what the dead man told us, but it was probably his lover doing the writing anyway, because everyone knows that queer love is a giraffe’s neck…

Our breath flows like a wave- a tsunami in some- who breath just a bit too deeply! Inhaling air through every orifice-even the hair!   I practise breathwork on a rock in Georgian Bay. I breathe in deeply-very deeply! And, I do an extended release-releasing…

I don’t really know who I am. I take writing classes and I seem to fit in. I carry my trauma wherever I go. I am in another relationship, afraid to be alone. We love each other within a few months. I have lost myself,…

I scout around, I scent the air Quite fruitlessly I cast my fly No inspiration anywhere The barren minutes flutter by My thoughts net only empty space Quite fruitlessly I cast my fly My idle pen just spins in place Vague doodles overtake the page…

A crow calls, celebrating the morning. I tap my Merlin app to chronicle the answered greetings of the chestnut-backed Chickadees. Soon others are joining in song: a Stellar’s Jay, a Brown Creeper, now the barn swallows and a red crossbill. These are not my desert…

the wasp in my stomach lost her wings on December 28th in the suburbs of Philadelphia. what was aflutter snapped as the syllables fell out of me and on to the once-white table. yes, it’s true i was never suitably grateful for the taste of…

Hour Three Oh how you mesmerize me those spheres of peridot flecked with black circled by brown. A calm mixed with fierceness, and the need to survive. Such powerful grace. Sleek, muscular, and strong. A tree climber. Prowler, a thief which stole my heart. Fur…

Utopia Underrated presence in the moment Tranquility for the soul Overwhelming, over the top silence in your mind Paused – to reflect on the now Incredibly slow pace of your heart Amazing, peaceful time- dedicated to your body EVERYDAY

Image prompt   Mercury Rising   In that dustbowl summer we learned and relearned again the musculature of dream. Bright horizon, future a golden hum. Heat was a verb we exercised with no caution; hearts heedless to colder climates, shifts in wayward weather. Now a…

20 Little Poetry Projects Prompt (abbreviated)  the spray of ocean bites into my skin, sharp sting  the sky is only blue if that’s what you decide  andre was born in detroit, murdered there too  ocean nestles against my shins like a familiar cat  this is…