This was a poem which presented many choices. Yet, surprising myself, I went a different way than I thought. (One of those out of nowhere experiences.) #11 Legs’s Eleven. for the first time in a decade i am remembering Harry Mulroney nicknamed Legs because his…

cross stitching pictures in a quiet afternoon sun takes time to count right    

Beggars can’t be choosers When they’re manipulative users, So while you’ve still got a choice Don’t use your voice To whine and plead – Don’t beg, Take the lead – Go ahead Make it happen, Do what you need for your own satisfaction, Then bask In…

the Garden in full bloom the tables empty the smell of hot chocolate filling the house with No children from the neighbour s party birthdays turn children into adults now and then

 I need some time some tiiime some tiiimmme (sometime)   She screamed into the night from the corners of her mind softly so softly it hurt hurt her heart hurt her heart deep (no time for sestina) *weep*

Daylight spills over the edges of the mountain. It is morning and I have not slept yet. Seems I should let go, or be dragged. This pen pieces prose, or poems almost by rote. I struggle to determine it’s value or valor. Seems I should…

He left his village for another, there was simply too much blood. It coloured his mornings red, his nights, too, and poisoned all the in-between hours.  He knew that if he lingered he would hear their fists on his door, see their fingers pry open…

HOUR SEVENTEEN POEM # 17 24 HOUR POEM MARATHON ONCE A MAN TWICE A CHILD I learned to walk, Before I could talk. Easy to use fork and spoon, Cow jumped over the moon. Tied my shoes, button my shirt, Played in the sand and…

the road i knew from last spring but did No longer know this summer and which i ignored in the forest with No fairytales but just gossips

Early to bed early to rise makes a regrettable mud in your eyes Empty unwinding finding I’m no good at solitary confinement I don’t like the company