Change Virginia Carraway Stark Do you feel How everything happens Now and then Without Knowing Change just comes Creeping in Pouncing On heavy feet Who knows what is Coming next Never knowing Always growing Hoping That what comes next Is better than the last

We sensed the voice of reaction but we were still too busy to tell. It was born from unconscious inaction, and there was no warning bell as it planned it’s sickly hell. But before we noticed it had begun the flag of Fascism blocked our sun.   We watched as voices spitting bile…

Hitting double digits on the poem count, the spoonfuls of coffee are getting bigger & I’ve had to do something I was hoping to avoid — making a kind of list poem using occurrences of things twenty — but I can’t get bogged down here… still…

No, no, not the children, who’ve long been found, nursed and fed, clothed and bundled off to the treadmill. No, not them.  It’s the mothers who are missing.   They’re wandering somewhere out there, thinking they’ve found a new life, not at all like the…

Where ever you are. You are always in my heart. In the warm gentle breeze ,I  know your love. Is always around me know matter how many years. Our love is lost there is always a love that will never. Be lost. Because you will…

Autobiography of a face Is the Prompt for hour ten But is the face not An autobiography of the Prompt? Time and transition, the ancient Janus The personification of duality through rhyme: From the line dividing now from then Came the greatest pursuit undertaken by…

Its cool when the breeze flows it becomes quiet when the night starts..   Moon shines with glory emerging in thoughts we are left at peace to make one with ourselves..   Promises are made interactions are done plan is to chase all those dreams…..

The cold water washed over my aching, sweating body. It was July in Sacramento California, unforgiving heat. The clock proudly read 7pm, the heat was starting to give Beads of sweat started to form on my forehead, I shut my eyes, and let my head…

my face is a map of triumph, tears, sorrow and pain; the lines, the path of my life; a road winding, turning, twisting and taking me back home again; my eyes filled with images of a life well lived welcome to the autobiography of my…

Autobiography of a Face How long I have been a window to this world, So many years have passed by. Yet thinking of other faces I’ve known, I tell the body to push on with a sigh.