I smile in the wee hours of each day In my self, I speak to the Holy Spirit who makes I listen I meditate And take a deep breath to the music that defines my journey. A whole journey of bees and honey and bile…

photosalmost realnot quiteshameless plasticshonest wordsnot quiteelectricityalmost mindnot quite deathalmost certainnot quitelifealmost thrivingnot quitetruthalmost fictionquite

I fold the bed sheets, thrice. Lining them against the front of the bed, i look at the corners of the bedspread. I tuck them neatly in. I need three more hours to dust every nook and corner and plunge the dirt out Of the…

“I stopped thinking about extreme grief as the sole vehicle for great art when the grief started to take people with it.” – Hanif Abdurraqib This week an artist, and last week a principal, brought to my attention startling statistics concerning the suicide rates in…

Just be still; listen silence a warm companion intimate in quiet Do not stir; listen in solitude, reflection echoing nothing Just be still; listen just listen; learn from yourself within, do without – Mark L. Lucker © 2021 http://lrd.to/sxh9jntSbd

The talking Drum Again   The talking drum again It’s still beckoning to me As it speaks in tongues, Tongues of the drum Known only to the initiated   Well, I think it’s talking to me But then, the drummer only Has the last say…

The homeless camp along Kahului Beach Road in the few yards between concrete road barriers and waterline lies contested of course by the county fathers as a public health menace their go-to ejection card since the hippie days these folks don’t camp they inhabit gutted…

It is possible to be beleaguered by ribbons Always seeing them as serpents Waiting to spring out with thirsty fangs Lace-lined pink torture devices with long and rusty nails stuck through them Ready to sink into unwilling Chubby flesh too frozen the run

Jabbering and yammering, Talking into tomorrow, What’s a clock? I don’t know her! Laughter echoing, Through screens and minds alike, Holding hands up to our ears, Trying to cut off the piercing noise. These the only times of silence, Between hours of conversations, Talking over…

“Books were safer than people, anyway.” ~Neil Gaiman   (especially the ones I write for my Self which So Many people do Not understand is the Key to Knowing ME)