The Troubles   She was proudly Irish But never spoke of the strife at home known as The Troubles   Julianne married Tim, many years her senior, and sailed away from Cobh Harbor. 1922.   Sailed away from village life, work in her father’s pub,…

One hundred years ago My great-grandmother was born The world had no idea what it was in for She had three children, five grandsons, and fourteen great grandkids A legacy that continues to this day You never know what a person will be when they’re…

‘Subjugation of your body and soul, Welcomed with gracious heart, at the hands of my carnal desire, Your will dully accepted in delight, With gratitude’s regard, and absence of mind, New limbs I shall impart, via force of nature, and calculated dementia, You shall be…

A decaying piano left in the desert Gathering playa and dust You take a seat and start to play   The hammer strikes the chalky strings The air fills with hazy clouds, muffled notes A familiar and haunting tune   And though the sounds are…

My piano is an old Wurlitzer my grandfather won in a poker game and nearly sent my grandmother over the edge when he brought it home at 3am. It sits in my living room getting even older.   The keys are losing their action and…

1922 (Poetry Marathon 2022 Hour 4) The war to end all wars Had ended The Spanish Flu epidemic Was over The era of Electricity and automobiles and airplanes and radio Was now Human potential was exponential The stock market reflected the confidence That things will…

A hundred years from now she will ask How did we get here, where are we from And you will tell the stories, of the land from which we come It used to be the land of the brave and of the free, Except that it…

Alone on the Side of the Pond At high noon and alone I am still in my case. Looking through the eggshell reflecting my own face. One that is quite foreign, but much like all the rest. Never did I question, Is living just a…

piano notes like falling leaves dark green trees and shrubbery snaps of branch, then silence aren’t you playing for me? drawing me near? luring me through thorn and mourning you said to meet you when the music stops. but here i am alone

    There Used to Be   There used to be a woods so high and thick that where I sit was high in a tree. The water and islands I see would be hidden by the Douglas Fir next to me.   Squirrels scurried…