I Wonder Where?   I wonder where it is I can go to see the people I hear wailing? Being of different cultures veils them from me like a wall.   They may think I don’t care for them at all. But the hearts…

“ … later she sat there in her slip / drinking Old Grandad / and she said / what’s a guy like you doing / living in a dump like this?” by Charles Bukowski   After you wrote on a slip of paper, we took…

Funny how life can send you soaring or spinning in the blink of an eye Things happen beyond our control no matter how hard we try Deadlines anniversaries and birthdays all seem to come on go Don’t procrastinate or hesitate.         For…

“Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal has ever dared to dream before” (credit goes to Edgar Allan Poe and his poem The Raven) No longer certain if my thoughts are burden to significant doubting But they flourish at night when I just might question if I…

Storm Inside Outside the sun shone bright much so With blinding gossamers threads sensing much; The brewing storm inside, depends For the future to chance upon. (Inspired from “The Red Wheelbarrow” by William Carlos Williams)   Hour 8 @varenyas

She collected people like others collected shells or sea glass. Finding them, often washed up, in places where others didn’t even see them. Like hunters of agates, she’d reach into a grouping and snatch those she found beautiful or interesting, ignoring others nearby. Her  hair…

inspired by “Three” by Anne Carson It is something we never mentioned before. But it is as if it grew on our skin since we were born. Is, as you asked repeatedly, everything okay? It’s not as if no one would ever know what happened….

Soft, whimsical breeze on my face Do not leave the time is not nigh Feeling refreshed enjoying your comfort Contemplating how peaceful it is So free you are, roaming to and fro Oh to be one with the vast sky I could just get lost…

So, play the water of the tranquil moon ~ Pablo Neruda (#8 the golden shovel) I wasn’t sure what I had done so trying to be more supportive, I attended your play How I debated before taking action. The hardest part of the Exercise was…

A Golden Shovel poem, inspired by: “As is a landscape to a blind man’s eyes” -William Wordsworth The eyes and their fickle functions taunt my mind as they pretend to reveal mysteries to those whose focus is sharp and dedicated, but their true aims seem…