There is no place like home.
There is no place I call home.
There are places I come from,
there are places I’ve been to,
there are places I’m going.
There is a space I’m using,
a place that’s mine for occupancy,
but is it home?
I no longer belong where I came from,
(I think I never did)
I am not yet where am I going,
and I am only temporarily passing
through the space that I’m using.
There might be a place
that is like home, but how
would I know, if I don’t
have a home to compare it to?

hour 8 poem


we need to follow

the footsteps

already there…

fresh snow this spring we need

to clean from the Apple

tree we need to Watch before we need to go again… We need a New house every season


I lie here, watching seconds slide away,
With pre-dawn colours lighting up the sky,
And wish I could command sleep: “go” or “stay”
And know that it would mock me if I try.
Great roaring yawns rip through me with each breath
Demanding I drop everything and snooze.
As soon as I begin to droop, excess
Of undreamt dreams assault my senses, too!

Perhaps the half would have been wise at first,
I didn’t think that I would have to train!
Kicked off with such an energetic burst,
Then fizzled after midnight, the acclaim
No longer strong enough to dull the thirst
For R.E.M. sleep, or a working brain.

Form: Sonnet.

I started this in hour fifteen, and fell asleep at the computer. Here it is then, the hurdle that felled me. Catching up would be easy enough, but not in line with the rules. One poem an hour… and I slept for two-and-a-half hours straight. I dream pretty vividly, but not in verse. 



Poem 15

Pen to paper

no ink,

no thoughts come.

Where are the words

that come unbidden

as I drift off to sleep

or observe life passing by?

Where are the words

I drown in

as I am overcome

with emotion or love?


Eve Remillard




in solitary confinement, recalling.


to your conscience, peacefully gathered.


your authentic self,realizing.


now in peaceful serenity, stress free living.


Random, #9

As my head aches random things come to mind

I need my glasses

Tea is brewing

I eat my cereal

It is late at night and I am tired

I am home watching my dog

The fan is spinning

So is my head

How to get rid of this pain?

I watch my Dog sleep and I envy him.

Typing these poems that I am behind one

I am drawing a blank.

Drive fast, sleep running

Angry birds sing.

The chocolate cake is done

I am beginning to dream

I am determined to finish

Weight is up, yet I am hungry

Dance, perform

Go to Bed.



Hour 13: We Need

Equal pay for women NOW
and full reproductive rights.

We need a Congress that won’t fight
President Obama about every damn thing.

We need doctors and dentists who can
treat people for what ails them.

Men who are not afraid to cry
and share power.

Kids who have never been hit,
or cursed, or lied to.

We need light in darkness
and a sober use of weapons.


Scrooge has nothing on the toiling ants,

whose tireless pursuits are aimed at

the simple desperate art of surviving,

rather than droves of gold, they march

determinedly up to the jar of honey,

frantic and clawing each to earn their

piece, each tiny pincer set holding aloft

a golden nugget of sweet sugar to their queen.

“A penny saved is a penny earned.”

Poem 18

Old  Habits Die Hard

Good intentions

Each time.

I try,

To break the patterns,

To find a new escape.

A bad day–

Seeking relief.

Replace pain

With a different kind.