Wednesday, December 13, 2017

Good times, Good times!


Tell me what you want to hear. 
I always answer wrong. 
My responses never please you, 
you react badly, strong. 

The very first time around 
one day, I’ll get it right. 
And then we will see each other 
in quite another light. 

For now I will do my best to 
solve the riddle with pleasure.
Forgive me as I struggle to
respond with my conjecture. 

Tuesday, December 12, 2017

Thank you so much to Editor Johnny Olson and Poetry Editor Michael Clay for publishing "Dreams Last Even in War" in Mad Swirl today.

Featured Poems

Dreams Last Even in War

by  on December 12, 2017 :: 
Among scarlet guns,
held in the unrested clench of fists
of tired troops,
in the long, long battle,
dreams last. 
Among the fogged schizophrenia
of peace wanted
and war necessary,
within all the fighting,
dreams last.
Among the uncharitable cargo
on the backs of soldiers,
even within the tense disembarkation
of olive drab or navy blue
in all their hearts and heads,
dreams last
even unto the insistent numeration
of the final count.

Wednesday, December 6, 2017

Thank yo to Editor Val Michael Tuck for publishing 
this in Tuck Magazine.


Inside this giant, hatred is bred,
Sour breath of hostility spread,
Jealousy propagates ill will,
Malignant evil enough to kill.

Cold scorn begins to germinate,
Advances agendas of hate,
The heart’s master,
Destroys ever faster.

Forced ideologies meant to control,
Freedoms constrained that diminish man’s soul,
At what price will humanity regain,
The right to transcend oppression again?

Thank you to Editor Val Michael Tuck for publishing this today in Tuck Magazine.

The Lioness Indulges Her Sweet Tooth And I Taste Like Victory

The time of the circus is now,
within the precarious surround of the big top,
chaos within these canvas walls blooms,
the lioness has been released and roams free,
she hungers for what will be
a most satisfying meal,
a self proclaimed sin eater, she devours what she procures in her most brutal fashion
when she can catch it.
I live alert among other performers.
I must, for these lambs less able to fend her off,
I long to exorcise her gone for their sake
and for that of my own,
but I’m not the magician,
I am just the two-faced girl and I don’t match her kills.
One face desires to flee to save myself,
one, stay and stand
and I can’t live with myself if I can’t secure their peace,
though I long to exit the pavilion.
I smell the fear laced sweat of those stalked,
and I watch her play with her food before the strike.
I mourn the absence of the ringmaster
who has so deftly wandered off,
what skill it has taken
to hide himself within the hall of mirrors,
he does not heed my calls but only melts away each time,
deeply reflected,
perhaps he is caught here as penance.
I fathom his remissness but do not forgive.
I  wake each morning grasping an admission ticket within my hand,
I long to awaken with an empty palm.
The time of the circus is now,
I stand as sentry along the carousel each day,
as I watch and guard within the fabric of this marquee.

Tuesday, December 5, 2017

Thank you to the Editors at Ramingo's Porch for publishing "Light in the Garden of Love and Justice" and for the interview.
How long have you been writing?
For myself, since childhood.  For the public, I wrote my first poem in January, 2015.

What do you consider to be your greatest accomplishment as a writer?
My work is meant for discussion.  Always.  There are always layers within each piece written using my own, unique voice.

What projects of yours have been recently published?
‘Safe Passage’ in Society of Classical Poets and ‘Thankfulness’ in Treehouse Arts are the most recent.

What are you currently working on and what inspired this work?
‘My Silence Shouts’ was just completed.  It’s a reply to someone who is asking for advice about how to deal with a bad relationship.

Where can we find your work?
My blog is  The book “Big Questions, Little Sleep” is available from in both paperback or Kindle versions.  
I also post links to newly published work on my Facebook page.

How do you react to rejections?
As a Taurus, stubbornness is my middle name.  For every rejection I receive, I send out two more submissions.  I’m aware poetry is subjective.  
I understand this as it is for me also.

How do you react when one of your submissions is accepted for publication?
I immediately write a thank you note to the Editor. For me, to display this kind of gratitude is critical and is part of my emotional makeup.

What is your best piece of advice on how to stay sane as a writer?
Keep track of what you send, where you send it to, and when you sent it.  I have an accordion folder full of papers (one per submission) that I use 
to keep track of what they received from me and the date and the editor’s name.

What is your favorite book?
I have read The Lord of the Rings Trilogy every 3 years since I was 18.  That must be it!

Who is your favorite author?
Stephen King

If you could have dinner with one fictional character, who would it be and why?
Spock from Star Trek.  I’ve always imagined and hoped there would be alien contact on Earth in my lifetime.

What makes you laugh?
My husband, in the best possible way.

What makes you cry?
People showing compassion for others (in the best possible way)

What is your preferred drink while you write?
Water or tea.

What is your favorite food?

Shakespeare or Bukowski?
Shakespeare most days.  But, like everyone else, I have an edge and occasionally C.B. fills the bill.

The next 4 poems were published in October by Editor Veronica Bruce of
The Paragon Journal-Anapest.  Thank you so much, Veronica.  You have a wonderful
journal that I read every day!

My Drawing for "Insensate"


When I am old,
And called across the sea,
And beauty, peace, and ecstasy unfold,
Make no sad laments for me.

A quiet shore awaits,
Those long passed, I’ll meet again,
Within majestic open gate,
The happiest I'll ever be.

I'll walk the pathway,
Abounding sights,
Shoreline blue and silver gray,
Days and nights now finite.

And when you come
And call and look for me
Follow the silence to my sanctum

On the shore along the sea.

Afterthoughts for "Declaration"

My soul can find no staircase to Heaven unless 
it be through Earth's loveliness.

On earth there is no heaven, but there are pieces of it.

If Heaven exists, to know that there's laughter, that would be a great thing.