Hmmmm when I copy and past it puts some of the lines out of wack! hmmmm well, there are no line breaks just a copy/paste flaw




Beyond angst, the teeter-totter

was enmeshed securely in gravel.
Too light weight to offset the balance,
she sat touching the sky afraid of the height,
afraid to crash down to the ground,
afraid to crawl and slip down the plank.
White knuckles glowed in dusk on iron handle;
dangling legs grew numb from wood pressure.
Others caught up in their own preoccupation
thought she was having fun so no one helped.
No one had seen the boys leave her up there.
Fidgeting, a sitting-need-to go, the gravel finally
released sending her downward to a hard landing.
Ashamed of her obvious accident, she ran home;
Leaving wet footprints and her child dignity behind.




Boxes shift and get lugged from room
to room over and over; stacks of packed
things inundate every room hiding
the newly laid polished bamboo floors.
Have I missed the contents of these boxes?
For the most part, no but there have been
lots of frantic: Where the hell is ________?
OK, the packing was disorganized;
clearing closets, bookshelves, bathroom
vanities, kitchen cabinets, art supplies…
so what do I put back?
Some items linger charged with energy;
my mother’s singer sewing machine –
it’s cabinet drawers have not been touched
since she collapsed from the stroke.
Other odd things take up space too;
sewing patterns, cloth, tools, dishes, photos…
it’s not that I don’t trust memory?
Those in the graves don’t need the items
that I carried in the move across country;
my daughter won’t need them either…
can I purge?



Having sucked down her lunch
as fast as her two Corgis, her stomach
protested the inhalation without chewing.
Sour eruptions demanded a dose of antacid.

At the rate she was consuming the chalky
tablets, she should invest in their stock.
Be a teacher or a nurse. There’s always a demand.
Tanking her dreams, she had obeyed…



How could she not realize?
Cling wrap persona desperate
to connect; a smother avalanche
releasing inappropriate faux pas.
People politely slid away or lied excuses.
Neediness emanated from her core;
she was her own nemesis…



Tide pulled her to and fro…
was she a she anymore?
In spirit form,
was there male or female?
Floating above – floating below –
A few threads tied her to body.
Where was the sanctified light?
Everything she had read said
there would be a tunnel…
head for the light;
darkness prevailed.
Scavengers came and went;
tides changed;
night became day…
a beach comber dialed 911.



Realizing alone was best,
she settled into herself

uplifting spirit with discipline –
meditation, yoga, chi gong.
Healing self-reliance, her surge
control was set for balance;
“no” became her favorite word.




Monkey Mind was helpful.
Never alone because of its
constant ramblings, there was
never a silent internal moment.
Endless fuel supply flowed

without slowing; streams of chatter
spewing infinite questions, songs,
observations, information
from first thought to the last.
Verbiage bacteria multiplying
in an endless invisible space…


Over the Paradigm

You know it’s hard to change the paradigm
when you’re trying to create synergy
to best maximize return on investment.

Her head almost became tangled around
his sentences full of expensive words.
Way more than two cents, she had to give him
credit for complicating everything he said;
he could go on and on spewing smooth dialogue.

To her credit, she knew he was trying to lose people
on purpose with his suave unnecessary vocabulary.
Happy with her choice to ignore his advances,
another sure fire sign of baloney emanating
from his wholesome lips… the word “utilizing”.
Watching him schmooze on the political news:
I was utilizing the synergy of my colleagues.

A dead giveaway so easily picked up with her BS meter;
turning off the TV, she snuggled with her beloved
who might say without unnecessary words…
“I was working with my friends.”

7/23/2012  this one the line spaces are correct


Tide pool reflections
extreme to sublime;
denizens beneath denied.
The surface,
a one way mirror, swirls from dawn to dark.
Clouds obscure;
winds disrupt;

hands capture inhabitants.

Air, a temporary condition…

7/24/2012 hmmmmm more spaces?



Your best story,
an assignment…
where was one?
Vacant imagination,
closing in on midnight.
her shadow;
successful failure,
her guide.
Making struggle
her priority.
The writer’s rule –
who, what, when, where and why;
she needed the how.



Sparkling Globules

Glitter obscured her sight…
bottles had tumbled end over end
showering millions of sharp metal squares.
Going through her mother’s art supplies
stuffed into closets and drawers, she had
activated a flimsy shoe box’s destruction.
So much stuff squirreled away…
the glitter collection was from her childhood.
Once blinking cleared her eyes, she noticed
felt Christmas ornaments around her feet.
Stooping to pick them up, tears dropped onto
multicolored dunes making glitter craters.
Odd how touching some objects propels
one backwards in time; such strong memories

rose from holding faded felt bells, stars,

and gingerbread men crusted with sparkling globules.

7/27/2012 hmmm more weird spaces