Saturday, July 20, 2019




Witch dolls by Karen Baker

A quadrille for dVerse –the word tonight is sun. a quadrille is a poem of 44 words

Tuesday, July 2, 2019

Human life cycle

into this world we come alone
screaming wretched cold
traveling into the great unknown
stumbling towards the end again.

screaming wretched cold
winding thru the labyrinths
stumbling towards the end again
learning as we go along

winding thru the labyrinths
steering ships north towards home
stumbling towards the end again
into this world we come alone.

Thursday, June 6, 2019

Disturbed "The Sound Of Silence" 03/28/16

This cover song done by David Draimen of the metal band Disturbed is very moving to me. It was originally done by Simon and Garfunkel in the 70's and it is as vital now as it was then, and It can mean many things to many people. But the blending of the words with his special baritone is stunning. He was trained as a young man as a cantor for his Synagogue but decided he wanted to be a singer in a metal band. His barely controlled growls and half scream just makes this more vivid to me. I chose the performance on Conan to show the whole band performance and his efforts to sing it perfectly. I hope ya'll enjoy it.

 Below is my little contribution, a reply, if you will.

Mother Darkness hovers near
listening for your words to hear
about the vision within your head
prophets wrote it down with dread
where you wandered alone
wet echoes, footsteps on stones
in half light shadows shone.
Hiveminds joined as one
with all eyes downcast upon
faces bottom lit from down below
receiving data, news, info
no voices-only words
no neon light, not tonight.
And the madness howled its rage
but no sound was ever made
afterflash of distant light
took away the monstrous sight
lost connections with the hive
the Wifi queen no longer is alive.

over at we are writing about songs that have brought us to tears. This is my offering. 

Tuesday, June 4, 2019

Mother Darkness hovers near
listening for your words to hear
about the vision within your head
prophets wrote it down with dread
where you wandered alone
wet echoes, footsteps on stones
in half light shadows shone.
Hiveminds joined as one
with all eyes downcast upon
faces bottom lit from down below
receiving data, news, info
no voices-only words
no neon light, not tonight.
And the madness howled its rage
but no sound was ever made
afterflash of distant light
took away the monstrous sight
lost connections with the hive
the Wifi queen no longer is alive.

Saturday, May 25, 2019


Humankind is out of time, on the brink of self inflicted hate. Kindness is love.
The ages old conflict of God and Oil both born in the middle east. Kindness is free.

The information age talks too fast and liars run the show; who knows what's true? Not me. Not you.
What's the use of having all of the money if you don't really need it? Kindness costs nothing. 

We see the darkness coming, like Langoliers, eating away the fabric of being human,
Human beings were conceived in goodness and light; now we fall to the darkness. Kindness is light.

Guided by compassion inspired by love, humans can give until there is no more to give 
If fueled by greed and envy, humans will take until there is no more to take. Kindness is generous. 

The fleeting sight of light, and love is under the feet of greed and hate, too late to turn it back.
The only answers lie in each of us, in what the heart says is true. Kindness is truth.

Over at dversepoets we are writing the ancient form of the Ghazal. It is a very specific type of poetic form with its refrains and couplets with internal rhythms. I tried my hand at it but I believe it is lacking in some of the rules.

Thursday, April 25, 2019

This poem I stumbled upon tonight at It is written by Ansel Elkins and it impacted me like a meteorite. I couldn't let it disappear into the depths of the internet, I had to find somewhere to put it.
So Im putting it here. But I didn't write it. I wish I had.

Autobiography of Eve

Wearing nothing but snakeskin
boots, I blazed a footpath, the first
radical road out of that old kingdom
toward a new unknown.
When I came to those great flaming gates
of burning gold,
I stood alone in terror at the threshold
between Paradise and Earth.
There I heard a mysterious echo:
my own voice
singing to me from across the forbidden
side. I shook awake—
at once alive in a blaze of green fire.
Let it be known: I did not fall from grace.
I leapt
to freedom.

Tuesday, March 19, 2019


The pantoum is a poetic form derived from the pantun, a Malay verse form: specifically from the pantun berkait, a series of interwoven quatrains and rhyming couplets.
At D'  Gina has us playing with the Pantoum, a very interesting form. I have been absent from writing for several weeks but glad to come back to this form. Weather in the south is very dramatic in the spring and it can get pretty scary. So here is my meager offering.

Respect the polygon I heard him say.
another long and sleepless night
the air outside looks greenish gray
in the rapidly declining light.

Another long and sleepless night
with the state of the atmosphere
in the rapidly declining light
you gather your family near.

With the state of the atmosphere
the droning sirens stir the fear
you gather your family near
listening for the all clear.

The droning sirens stir the fear
the air outside looks greenish gray
listening for the all clear
Respect the polygon I hear him say.

Thursday, January 24, 2019


Small eyes peer out from under thick glass
head thrown back and guffaws amass;
that infectious laugh bubbles up like champagne
his hands help tell his tale
as if he has practiced again and again

Always with a good story- a teller of tales;
Peppered with humor, after some ales.
Entertaining to put it mildly after a scotch neat or three
"Mom, he lives in a shed!" he said- describing a child
that visited him one day at his efficiency.

That sent him into a new spasm of mirth
is that funny? I wondered, for what it is worth
He often found humor in the strangest places.
 I know he liked to talk a lot
And watch everyone else's faces.

Monday, January 7, 2019

January Halibun

The sun has gone into hiding and sends the wind to blow the leaves off the trees. The people and animals are drowsy and the light fades too soon. There are those of us who suffer from seasonal affect disorder, the ones who love the sun and day light hours and during these dark months, require artificial sunlight and lemon spray to get through their days. Personally, I prefer the dark and cool of night as I don't enjoy the burning rays of old sol. Another year is on the horizon and I have to wonder, as I always do, is this my last one? My last Christmas? my last whatever? I think I have bought my last washer and dryer, and my last sofa. Morbid thoughts but its worth a ponder as my health has not been the best this past year. I admit before I would laugh it off, but not this year.

time keeps moving on
waiting for no one at all
this may be my last...

Here is another Halibun, but this time it is more in line with the theme of January. I somehow missed that before.
come join us at d'verse poets and see what the hubbub is all about.

Float fishing in Mountain View.

     As we ascended the winding road up and up, I could feel the anxiety fall off of my body shedding like a second skin. The air here was  thin and clean was easy to breathe, as we passed deep mountain hollers and steep peaks along the path to our destination. I found it easy to laugh and shake off the preceding months and days like it was all just a bad dream without end.
      And the next day, gliding downriver with the current and watching the lines bob,  waiting for that tug on the pole that meant a fish or a log or maybe even a rock. The gentle slosh on the side of the john boat synchronized with the motion was hypnotic, the sun on my face warm.
      Descending now back to the land of the living dead and dread creeps up from my belly and settles in my chest. I watch the river go about it's business and watch as reality speeds towards us in a collision course.

weekend getaway
never enough time for fun
we'll be home too soon

Today is Halibun Monday at  www.D'verse poetry bar. I am a sometimes poster there but there are many every day posters that are wonderful poets. I am trying to do better with da rules. Here is my attempt at linking.
come over and check it out.....


Thursday, January 3, 2019

To Know

Beyond the flat plains
of linear time-
where old seems new
and tick-tocks count
destiny's slow approach.
Stars hurtle through space
reeling by,
but hours are only milestones
marching by in single file
in earth time.
The spirit in the sky reaches
for the tesseract,
for a wrinkle in time-
and she steps upon
ground not lately trodden.
Shining stars surge and shift
and she slowly walks along
the surface of time.

over at we it is open link Thursday, where you can share any old thing so I decided to back up to Merril's suggestion of Time back from Jan 1. 

Monday, December 3, 2018

Visceral Discomfort

Those hot low notes flowed
from your soul
into the bass sax
and you swaying,
liquid brown eyes
fixed on me.
Fingers reaching
for keys,
eyes still fixed on me.
And I- was waiting for
the encore.

Wednesday, October 31, 2018

once upon an

Once upon Nanopu ecno 
Gravity there is so low
My body feels very light
And my skin no longer feels too tight. 

In contrast-Earth’s gravity 
Always has its way with me
And if you can excuse my mouth 
My tits and ass are heading south.

Over at 

Lillian is in charge and she wants us to use The Stock phrase “Once upon a .....”
(But not “time”.) 
So i decided to reverse it and make it a planet where I was light as a feather. Nanopu Ecno


Wednesday, October 24, 2018

The dream

 Face of moon is oh, so clear
the 3/4 profile, the knowing sneer.
Looking down on earth with pity,
contemptuous and somewhat gritty. 

Whilst gazing upon that pale white face
 it is knocked down from outer space
by an unknown force, sent slamming
into the earth -ruined and flaming. 
Death to earth by her own moon
but dinosaurs will be back soon.
Dinosaurs will be back soon. 

Interstate 40 and 240 Memphis, Tn.

a slash of highway
east to west
from coast to coast 
from stem to stern
the artery 
of industry
like the flow of blood 
  like the fatal swerve 
 in the wet deep curve.

merge onto the city loop
pedal to the metal
road rage and crack
 drive like a maniac
like a bat out of hell
take a sudden veer 
and you are  here.

Its Poetics Tuesday at with the concept of travel, so I settled on our local traffic nightmare. 

Balancing the forces of light and dark


Hiveminds sense

The fall
Darker earlier
Later longer
Late later
Lighter earlier
And in spring
Lighter longer
And darker later
Later longer.
Illumination with light
Embrace the darkness
 Time is man made
as space is a theory
 hivemind only knows light and night.. 

It was Quadrille Monday at dVerse and the word du jour is "early"

Monday, May 7, 2018

grandchildrens visit

Tribe of wild children
burst in with kisses and hugs
midgets with shrill cries
three small tornados
leaving muddle and chaos
in their wake
with ruddy faces pouty lips
and tears that sting
old crusty heart of grandmother
who scolds their father for parenting.

Friday, May 4, 2018

Isol 8

Isol 8
you wander alone
beneath the gorgeous sky
streaks of jet stream
and travelers above
they never see you.

But I see you.
I know your mind
isolators hive mind,
but only you
can hear your heart beat.

Wednesday, March 21, 2018


The valets of spring
darting among the beauty of earth
drinking nectar to nourish
gathering golden dust upon
their dainty feet and knees.

Thursday, February 22, 2018

Haiku number two

If time is fluid
And if space is a vacuum
God has spilled his drink.