Indie Author

Finding & Creating Beauty in Unlikely Places

Month: August 2016

Poem of the Week: Ode to Happy


a teal Brew Thru Crew

tee you’ve had since
you’ve known me


unlike your love

you survived more
humiliation than I was
worth you made us work

swath of hair the color of
jade sea fallen over eyes
that’ve seen too much
it was that wave I loved
after the violet of winter
taken on hues of blue
the girl I never had the
courage to be and
proudly envy
with breath beats like
lion’s teeth you pour
out raised fist honesty
in overflowing anthems
of unabashed joy you
give hugs like its
the first time you’ve
seen me in years it’s
the best feeling ever
that color etched
into the sunshine folds
of a faded blanked
I remember your
gangly legs and the way
you forced your too long
limbs to contort in my lap
saying “cradle me”
we read The Wizard
of Oz when you were
eight years old and
I said what the hell am
I reading you laughing
as hard as twss jokes
drove you into mock
fits of horror we’ll
always have if the
Sabbath’s a-rockin
don’t come a
shapeshifts into
those moss-webbed
woods where trees
are the hue of childhood
peace like everything is
just okay or the emerald
piercing I waited eighteen
years to get I chose you
to represent belated beauty
envy is it too late to join
the senior girls at the
study hall table my 7th
grade self still asks and
join the sisterhood of
begrunged hippies I in
my yard sale flannel and
un-ripped jeans wanted so
badly for you to see my
kinship colors behind frizzy
curls and pastel imitations
of normal got lost in black
but we found green in those
back roads we drove for hours
radio so loud the wind
covered its ears and it was
beyond dearest treasure
to have those summer hours
with you
I am now grown in
my spirit’s skin and happiness
is in the details I couldn’t feel
their joy fully
while I was living them.

Poem of the Week: Harbinger

For J.D., S.S., & H.K.
I follow the needlepoint
from your wrist to the
embroidery of
a memory quilt meant to
tell the stories you need
me or someone to trace
the lines of
this patchwork
too primal for words
sewn crooked that hurt when
they play in the red room of
you hear the
reel wind up but can’t look
screens on every side
like there never was anywhere
to hide
hostage cries that
paralyze sleep
and tear your heart satin
tatters ragged as if this
moment was as actual
as the first time his hands
on your body made it factual
that unwanted education of what
torn seams seems like each
thrust a ramming rod stuffed
your tenderness farther out of
child eyes sunken in salt
sea beyond recovery they are
treasure jars in the backyard of
your young self buried for safe-
and your aged fractured hands
cant’ remember where to find her.
So you send search parties
re-tracing steps through pried-
loose flesh
it’s a labor of love
to find what was erased like
when the sutures in
unwind the missteps
that brought you here
maybe when Novocain nerves
don’t need open wounds to
breathe easy
maybe once these highways
stop stretching towards sunsets
like a second death
you won’t need to
forge these rapids of blood
to silence the needle
of broken records.

Poem of the Week: Idol Worship

Tell me that you

will always love me

as fiercely

as you do today

as you did when you

penned that verse I pour

over like prophecy

drink in like prayer

Come on

let me have the lie

from your mouth

so I can remember the

way you voice gravel-

whispered the way

your skin smelled

when I think back

to this moment

when it was true.

After you’ve forgotten

what it felt like to need

to be saved

recall through opaque

haze heart dementia

vague when you still

wanted my wings

to be your home

before the feathers

fell out each celestial

scar a proof to prove

to myself that once I

was heaven incarnate

to you I plucked them

out to cover your tears

in swan kisses

neverminding the blood

it took or the inner peace

I pried loose when I welcomed

that sting willingly for you

those interstellar sacrifices

sufficient in the moment but

dissolute as fallen snow or

an overplayed piano you will

recall the notes but cease to

feel its tune in your bones

When I have given all

and you have taken most

when I am just the crescent-
shaped scars of a needle

you plunged to feel the fix
of a high you said could
only be my
hearth’s fire
I fear I’ve loved you blind
and while you worship
at the temple of other
goddesses my altar will
gather dust the incense
no longer burning sweet
not forgotten
worse than forgotten
when I am become the one
that made you see the sun
but covet the moon could not
give you her midnight caress
or Venus’ unbuttoned dress
when I find myself tracing
feather paths back dead ends
presence of an empty sanctuary
listening to the echo of faraway
songs penned to other goddesses
I’ll remember
that you told me
you’d always love me
as fiercely as you do today
I’ll think back to this moment
when it was true.

Poem of the Week: When Relationships Suck Because You Can’t Own Another Person’s Pain

I am a weather vane


Moving with your wind

In storms I am merely

The evidence of ur ever-

Changing black skies you

Reign heavy on my tin skin

Your anguish I cannot

Soak in I am dependent

On your light for the calm

When I can just be

just Still love

Until the moon pulls you

The pollution corrodes


And I

Spin again.

My breath hurts

Every inhale an anticipation

Of the direction your

Current will force me

Today I ache for you to see

How exhausting this Dance

in your raindrops Is

where I am merely a

Fixed spot hovering

between Ground and you

No rest and


Hovering above

your Warmth just out of reach

Those clouds that neither you

Nor I control


And I long to be

Desert again

An impartial catalyst

Of your heat

Where the sage brush burns

And the water runs off.

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