Monday, August 20, 2012


A poem for one of the best dogs ever and an important part of my family that we lost a few months ago.


Black as midnight
Brown as caramel
Sweet like it, too

He ran into our lives
out of a leafy bush
at the bottom of the driveway

Humility, playfulness
with a deep bark
he protected our family

Black as midnight
Brown as caramel
Sweet like it, too

Always cheerful to greet
his excitement showed
that you were home

The softest, floppy ears
Full, short legs loved to run
up hills and together

Black as midnight
Brown as caramel
Sweet like it, too

He was a part of us
carrying comfort and peace
We'll always remember

Black as midnight
Brown as caramel
Sweet like it, too

Wednesday, May 9, 2012

As Weightless As Water

As a child I feared its depths
wondering what creature might seep in
through the tiny cracks of filters

And then, with inflatable help,
my daddy taught me to swim
and float on the cooling surface

I learned to live in the bubbles,
surprise splashes and explore corners
where bright pink goggles took me

The unnatural blue felt like freedom
like I was a bouncing astronaut
and the water my untouched moon

And I matured in an over sized rectangle
with every handstand and each dive
I learned to trust weightlessness.

Thursday, March 15, 2012

The Porch View

Craving the trees
and the crest of leaves
and the alarms of birds' songs

Like the bread and butter
I need
to sustain daily life

Is it in a southerner's blood
to feel alive
rocking on an open porch?

Or is it that
when the open air is gone
for a long time
You suffocate without
breathing it in?

Suns set, pines fall,
and the sky is a daily masterpiece
no artist can recreate

And we find these things
set before us
every minute

But smog covers our view
and says "It is like
any other day.
You have more important
things to do."

While the heart,
the artist's soul,
says, "Oh no.
I painted these hues
just for you...
So you would sit
and find nothing
but breathing to do."

Wednesday, January 25, 2012


The monsters in my closet

At eight years old

Surely have followed me

Into my twenties

Bringing with them scarier costumes

And graver consequences

For believing their power

My fears have followed me

But so has my spirit

Thursday, January 5, 2012


Strength should not be measured
by weight or appearance
nor by how much we withstand

Strength is more
knowing full well
what lies ahead
experiencing the disasters
of the world
listening to the words
spoken against you
And standing in the midst
feet planted
into the concrete
raising your gaze
from the ground

To see what is ahead
to see what is good

That takes strength

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Death of Moammar Gadhafi

I was so struck and intrigued by the images I saw of people lining up to see Moammar Gadhafi's body in Libya, so I decided to put myself in the line and try to feel what these people might have been feeling.

Death of Moammar Gadhafi

Standing body to body
in a line of hundreds
maybe thousands
curved and legged like a caterpillar
slowly stepping
one limb at a time
toward a victory, a reward
to prey upon

We are victims and now we victimize him
to take our place
to take our scars
If only we could see his lifeless, bruised body
then we could feel free

In line, we wait anxiously
for death to turn into life

Wednesday, October 5, 2011


Here are two poems about the lovely topic of words. Enjoy!

Words: I love and hate
For they hold power over me
to encourage and to destroy
to bring greatest joy
and to give greatest hate
tugging me onto either podium
happiness or hatred
I have given words this value
by putting them on such a level
that they define and evaluate
too much, of what is my value

Words so many days
are too much
on our tongue, clinging to minds
that won't let them free

Is it just me or
do some words lodge into our being
while others float by
uninvited and unnoticed

Who determines what
we will remember
what stabs our ignorance and
what we say that's never heard

Maybe it's clearer
when we turn off our mouths
and find the words that fell away