that's mrs. mediocrity to you

with the posture of a perfect impostor
the kind that can look you in the eye and make you see
blue
when it has already been established
that green is the color
of tomorrow

and

i want to kiss your neck
nuzzle in a little
settle down

get to know what makes you

tick

tock

and which words are your favorite

but of course
we both know
you have already
erased them

covered them over
with hatch marks and
strips of black
marker

no looking back
no turning the page
no deciphering
because

everything you say
is code for someone
who isn’t
gone
yet

.

.

.

.

Linking up today with the fabulous dVerse poets for Open Link Night, join us!

.

i hear her whispers in the dark
as i lie staring at the moon
hanging in the center of my window
telling me stories i wish
i had no need to know

the apples she offers
are not spiked with poison
only withered dreams
and the juice of death
running down
through bony fingers

.

i catch all the drips
as they fall from her wrist
with a tongue
i know cannot save me

yet there is no fear
in this bracelet of decency
no menace in her offer
to share

she comes as hollowed out friend
in a cloak i choose
to wear
but makes no move
to hang it
on the shudder of my shoulders

.

she is

happy to wait

the empty space
of ticking seconds

barren and fruitful

the silence of scream
to the motherless child

she is

answer and question
one
in the lace
of each veiled eye

.

.

.

.

.

Fifty days from now, I turn fifty.
And while I thought I would be dreading this birthday,
I find myself looking forward to it.
On that day, November 27th, I want to host a
“celebrate life” blog-link party here. More details to follow,
but I would love to have you join me!

Linking up today with the fabulous dVerse poets for Open Link Night, join us!

you never know
where life will take you

we like to think we know
or at the very least

can guess

but

we are born
with all the knowledge
we need and
spend the rest
of our lives

forgetting

each step brings us
a tiny bit closer
to understanding
that in the end
we know

nothing

because even in
the worst of years

the driest hottest
drought of summer

can bring forth
the perfect blush

of one september
rose

.

.

.

Linking up with the fabulous dVerse poets for Unexpected Poetics, join us!

equality is not the same as experience

and it makes me wonder if
all the first times
have to add up
to the same number
as the last times

and who made that rule
and why do i have
to follow it

it’s all in the numbers
it can all be calculated with
equations and dollar signs

first
smile step kiss

last
kiss laugh breath

not exactly the same
not exact at all

because no one has the right answers
and no one gets to see
the cheat sheet

or all the lines, verbs, nouns and
adjectives that wriggled their way
in between

and the teacher is sitting in the corner
wearing her carefully decorated dunce cap
trying to figure out how to make
her last first time
add up

to all the time
that came before it

and she has all these numbers
crisscrossed on the palm of her hand

but she can’t find one zero anywhere

.

.

.

Linking up with the fabulous dVerse poets for Poetics, join us!

dawn rips the blindfold from my eyes
forcing me to watch another day

unravel

time slipping through stone and finger
with the same giggle of impermanence

whispers

to a heart that takes no prisoners
and a mind that gives everything

away

a broken belt lies on the floor
tanned flesh and silver buckle

remembering

smaller nights and sunshine’s warmth
and all of those tomorrows gathering

promise

and potential in dust-filled corners
stacked with empty broken boxes

waiting

.

.

.

Linking up with the fabulous dVerse poets for Open Link Night, join us!

half ghost, half zephyr

alight with silence

no compass necessary

carry me home

everywhere i go i see angry people
lips pursed and stiff with indignation
faces red and closed and pontificating

their way towards purple

and some days it makes me laugh and
other days it makes me frightened so
i stay holed-up in my hermit house

digging in a few feet deeper

watching butterflies and dragons
slay petunias and wayward periwinkle and
cedar waxwings choosing only the ripest

berries from a tangled mass of elders

as i pretend not to notice for fear
of scaring them off with a ruby-lipped
smile and a heart burst open

seeds of joy spilling out

floating

away

like tufts of dandelion

and no one questions if it’s fair or just
or whether the gypsy moth has more right
to be alive than the hard-scabbed ugly

beetle

.

.

.

Linking up with the fabulous dVerse poets for Open Link Night, join us!

i found her in a box at
the back of a cupboard
all dust-covered and
crinkled with age

at twenty three
already thinking
life was so dim
and so perilous

so blank and filled
with dark possibility
cynical and funny
and cosmically correct

i want to hug her

pat her on the back
and say, there, there
i want to fill her

pages with platitudes
and posture and
cross out words
like bleak and barren

make notes in red
down the sides of
yellowed paper saying
ha! and really?

but instead i hold her
carefully to protect
her vulnerability and
the more i read

the more i smile
because in truth
i find myself
beginning

to fall in
love with her
a little

she gets me

.

.

.

Linking up with the fabulous dVerse poets for Open Link Night, join us!

i wrap a blanket
’round my shoulders
and step outside
to search for meteors

blinking blank sky
tinged pink by cityscape
and two low clouds
hung just off center

the southern cross
points slightly southwest
and i face north to seek
that one true star

feeling grounded
and whole and tiny
beneath her ever
standing compass

all i need
to find my way
to all the home
that matters

on the periphery
the pleiades dance
because they know
no one can see

.

.

.

Linking up with the fabulous dVerse poets for Poetics (A beautiful sadness), join us!

when what i want
is the chaos of doubt

and you

you hide behind
that smokescreen
of birdsong
and pretty sky

where blue
is the color
of everything

but purple

is my favorite

and

three
small planes
crisscross clouds
like geese heading
to triumvirate ponds

while two
grasshoppers vie
for one green leaf

and black eyed susans
force canned laughter
onto the stage

but

the catbird

its very name
an oxymoron

perches high

and watches
a storm roll in

grey squared
in one blind

eye