Category: Poetry
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Fingers Moving, Fingers Typing
Fingers need to move nervous energy prompts them to keep busy Just as my thoughts my mind will not be silent My fingers will not be still so I play Solitaire or now type I imagine myself crocheting as I did long ago as a young girl Used to crochet needlepoint embroider and sew Used…
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Hot Flashes
Hot flashes Warm flashes Tears held inside Emotions fragile Menopause is a bitch But this bitch can handle it
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Folie à Deux
I Am My Mother Caveat: Please understand that delusional thought processes are SYMPTOMS of mental illness. I feel compassion, even as I feel pain and anger as someone negatively affected by parental delusional thoughts. I, too, have experienced delusional thoughts and bizarre impulses. I’m heir to familial mental illness. I get it. With great trepidation…
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Poetry Reading in Long Beach
Sunday I drove up to Long Beach for the On The Edge poetry reading of Ra Avis, Bill Friday & Matthew Blashill. I was nervous about going to a poetry reading, as I haven’t attended artsy hip anything in decades. As I drove through downtown Long Beach, I felt very suburban middle-aged. Once there, though, I was…
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Writing on a Plane
Travel Journal from Las Vegas to Portland On my way, our way, to Oregon to visit family. Tonight driving out to the coast to stay at the Adobe. Tomorrow Jennifer is visiting from Australia. BBQ at in-laws to celebrate and to meet her new boyfriend. Will then have to stay in Newport at the Shilo…
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Thoughts Intrude
Originally posted May 3, 2015. Now a year older. Not hypomanic or irritable. Just exhausted, for good reason (too much responsibility on my shoulders weighing me down). Did a good bit of free-writing at OC Writers write-in yesterday. Plan to salvage some of it, to edit and post here, to edit and submit elsewhere. Primary…
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A Litany of Slightest Madness
Source: A Litany of Slightest Madness, by Beleaguered Servant I have no idea what I just wrote… I’ve always seen what isn’t there, And so, I’m under doctor’s care; For through my window eyes I see Far, far beyond reality I see the workings of your heart, How love leaks out in midnight drips; And how…
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Sandstorm
in PoetryShe was a young girl Living in a company compound The only barrier between her And the vast Arabian desert A chain link fence One day after school A haboob, a desert sandstorm Swept in through that flimsy fence Thousands of needles Drove into the thin skin Of her face, arms and legs She was…
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I Don’t Want to Write About #Suicide
I don’t want to write about suicide I don’t want the image of her Clinging onto a chain link fence Chef’s knife in hand Chef’s knife inside of her Looking through the chain link At kids playing in the park She mourned the loss of her son She could not contain her grief She could…