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when I looked back
I saw her 



... except her eyes --

I kinda liked her ...

 I realized then

... I kinda liked her

-- except her eyes ...



I saw her
when I looked back


Ordering In

stupid fortune reads
"never eat the yellow snow;
uncooked prawn okay"


Melancholic Relief

I've been toying with a phrase for the past couple weeks. Something of a "melancholic relief" has settled on me. I've been really struggling with several major pieces of who I am since the year began. Several things in my life have changed and several more are yet to change.

I've come to some important conclusions in the past couple weeks. These decisions are pulling me into a place of sadness for the loss of what was, but also a peace because decisions that haven't been easy are finally being made in a way that I know is best for me and my family.

Change is good, right? Everyone says that, but when the change requires a complete rearrangement of priorities and even things you have believed your whole life... well, it just makes the change all the more difficult to deal with - even when you know it's a necessary step in the journey to become who you are supposed to be.

So, it's melancholy. I look at what I'm losing, knowing I may never have it again - at least not in the same way. But it's relief. It's best for me and my immediate family. It's necessary. It's part of who I am inside and who I need to become. And as sad and scary as it is, I know it's right.


Shapes Like Stars

Across the universe... this galaxy...
...these little pieces burn

shooting light
that blinds the road

and takes away our view

...if we could only see
this thing we are

and chart this course

we'd plot our path... guide us home...
...avoiding edges
cutting paths

in sharply twisted turns


Flash Fiction Friday: "A Whole Life in One Day"

They barely knew each other, even after watching each other from afar for years.

And now, he studied her. Up close. Personal. From only inches away. One day, by chance, had brought them here.

His eyes detailed the memory he'd replay later - and for years to come. Her cheeks, flushed from the chill of the air and something else - something infinitely more permanent. Her hair, softly silhouetted in the glow of the streetlight behind her. Her lashes brightly glistening in errant flakes of snow.

"When I look at you, I see forever."

He watched his whispered words wrap around her, his warm breath causing a shivered smile to tease her face and his heart, embracing them both in eternity.

He pulled her close and touched his lips to hers. In one second, he knew his life was held inside this day.



The drops shatter silence,
     and maybe even glass,
     pounding against the pane.
As she walks,
     unhurried as it falls,
     in puddle-soaked glistening soles.
Rivulets shiver
     and trickle away
     from the patterns relieved by her heels.
And somewhere amidst
     the myriad drops,
     one solitary tear gains weight.

On My Terms

I took
the longest
most difficult
most painful
way to get

You better believe
I'll fight
for the right
to stay.


In Spite

Dear Expectations,

You totally suck at this love stuff. You're always getting in the way, and you always ruin stuff that's beautiful. You have no respect for spontaneity or romance, forcing all these obligations on me. I'm just tired of trying to keep up with you, and I think it's just time to be... me.

I have chosen to love in spite of you.



Ice Cream and Power of Attorney

Today I realized I'm "old." Now I realize that probably half my readership is older than I am, so don't freak out on me. Just go with it.

When I was my son's age, I was in awe of the fact that my parents were older than 30. I couldn't imagine ever being that old. They were so big and they knew so much. They never had any problems. They didn't have to ask permission to go anywhere or do anything they wanted to. They could eat ice cream whenever they wanted - even after I went to bed. Yes, I did sneak downstairs once in a while and catch you, Mom and Dad.

I could go into how I've grown up, had my own kids, and have gained perspective on and respect for my parents in ways I never could have as a child. And yes, I confess, I too eat ice cream after my kids go to bed... and yes, it is so that I don't have to share it with them - mom's prerogative. But, that's not the point of this post.

Point is, I've watched my father take care of his mother for the past several years. He sat through various doctor visits with her: paying attention, asking questions, taking notes, and communicating how Gramma was doing to all of the rest of us. He was the oldest child and power of attorney, and had the distinct "privilege" to watch his mother's health decline right in front of him.

So this morning, my mom asked me to take her to the eye doctor. Now, it had nothing to do with me being POA and everything to do with the fact that she wasn't able to drive home because they had to dilate her eyes. It was an odd feeling though. I sat and listened to the doctor explaining what was going on with her, and I was reminded of the fact that I have all that to look forward to: the symptoms, the meds, the tests, etc.

And it better be years (and hopefully a couple decades) before I have to serve as Power of Attorney for either of my parents. They're not "that old." But they took care of me, and someday I'll take care of them (as I was reminded by my parents last night when we had dinner for Dad's birthday).

But, time marches on. And sometimes it just hits me. Nothing ever stays the same... except for the ice cream.


And Sometimes It Works...

Every once in a while I hit a block. Something where I need to write. I feel the burn of something deep inside, begging for the light of the computer screen. And sometimes I don't know where to start. 

So there's a game I created (or stole from somewhere ~ I truly couldn't tell you which), where I gather random words and phrases from people all over Twitter and Facebook and put them into some crazy semblance of a poem. Sometimes, it's utterly ridiculous. And sometimes it actually comes out with something remotely... semi-profound? You can decide which and tell me in the comments, if you wanna. 

I have linked the random words or phrases I've gathered to their originators, just for the sake of your curiosity and my faulty memory when I come back to this later and read it. Thanks to all who participated. It's fun and helps get the creativity flowing again.


as he stepped through 
the hole in the air 
he was Death

watching my dreams 
replay against a pitch 
black sky
of psychobabble

and begin to stare him down

pondering the enchantment
of a not-so-sexy fart
of course,
by this morning's breakfast:

one free-range egg,
rye toast
and bacon ~

my perception altered
on the splendiferous altar
of scrumschulescent ennui

he shakes his head,
knowing he's beaten by
the nonchalance 
I wield

it covers me,
begins to satisfy
as I wake again
to fight 
another day



she reconnects
as she's done before
possibly millions of times

each time pieces fit again
exactly the way
they always have

it's her world now
where she stands alone
redundantly seeking a match

I sit and watch
this profound simplicity
the certainty in the same

then a sudden remembrance
of the one left behind
a flick of a hand over shoulder

not even stopping
or turning around
a simple and quiet, "Hi, Mom."


Caught in the Middle

here i stay
behind and before
awakening your soul for this crime
of what they call intuitive passions
in anger, pain, desires, intrigue
as we learn to see loves through

together two make one
lovers now from friends

don’t know why, or even how
you ever won this right
to entwine your soul in mine


Fourteen Ten Ten

deathly acts result in life
blossoming in uncertain promises

to touch the sheers
   to fraying threads
      comes dread

of what brings forgetting
      of all you are
  and hatred fills the heart

resignation pales the flow
   as darkness drips like tears
      to drown in kindness
 merciful silence
    a new beginning's end

but again it begins
  this cycle we know
      where life results in death


Smile After Play

Apparently, my love of words is contagious and I tend to call out the inner poets in others. As a passionate writer, poet, and editor (and former writing teacher), my friends occasionally find themselves caught up in the poetic frenzy in which I live and feel the need to try it out for themselves. When this happens, and the words spill onto the page (or computer screen), I encourage and share as I'm given freedom to do so. Please make comments and share the love for our fellow guest poets!

Today's guest poet is Sara Eiser. I met Sara through Twitter, and we have become good friends. She considers herself to be a non-fiction writer, but has recently been flirting with fiction and playing with poetry. Her passion for writing normally lies in the areas of social justice and equality. Her blog, The Covered Wagon, talks about her experiences being Jewish in a largely Christian area and her journey into becoming a doula, midwife, and "lactivist" out of her passion for women's health and her own pregnancy/birth experiences.

(Untitled 1)

they smile after playing
take what they need
want less
have coffee
and grow from the past
is it not why we love?

(Untitled 2)

I am not surrendering to my brain
I have nothing to give
when I can only see blackness
my head full of horrible focus

today let me fail you
let my fire get cold as death
inhale the ocean
suffocate on the future
and vanish


I'm more than happy to share beauty and passion with the world. If you are interested in sharing poetry or short fiction here, please comment below. (All comments are monitored before posting, so your request will be privately emailed to me.)



walls ...
the color of tears
melt slowly to nothing
like ice
cream drips
on a hot summer day

from one touch of the tongue
to that sweet burning gaze
these walls
dissolved into tears

making me savor
frozen need
you create
sparkling in eyes
that behind these walls
… wait



She knew their secrets
could name each one
as they laughed
and made their "jokes"
not once realizing
that truth would astound
and the things they held close
and hid under the skin
weren't fiction
or so far away


Where the Road Leads

I'm on a journey and I can't see the end. I mean, I don't even know where I'm going, to be honest. But it's a bit like a road trip: I've piled into the car with no real defined destination, as little stuff possible, and some amazing friends, knowing there will be stops along the way. There will be bumps in the road, detours to be made, and even random break downs. We'll take unexpected hikes with a gas can because we were too busy enjoying each others' company to pay attention to the gauge.

But we'll also see things we wouldn't have if we'd stayed at home in our comfort zones, instead of taking the risk and seeking this adventure of life together. We'll learn more about one another than we need to know and see each other at our worst. There's no need for make-up, fancy clothes, or any sort of facade on a road trip. There will be days we don't know when we'll shower next, what we'll find for our next meal, or where we'll sleep that night.

But it's good. It's growth. It's learning about ourselves and trusting one another to help us survive this trip even if we don't know where we're headed. We can get out the maps and guidebooks or consult the GPS to find out where others have been before us. We can learn from their experiences and enjoy their pictures and stories, but their journey is not ours. We have to find our own way. And we have to do it ourselves, learning with our companions along the way, finding treasures that are distinctly ours to discover.

I love this road trip, even if I don't know where it ends. It's fun and it's exciting. To those of you who've hopped in the car with me and have decided to ride off into the unknown, thank you. This is an adventure that will change us. And I'm happy knowing I'll never be the same and my life has been worth living, because of my journey with you.


What you see
is the intricate
the thousands of details
the tiny stones within
you engage in the trivia
of type, origin and history
cut, color, and value
and the reason that all of it matters

What we see
is abstract
and what brings it together
the beauty this picture creates
through interplay of parts
and of pieces entwined
into one unified whole

but without each other
your view would be pointless
rendering single stones meaningless
and ours left incomplete
with holes in the whole
of the unfinished art
that we see

so understanding
and the allowance of us
draw essentials together
to help us become
perfect balance of
yin and yang


Spare Change

like pennies in a jar
I cherish you in my life

for when you go
this still belongs
something you gave
something that's mine

to those outside us
seen as little more
than copper in the street
underfoot unnoticed
ignored in change

but this is mine
these golden sparks
seen and chosen
consciously held
collected and kept

and if you leave
you still add to me
increasing the worth
my life collects
as I lose only
an equal part to you
something so small to me
yet worth millions to you