This little poem of mine

I'm gonna let it shine

I usually save these audio notes for paid subscribers but this week I wanted these little poems to reach all of you.

This is a few thoughts on my first time writing poetry, what poetry means to me and why I'm choosing it as my “life path” as well as some audio of me reading three very different poems. I would love to hear what these pieces spark for you, what they mean to you, what they make you think of!

I also want to remind you that my paid subscription price raises to $10.00/month in September(existing subscribers, your monthly payment WILL NOT CHANGE). If you'd like to listen to more spoken word and deep(ish) thoughts you can become a paid subscriber right now for the monthly cost of an overpriced but delicious latte ($7.00/month).

Thank you for being here, thank you for reading and listening to my work and for spending your precious time exploring my creative work.

Simply honored to be writing for you all.

Here is the text for each poem in the audio:

To Do List

To do; recall lost days
(the faded memories of
hazy summer sundays)
pay last months rent
return Janie's books
donation to goodwill
(the things you know you
never use, but can't ignore)
sew Rose a blue blanket,
or maybe green
call the invisible local
(to see if he's coming home
sober)
the car parked on the lawn yesterday
the window in pieces, alas, broken
the bottles in the rhododendrons

To do; remember, don't tread on the
rhododendrons
get the tires rotated
clean the dirt tinted windows
Mow the front lawn--
But the lawnmowers broken
Fix the lawnmower

why does no one ask?
we are solo embers
come see! we exist here

To do; water the backyard plants
pick up the bills
watch the time
(yeah, there's not much left)
park the car on the drive
answer the ringing phone
keep existing here

Molecular Expansion

did you know
when caterpillars cocoon
they dissolve into liquid
     every segment, every cell
     of their bodies
     dissolving into an
     unrecognizable pool
     that can only be described
as mush.

and then slowly this
indescribable soup
begins to solidify
     morphing into
     the recognizable wings
     and antenna of
     those beloved butterflies 
     we look for every summer,
fluttering swiftly away.

to become something
new they must become
completely undone.

    this. this is what grief
    does to the human heart.
    melts us into
    an unrecognizable,
    indescribable
    sorrow. 

I feel my very cells
being remade
becoming something new
in the chrysalis
of deep loss.

somehow these creatures
manage to fly
after this cellular breakdown.

    maybe I will too.



Ghosts of Poetry

Glimpses of poems gaze
upwards from pools of water,
and rippling puddles on the path
teasing the corners of my eyes

ghosts of poetry rattle and moan
in the roaring winds and
the quick zephyrs
tickling my lips

as the frost crackles underfoot
snippets of sentences and
words snap into the air
free to clutch at my ears

how is it that so much
depth can be mined from
one string of words?

simple blue words,
pulled from the raindrops
dusting the earth and
fogging the gray sky

unfurling petals reveal metaphors
that even the simplest can understand
everywhere around hide poems and poets
just tucked out of reach

only waiting for the moment to leap
and seize an authors pen
driving the ink to give shape
to otherwise ordinary moments

will you watch for the usual
to spring into unusual beauty
jolting into wakefulness
or will it wake you?