New Video

This is my latest creative outlet; I’ve video edited another poem.  Though it probably took me an hour or two to write “That Woman” the first time, it took me 6 weeks to film and edit it!  Challenges keep us young though, right?halfhour (1)Here’s the link if you want to see me try to be That “Wild” Woman.


A Simple Poem


, ,


I wish I were simple


red balloons are pretty

popped they are a tragedy

ice cream loves me

and mud is fun



but I am the layers of loam in the wood

a thousand colors

just in the spectrum of green

and one hundred and eighty degrees

stretching from dank earth to full bloom


the worst of times are those when I am still

but not quiet in my mind

thoughts buzz like hives moving their queen

the world’s weight on every wing

visions building mountains

where mole hills once stood


a multitude of dimensions playing hide

while my conscious mind desperately seeks

to make sense of that which fades and haunts

reality peeks from behind tree trunks

only to duck in owl holes

leaving me wondering – who

I really am and why

I must feel so much

when all I want to be


is simple

Wisdom over Pearls



I can not be bought with shiny things
nor with clouded promises painted on blue
ribboned boxes and gilded trinkets will not secure me
fragrant blossoms and sweet treats will not endear me

bathe me instead in authentic words
pin them like forget-me-nots upon my skin
bring me thoughts far-fetched and freshly picked
fragrant bits of daydreams and schemes sprinkled at my feet

and when my ears are full and my brain is drunk
bring me back down to this physical plane
with hands hard against effervescent flesh
hold me, mold me until again I take shape

A Practice in Not



I lace myself in
and push myself forward
while tirelessly climbing
a horizontal line

hold my tongue
and take the microphone
to speak my mind
within this vow of silence

to be beyond reproach
is my approach to this
game without play
yet daily strive to disobey

and so wildly paint
a most brilliant me
with a thousand shades
of beige

and faithfully I am vigilant
in the overseeing
of the undoing
of what would naturally be me

When the Sky Orgasms, She is Not Shy


, , ,

I trudged through a haze of my own making
wondered at my purpose and place
challenged the existence of this higher power
readjusted my heavy bags and searched for my car

glanced up as I moved through the parking lot
stopped mid-step
charcoal smudges of cirrus were smeared broad across a liquid pink sky
drawn like tilled rows of crumbled Oreos on melted rainbow sherbet

colors so ridiculously intense
bands so geometrically parallel
it could only be the nights dreamy story drawn in indigo ink
tempting the breathless sun with one last tango

jaw still gaping, breathing long since forgotten
my mind smiled reassured and then slapped my ego
yep you got skills big G
when you’re done with this display

I could really use a hug later



, , ,


at the end of any day they will always cradle me
better yet in a tirade they will yell louder
even throw large paper clips
and stomp their tiny feet
when I might cringe at such a thing
but they know they give me strength

and if ever I’m in love
you’d think they’d scoff me
but they do not
they polish themselves up to shining
and come with buckets of sweet smelling petals
they spread wide, volumes of like feelings
petting the beloved passages and pointing
they open chests of these silly furry things
they call them warm fuzzies
they take them with big grins on their faces
and dump them on my head

all the while skipping
all the while filling my quill to bursting
all the while laying down clean white parchment
nodding in that way that they do
you know, that “go ahead” nod
as if they already know what it is
I am about to write