West Texas Thunderstorm - a poem

Thunder shakes the nightWind spurs adrenalineNo sleep now...more

Endless Visibility that Hands you the Horizon on a Platter

This morning, I started out my reading time with a little poetry from Billy Collins. The title of this article is a line from his poem Canada, from the book, "Sailing Alone Around the Room."What Collins does best is turn an apparently simple phrase into a numinous moment. --The New Yorker...more

because discussing skirts is not enough

because there is more to International Women's Day than skirts...http://singingbirdartist.wordpress.com/2013/03/08/because-i-am-that-woman/...more

The Present

http://happymonkeyland.wordpress.com/2013/03/07/the-present/Here I standHalf in the pastThe other in the futureTrying to live in the presentBut the present is fleetingJust a moment - then it is goneBecoming the pastEffecting the present that is now. Here I standObsessing about the past...more

Bird on a Limb

A Red-Breasted Robin perches on a limbat the edge of an airport runway.As a plane approaches and slows to zoomonto the landing strip, I wonderat the bird eagerly watching.I remember standing on the Golden Gate Bridgeto watch The Fleet Come In many years ago,and marvel at the Blue Angels flying formationsand daring feats of danger and bravado overhead....more
This is such a beautiful poem, and I really enjoyed it.  Sorry I missed it when you first came ...more

Happy Birthday Edna St. Vincent Mallay

Edna St. Vincent Mallay, who brought us the candle burning at both ends, was born on February 22nd 1892, a woman before her time....more

Tomorrow's Diet

I will give up my favorite treats.From food made with sugar,to food made with wheat. No more spaghetti, or tart lemon drops.No more sandwich cookies or Tootsie roll  pops. No more ice cream or crispy French fries.Or buckets of popcorn, or even fried rice. No more lasagna, or BBQ food.No more large pizza, unless I’m in the mood. If I get too hungry, or get really mad;I know I’ll succumb, I know I’ll be bad. ...more

New Yorker

“Ya’ll are like damn cockroaches!” a young man calls,  his lone earring shimmering behind the crowd.  Under the station’s fluorescent lights, no one  answers; but his girlfriend’s laughter  echoes against the white tiled walls....more

Glow When Transparent

Glow When Transparent: Motherhood, Christianity, Poetry and LifeGlow When Transparent: Motherhood, Christianity, Poetry and Life with Seili Wennam...more
Menu