Category Archives: art

Poetic Justice … you can take it with you

Journalism reports yesterday’s news.
Like the weather,
it needs no re-cap.
No sense keeping that around.

Fiction tells a good story.
Entertaining, but unless
those characters make a home with us,
one and done.


Poetry bears telling and re-telling,
reading and re-reading.
Poems speak newness,
reading into us, as we are new.
The one we are (the me who reads)
is new, with each reading.

peotry words

Yesterday’s poem
holds no sway over today’s me.
Perhaps, a look and see
at how it affected me.
How I landed there. then.

But today lifts off into a new wind,
under new weather conditions.
Today the poem is a completely new flight.
New flight plan, same pilot.

There is no quenching living words,
they continue to speak:
to draw the heart out
to fill the soul up
to still, no activate, no ignite, no…
distill … can’t make up my own mind,
must let it make itself.

These are powerful words that propel me:
to places I’d never go otherwise,
with people I’d never meet otherwise,
that I came to the poem,
and it met me there
but didn’t leave me there,
didn’t leave me at all.
It stayed.

What is a poet
but one who lives a life that speaks?
Your life speaks.
It’s poetry
as you write it —
see how it changes you,
as you write
and they,
as they read.

Write that.



You know it when you read it.

You haven’t heard from this friend in a looong time, but it’s nice that they are trying to reconnect. You accept their friend request and they respond pleasantly enough. “Thanks for accepting my request. How are things going with you?”

You send a brief reply, intending to follow up more later. They come back with sloppy grammar (could be keyboarding error) but also phrasing this friend wouldn’t use. They end with a question, “Guess what?”

OK. She’s been hacked. How do I know? I’ve learned to recognize deceit when I read it. When we write, we expose ourselves. What we’re like, how we feel, where we’re from, what we’re up to.

Isn’t it magnificent that words can do that?

Biggest challenge going. When I put myself in print, I expose everything about myself. Do I have the boldness this hacker has?

Guess what?

I am the vine, and you …

This vine was entwined in my laces after my morning run. Look what unfolded! 

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