Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “on your/my plate.” Use it any way you’d like. Have fun! … More
When Perfection Eludes
I’m in here.
Scared to death
When perfection eludes.
the ursine fur I bear
how did we go from
hairy bodies with clean faces
to bare skin and bushy beards?
Unwrapping the Gift of Wenceslas
I have to be honest; I’ve never liked this carol much.
“Moist” – #SoCS
Moist is for cake. Only. Ever.
Time to put some more of our “White Gilt” to work.
Never Say “No” to Angels
Why do we push against the things we need the most?
crying eyes cast downward
This canvas was not meant to be pierced.
a lot of nerve – #SoCS
Different is good
Lifeguard on Duty
I keep moving my arms away, but those ossified weights just keep pulling her under.
Choosing a Ring – #SoCS
My Ring doorbell chime still has a witch cackle from Halloween. I should probably change that – or not. There … More
a work of unbroken openness – part 2
Look at all those holes…
Working through mental illness is not about being clever. ~ In fact, it’s the opposite of clever. Sometimes you have to stop thinking in order to ever think clearly again.
How long can that caterpillar stay in chrysalis before it dies and can never emerge?
I need you to see some flesh on the jagged bones of the life themes I’ve expressed in my poetry.
closer to poetry
editing is god.
– and good.
The Christmas That Almost Wasn’t
December 26, 2018. Yesterday could have been a very different Christmas. 21 days ago, I tried to take my own … More
Blessings and Breakage – Thoughts on Christmas and 2017
Blessings and breakage live perilously close to one another.
At times, blessings and breakage intertwine, to the point where you often can’t tell one from the other, if, in fact, they are not already one and the same.
What am I DOING here?
I have long had a personal distate for the interview question, “Where do you see yourself 5 years from now?” … More
When You Start, it’s Just a Pile of Wood.
In order to become something useful or beautiful, that pile of wood has to go through a transformative process that only a true woodworker understands. And for this craftsman, that process becomes very personal, with the wood an extension or representation of myself, going through life, going from a pile of wood, to becoming something beautiful and useful.