Words, the author’s building blocks, filling half a city block. One after another, bound words, alphabetized and organized, surrounded by gray bricks, one after another, neatly stacked. Words transformed into books and bricks transformed into a building, by artists’ hands, inviting others to step in. I meant to accept the invitation and lose myself in …
“A Tear and a Smile” (a tribute & audio poem)
Two passions become one when I listen to his words while looking through my lens at scenes found in natural settings. Natural details that he captured with an artist's eye and retold with a pen over one hundred years ago. Separated by time and distance, I am connected to him through his simple and direct …
Continue reading “A Tear and a Smile” (a tribute & audio poem)
Music, Movement, and a Mosh Pit (video & verse)
A slightly stoopid poem Walking the same road taken when heading to my first show. A sneaky teen, I was, but my choices were void of malicious intent. I was just a loyal follower, drawn to his rhythm, his lyrics, and his British accent. Solitary confinement was my due punishment. I am all grown up …
Continue reading Music, Movement, and a Mosh Pit (video & verse)
The last, at last (flash fiction)
The echo of music, laughter, clinking glasses, dancing feet, and crisp turned pages lingered in the room. The freshly painted walls were alive with angelic dancers, projected by flickering flames. Two figures on the balcony became one silhouette when he pulled her close. His soft kisses on the back of her neck were interrupted by …
A Hopeful and Musical Reflection
The framed featured photograph of the Twin Towers (above) had a place of prominence in my current office for over eight years. Hanging on the wall directly across from my office door and to the right of my computer, I have gazed at this photo countless times for a total of seventeen years. Even though …
Honeysuckle Heat (episode 3)
from (previous) Honeysuckle Heat… In their floating dream they remained until the first hint of morning burst over the distant mountains, causing them to dart from the water, grab their crumpled clothes, and sprint back to the house, laughing with each hurried step. Once inside, they fell onto his unmade bed, into each other’s arms, …
Spirit of the Land
"Love Poem" by Leslie Marmon Silko Rain smell comes with the wind out of the southwest. Smell of sand dunes tall grass glistening in the rain. Warm raindrops that fall easy (this woman) The summer is born. Smell of her breathing new life small gray toads on damp sand. (this woman) whispering to dark wide …
Prickly Conversations (audio)
"Prickly Conversations" (audio - poetic prose) For several days (maybe more) your invites, I ignored. I do hear you, but I would rather not be bothered by the heat and your prickly thorns. “Grab your camera!” I hear you saying to me, “You must see my canvas, that the monsoons transformed.” Fine! I will go! …
Feathered Fans
My feathered fans took notice of me the one who turns their water sweet calming breaths, but radiating heat hovering close, they tried to cool me Their feathered fans, a pleasant breeze I appreciate their attempts to please but they only tired their tiny wings and I remained hot under my tree Between the flying …
Her Cottage by the Sea (continued)
A morning spent tracing curves with slow and deliberate fingertips. They release a power that contradicts- soft, sensual, and delicate yet, they spark a fire within. They form the shape of words absorbed by her salty and sandy skin. Unspoken words turn to ash when they are drawn in to a body that pulses with …
