Posts for June 9, 2020


A Day in the Life of Scaredy Bear

I get on the bus
and I feel shakey
eyes on me.
I pull my coat close.

In the classroom
everyone hurries
to put things in cubbies.

I stand back
sink into my fur.

Get to your seats
but I’m not ready 
I crawl inside my cave.
That means you too 
Barry Bear.

My stomach feels sick.

Lunchtime laughs
Look! Berries, nuts and eww! Fish!

Out at recess I’d go 
up in a tree
but that’s not allowed
even on blustery days.

Back at my desk
Teacher asks a question
and I moan.

It’s time to go home.
Front seat behind
Mr. Bruce
and all is fine for now.

Bus stops, 
Woodsey Lane.
Home safe.

Mamma’s here.
Pappa’s home soon.

Time for my pjs
and Once upon a time
there were three Bears…


Long Distance

You never know
Who you might talk to
Late at night
During a global crisis
With no end in sight
Plan accordingly
Be kind



I feel most at ease
waking up not knowing
who I am-
the morning pouring in
from behind parted curtains,
urging me to discover
myself anew.


Rumsfeldian quadrant

how limited in perception
are we;

a system cannot acknowledge
its voids
for fear of


Failed Shortcut

When I left Christianity for another path,

I thought I had done something radical.

I felt relief at all the things I would never

have to do again.

And yet, the further I walk this path,

the more I find essential

things I thought I was free from.


I find myself turning to prayer.

Gratitude is recommended

by all my gurus

and even by therapists.


keeps knocking

at the door of my heart.

I continue to learn patience

through situations beyond

my control.

And I still must walk in faith

of things I can not see.


I thought I’d found a shortcut to spiriruality.

A more joyful road, maybe.

But a path that’s just as long.


Sink Full of Dishes

because my lover
touched it
I’m dreaming about breaking
this glass in backyard grass

instead of washing it

I want to burn
my body from the center
of its petals
and out

fire ceasing only in ash

I pick up the candle to drink
but my quick flame
is quenched


I fall asleep on the sofa

I fall asleep on the sofa

Rain falls,
the only poetry
this night.

It was my intention to write
stanzas of three

but rain
wrote one better
than I could achieve..


the cage

being released,
coming back to youself
after a long, ignorant encagement
is jumping off a bolder
outstretched over a river
and coming up for air
once again

the realization of how lonely
it is to miss youself
to be so distant
from the God living inside you
the God living all around

to not stifle the way you love
to embrace everything
and live
like the future
will hold everything
you dreamed
while you were caged


Passing Through

I’ve been a lot
of places,
but this land
I grew up knowing
that has suddenly
is by far the
most preposterous
and dismal.

They’ve torn
down the
and hauled
them away
in big trucks,
and widened
the roads
miles out of town
to anywhere else.

There’s a menagerie
of gas stations
and fast food
and amenities
designed just for
pit stops
because no one
wants to stay
here anymore
in the town that
used to be a forest,
but now is
nothing but
high gray walls.


I am her.

I scream songs in my car

I know the lyrics to a billion songs

I drive with one hand out the window

I dance in empty parking lots

I eat in my car alone

I laugh at my own jokes

I over love and over care

I give people my all

I break stereotypes

I do what I want

I say what I want

I drive too much

I dream big


There’s so much more

That I should appreciate

When it comes to me

I am weird, I am different, I am wild

And to me that’s beautiful.


This poem is to remind myself that I am me, and I should love me.