Posts for June 30, 2023


may flowers be june this year

and other calendrical adjustments wheel
us aloft and anon in a new time a new era it is

always so; you, shaking out the crust and dust of too old mud 
daubers that powder float away when my boot meets your thrust

knob for knob and bit for bob and tattle tan your hiding and seeking
and finding you alone in the shower you are slicked for the picking

up and lollipop licking my face and quick for the drilling up of your rod
and staff with my grip on the knowledge base of the erecting redirecting event

horizon, we don’t want to break free swirling we whee at the crushing gravity we are
in it for the whirl of the curve of the lip more than tip

top shape and escape is not the way
not the way round is the only

real game in town
my rained on again

sailor in port
hot chowing

his gut

of trust

choke out



I’m already exhausted from tomorrow.

Driving nauseatingly curvy roads

to attend a funeral.

I will have to wear the good boy mask

all day long.

And pretend I’m not uncomfortable

being in the church

of a God I don’t worship anymore,

not their God,

not the way they worship,

pretending that

the Supreme Court

didn’t just legalize


against people like me.

I already feel tired

and emotionally beaten down

from spending hours

with people who don’t see me

and probably never will.


I’m tired of being a spy

trapped behind enemy lines.




you were in the floor 
lips white and eyes closed
our daughter and I 
shared a look of fear

and all I could think
was that you couldn’t go
because we’ve got so much 
to do


Upper Falls, Letchworth State Park NY

Down flights and flights
Of stone stairs
Before you see a thing.
Down is not so hard
As coming back up
When your muscles
Have already hiked
the side of a mountain and back.
The view worth the struggle
Of gasping breath and
soreness the next day.
I could sit for a year

Watching the water fall by.



Quite ironic… 
how the fears of being erased
Shown through
in The midst

of desperate attempts
to prove the opposite

Intentionally scrambling 
all day long
For the right words
The right sequences 

To express 
beyond thought

What I’ve noted is this;
 That feels remotely 
like goodbye

I’ll avoid, overthink
and undoubtedly 

Though an end doesn’t portray 
adequately what’s actually 
brought about an entirely new beginning 

I walk out of June as a thriving woman
I’ve soaked up every word you presented
Ive felt your hearts exposure!
What could possibly compare?

I’ve stepped out of the box
that I placed myself in.
I wrote 10 different beautiful 

To express with enough honor 
that today’s the beginning of the end

And forget every other
pointless word blurted until now:

from myself somehow

This month.. this year almost took me away
Until I was allowed empty pages to safely convey 
the dark sides, the hope and the in betweens

God. What beautiful humans that I’ve needed to see!




Three Haiku to Take You Home

[thanks to all the LexPoMo folks! I started to run out of time for reading and commenting the past 2 weeks, but I at least stayed faithful to the mission!] 

Counting syllables
in the Hilton Netherland
haiku convention

The air clears of smoke
while heat overtakes the place
blast furnace city

pre-teens in sequins 
descend on Paycor Stadium
blooming Swifties 


looking for mercy

she told me she was

on the spectrum
no shit
oh boy
i thought
She meant 
but my mind went
straight to narcissistic
confusion reigned hell for
awhile anyway i digress
at what point would cognitive dissonance be
replaced with compassion
and Empathy to dominate
hell, why not
make it heaven 


Love poem #1

To kill time beautifully
is to leave fingerprints on every hour
labyrinthine touch loosed
like fireflies like lightning unbottled
to lose and find and live again
to love in the process



The city’s growing. 
Build a bridge over water. 
The horizon’s near. 


Registration photo of Tania Horne for the LexPoMo 2023 Writing Challenge.

Off kilter

I have been feeling odd-
one moment in tune, clear,
a voice like Emmy Lou’s in my head-
but trailing off to something jarring,
like Iris Dement-the words braying
but still soaring.

I am not quite in step, 
the path quavers, but rises ever forward.
I see the glory in the ashes and the flame,
in crumbled walls and smooth paths-
I am no longer certain being orderly
would solve anything.