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Showing posts from 2015

Happy Holidays, Florida Style!

2015 A Year in Review I got a lot accomplished this year by letting go of things that are not good for me.  I hope you all have a wonderful Holiday Season wherever you are and whatever joyous occasion it is you celebrate that acknowledges gratefulness and new beginnings.  I hope to continue to contribute to this blog with my poetry, writing and findings and hope to inspire some of you to be creative and expressive in your lives and share the love. Let us have Peace on Earth , my friends.  That is my intention. That is my wish.  Let this year be a better year!


I am excited to announce the podcast recording of my literary flash fiction story entitled "Ex-Pats".  Thanks to Kris Baker Dersch, of No Extra Words ~ the flash fiction podcast for featuring it! :-) noextrawords/episode_9.mp3


Intentions beyond this ledge are jagged cliffs, pine trees and a lonely lake. Sorrow of a lost arrow, misdirected. It's not enough to open your hands and say come away with me. It's not enough to close one's eyes and not see the painful landscape where I once lived. Murky water, thick as milk, I was treading so long in. Now the ghost is back, coming into view--and each step closer, just as fearful of losing again. Grasp me, quick.  Pull my nakedness in with your warmth. Open me up to possibilities of strength and heights of mountains again.


"Fissures" acrylic on canvas by Cristina Querrer Within the fissures--words Caught in between the slats Like meat in between teeth Keep grinding the bone Till there is no more Furthermore no fossilized Imprints of someone's death grip To remind us of the turbulence Somewhere in the cracks Someone said "I love you" Someone else said "We're better off apart" There's the cave drawing of us Primal, minimal that just Points out the obvious "It is what you make it" Yet I try to save you From yourself and you Insist it is me who is drowning Chip away at my chivalry But you know I am right all along Another chance may come But hurry, the paint is peeling Take my hand, I'll pull you up I'm prophetic, you know Ghosts from these walls Tell me things--they say You will perish here or there But don't thank me for Bringing you to this room Because you decide