Poem Rerun: “Togetherness” And Writing Updates

So…this past month has been a bit of a rough patch for me, writing-wise. Work has kept me busy and I think that’s part of it.

Anywho, I saw this poem in my Facebook feed from about 3 years ago.  It’s those quiet mornings that mean the most to me sometimes. The togetherness, the comfort of arms holding you close, feeling loved. It keeps me in once piece…



Each warm smile

was magic

we live wild

with blazing mornings

and times with you

that breathe and steam

an eternity young and never old


Poem: Next To You

Arms, hips, thighs
Legs and ankles
It’s more than just warmth
Heat that simmers
Smooth skin against rough

Then it’s boiling
Breath gasps
And breathing in
the chaos of
Something glorious

Chaos so beautiful
It hurts to look at
Even clichés sound better
Next to you

Poem: Saying Goodbye

About a week ago, Mike and I had to say goodbye to his dog, Marley. He had Lyme disease that went to his kidneys and after a few trips to the vet we were saying goodbye sooner than we ever thought possible.

Although he wasn’t mine, I loved him. He was our family and now he’s gone. We are dealing with it as best we can. But it’s never easy saying goodbye.

Saying Goodbye

I didn’t want to say the words, “put down”
Like he was some shiny toy
We had picked up and lost interest

too cold to think of leaving
Such a treasure behind
to think of all the tail wags, the last sniffs in the snow

the moment before the final moment the worst
a deep sleep that hurts
One final pin-prick, back leg trembles.

I couldn’t find the words to say
I’ll help you
I’m right here
I’m sorry

Then, sobbing in the car like I’d lost something I’ll never find again

Tail wags, brown, liquid eyes full of courage
You’re hurt and you’re dying and all you have to say is: I love you

Poem: Heartbreak Feels


time given

love lost

to move on

without you



like the color yellow

sometimes ugly

possible bright days a head



feet like lead

days stuck in shadow

heart beats a

heavy, tuneless, solo


when it hurts to breathe

when the smell of shampoo

has you sobbing in the grocery store


we store our memories

with time and love

and heartbreak

Happy Valentine’s Day! Now, Go Love Somebody!


I couldn’t seem to think of what to write tonight. I thought about sharing a poem that I wrote back in the college days…but nothing seems to fit the Valentine’s day/love theme that I am trying for.

It’s so weird to look back sometimes and see how different my writing was then. Back in the college days when I was writing for creative writing classes…when I was nineteen and twenty. It’s neither good or bad, just different. I wrote with a freedom then that I don’t seem to have now. I wasn’t embarrassed by my childish notions.

Life and adult-hood was so new to me, and I relished more in the freedom to create, in having a voice and the words to say. But I digress, really. No time to go down that rabbit hole…

Today is Valentine’s day and if you haven’t already, go tell your loved ones that you love them! Mike, the other half, took me out for a nice dinner and we ended the night quietly eating ice cream and both of us working on each of our projects. Me, revamping a resume that sorely needed doing, and him playing WOW, (which I’m sure if I wasn’t busy doing other things, I might be whining that he’s not paying attention to me, but whatever.) He certainly looks cute over there, sitting in his computer chair…(sigh.)

Make tonight your oyster. Be content with what you have, and if you don’t have it…go out and find it. One of the best Valentine’s nights I ever had wasn’t with a significant other. It was with my mother, my sister and my baby niece, Lilly. Us four ladies made dinner together, and watched Brave that night, and were content to be loved by sisters and mothers and babies and it was a night of togetherness that I’ll never forget.

So it doesn’t matter who you love, go out and love them.

Happy Valentine’s Day everyone! And Happy Writing!

Poem: Morning, Love

Nothing more sexy 

than an early morning

roll over, sleepy smile

“Morning,  babe”

One semi -foggy look

bare chested and rough hair

beard thick and hand-touchable 

God, I love the deep brown

eyes that crinkle and beckon

smooth skin and warmth 

so luxurious and sink into

until there’s nothing more natural 

than saying, “Good morning”

to the one you love

Magnetic Poetry: Morning Kisses

I was having a thought after dropping Mike off at work this morning: I love summer.

I thought that I would write more since I’m not all depressed from the winter blues, but turns out it is just the opposite!

I want to be outside and about enjoying the great weather, which is great, too, but doesn’t always mean I’ll be sitting at my desk writng…hmm.

Figured it was time for some Magnetic Poetry, it has been awhile.

Hope you all are enjoying your weekend! 🙂 Happy Writing!

Morning Kisses


your kisses are delicious

let morning shivers

melt away

in each concrete embrace

A New Poem and 200 Followers!

Just wanted to send a quick thank you to Arisa Mameda for being my 200th follower! I never thought even 199 people would be interested in this blog, and I almost gave up on it at one time. Although, the process is going slower than I thought it would, it IS growing…and I couldn’t be more proud. Thank you everyone for reading!

And for a treat, here’s a poem I wrote back in my college days. I was at my prime creativeness back in those days.

It’s actually quite appropriate considering I was reminiscing about my college days at work today and about my British lit teacher who I had such a big crush on back then.

Now you can see how much (more of) a dork I was back then…but ah, he was my muse. 😉



I thought about asking him to lunch today,

apologize for my lack of enthusiasm

Tell him that I love him and whip out my book

and beg him to read Paradise lost to me.


I thought about how that might look though

Sitting there across from me

Dreaming about running my fingers through your hair,

me leaning forward as far as I could–


I might wonder what he’d look like if he wore contacts

what he’d look like in a setting

not lit by fluorescents


If he might have a woman somewhere— anywhere

Someone he’s made promises to

Wonder if he’s gay.


Does he have an older brother?

A house full of sisters waiting to welcome him?

Their arms open wide, a pair of pudgy arms—


I might want to know what brought on his devotion

of ancient poets—why Chaucer excites him?

Why he gets lost in Paradise Lost?

Why Beowulf does not intimidate?


During class his radio voice washes over me

and lulls me into that dream-like place

that I just left twenty minutes before.

Magnetic Poetry: “Togetherness”

Because occasionally I guess I do really like that man in my life. 😉

I call this one, “Togetherness.” Was putting it together while we were making chili tonight for dinner. The poem started out a lot darker, but that’s not really the mood I wanted for tonight. I figured it would be nice to have a more positive note to this poem, considering all the lousy days I’ve been having lately. Plus, I really am just a sap at heart.


Each warm smile

was magic

we live wild

with blazing mornings

and times with you

that breathe and steam

an eternity young and never old

It Really IS a Wonderful Life…

These last couple days have been a blast. Christmas isn’t apparently just one day in our house, we have been celebrating more of a Christmas week. I think it is definitely time to start eating healthier again, though, and to start exercising. And on that note, while taking a walk on Christmas day near my Grandma’s house, we came upon an old cemetery, and this headstone:

wpid-img_20141225_160829935.jpgNot only is it interesting that this person from middle-of no-where-upstate, New York, fought and died for his country, someone somewhere out there still appreciates him. He was a veteran and that still matters, even if it happened over 50 years ago.

The flowers in front of his headstone were blown over and covered with leaves, but we dusted them off, and nestled them in front of his grave. The wind was blowing and the rain started splattering on our faces, and I tried to identify the significance this moment could possibly have.

Was it sad to be in a graveyard on Christmas afternoon? Was the rain and gloominess really just a way to emphasize it? Every little detail became so important suddenly: the curiosity on my boyfriend’s face as he yells across the headstones: “Look at this one, babe!”

wpid-img_20141225_155031537_hdr.jpgThe way the land curves and rolls; the mounds of grass, the moss that grows in splotches; and the path that cuts through the cemetery between tall, long-limbed trees. If you stood at one end of the path and looked down it, you get the impression that it goes on forever; that life continues somewhere on the “other side” where the road ends.

And meanwhile, the sky is so gray the clouds seem grumpy, like steel-gray eyebrows furrowed in disappointment, that it seems nearly impossible to find the light in the darkness, to stand tall and go about your day.

Except, I wasn’t sad or disappointed, I just felt…blessed. I was thankful to be where I am, in the country I am, with the people who I love and that belong to me. I felt proud for this soldier who had represented my country, and honored that I was the one who righted his flowers, to tell him, (even if it was just in a small way), that he did matter and still does to those who understand freedom and cherish it like I do.

I felt irony because of the name on the headstone, which happens to be the veteran’s father: George Bailey.

George Bailey, the name of the character in It’s a Wonderful Life, the man who didn’t know what wealth truly was until it was taken away from him. That our worth isn’t measured in the dollars in our pockets, but in the lives we touch and the people who love us most.

And isn’t that at the heart of Christmas?

wpid-img_20141210_161130902.jpgI had a fantastic holiday, and I hope everyone else did, too. Did you do anything special this year? Vacation in the tropics? I’d love to hear about it.

Happy Writing everyone!