Child’s Play

Our childhood monsters
call to us
from dreams
and memories found
in farthest corner
of the mind
They have grown strong
and cunning over time

While we thought we were
ignoring them,
them, instead
we were letting
them grow
in the dark

Now they are almost
Their power
over us
is subtle
but oh-so strong



In the beginning
trepidation, excitement
so much to look forward to

I will begin
I will step
into a world
swirling with chance and choice
a broken world full of hope

Anything can happen
that is the fear and the wonder
anything can happen


This is for dVerse Poets Pub.  Click on the link and check it out.

Pax/ Pox

Every screen
shows us
a bombing
and a shooting
and another
and many others
Atrocities abound
And we-
we bleed, weep and keep
Moved beyond words
showing our best
the arguments start
Who has the greatest
and who is
at fault
whose policy failed
who can we punish
Our finest impulses
are buried in
shrapnel, bile and fear


Jackson Pollock, Black Flowing, No. 8

Jackson Pollock, Black Flowing, No. 8

does it come from,
that feeling:
standing on the edge
of a tall building
holding the railing
looking down
what is it inside us
that wants to jump?
From the center of the chest,
this impulse,
to jump,
off the edge of the known
like a cliff diver
through clouds – air – water
It frightens us
this feeling
making us step back
but what if we stay
at the edge,
and feel
the uncoiling,
letting go
through a sky of knives
Falling through time and
plans and promises
and life.
Letting go,
falling from blue into grey
And what if we don’t fall?
What if we fly?

This was written in response to a promp by Karin at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads.  The Pollock image is from Tess at Magpie Tales writing group.


Statues by Jason deCaires Taylor

Poets are not afraid to drown. -Janet Frame

From little on we are
rocked in cradles
on waves,
pulled back and forth
by sun and moon
As we go deeper
we do not fear,
though we are ruined
we do not fear,
through countless days and nights
poets are not afraid to drown