Tag: poet

  • Haiku

    A haiku for children leaving the nest – as my eldest is about to start college. HaikuMama bird, don’t cry.She will spread her wings and soar,just like you taught her.When the storm clouds come,she will know the winds to face—trust in your teaching.And when she doesn’t,you will be there, guiding her,hand in hand, always.

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  • What the Tide Left Behind

    I spotted you amongst the crowd so wide,with only a fleeting glance to spare—I feared this spark would not abide. A single brow I chose to flare,slipped a napkin, number scrawled,hoping you’d meet me somewhere. A love so bold, I was enthralled—our summer days felt like dragonfly dreams,in golden heat we laughed and sprawled. But…

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  • Maybe Someone Else

    Maybe someone else was supposed to be hereMaybe someone elsemakes you breakfast in bedMaybe someone elsewill give you what you needMaybe someone elsewill make you happyMaybe someone else…Maybe someone else…Maybe someone else…Maybe it’s someone else…Or maybe it’s me…Or maybe it’s me.

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  • I Loved You Quietly

    Like a soft breeze,barely there but seenin the tender dance of tall trees,swaying gently.We never got caught upin the terribly fierce winds—preoccupied with the factthat my body was soaking wetfrom the previous storm.We were sitting, waitingfor the wave of rain to pass.And I was still standing.We were both standing,watching the sway of the trees.

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  • Remember When

    I want to remember you like this.I want to remember us like this.In the years ahead, when you’ll be across the roomand I’ll barely rise from the bed,I want to remember what it felt likewhen we were giddy in love.I want to remember the feeling of our hearts—with every chance we’d get—to smile and get…

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  • Say It Plain

    vacant eyes search for a signI could be magnetic and willing,but he doesn’t regard the ocean depths of me, the aching for more, for poetry–ah, the dreadful unwillingness to see.talks of our daily routines, the weather,adding comic relief and little simplicities–but he doesn’t observemy profound need for intimacy.to stand there in front of mesearching for…

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  • What’s Your Flavor?

    Across a vast majority of this towna lonely routine circles around: no one to stiror consume my gracious ways.A scoop of plain vanilla under bright sprinkles,when the only thing that anyone wants is the cherry on top;I yearn to be that sweet and juicy.I want others to see me, to feel worthy to be seen.Yet…

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  • There Was Wind Blowing in the Trees

    after Gordon Henry My grandparents names stand in front of meHundreds of yards away from each other, neighborly They were always a city away,But now so close for eternityThere with the named and the namelessWhere so many lives remain only in memory There was wind blowing in the treesSun beating down upon our faceSome of…

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  • Reach Beyond

    curled up in the comfort of your room, a tapping upon your door begins calling you to answer and you… retreatback into your hollow cave back to the sheltered space you’ve madefrom the idea that anyone will come to your doorfrom searching what’s drifting along the shorefrom the ghost that haunts us allfrom what hurts…

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  • Fingertip Ballet

    Walking along the shadows of the night, your voice resonated outside the bar, where I stumbled in to see you on stage. The lights were low, and the focus was upon you. Mesmerized by your passion, everyone in the room was captivated— by the gift, the rawness, the vulnerabilities, so easily exposed. It was a…

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