Monday, December 29, 2014

Person of Interest

My frozen fingers
Touch your heated

We are each other
We find ourselves
Inside each others

This is 5:45
The time for touching
The wait is over
For skin against

It's been a day of
cold words
cold glares
cold ideas

But against you
I am warm

I am who I need to be
You are my person of interest
my lover of lovers

You fill a void
I never knew existed
Until your warm fingers
Touched my frozen

Sunday, December 28, 2014

Every Season

Crochet angles on the tree
in choral rounds
sing hallelujah
little toy horses ride away
with your heart inside

every season
is the season
to fall in love
everyday is the day
for kisses and prayers

golden leaves
and a smarter breeze
bring lovers in close
falling leaves and frost bit toes
and children in coats

every season
is the season
to fall in love
everyday is the day
for kisses and prayers

little tiny flowers
little tiny birds
little tiny jackets
and freedom is in the air

waves crashing
on the sandy shore
and songs around the campfire
sing oh Carolina
lovers holding hands in the light

every season
is the season
to fall in love
everyday is the day
for kisses and prayers

Saturday, November 29, 2014


I lit the tall white candle and asked the angels to watch over me for one more night.

I have depression and low self esteem, even at 40,
Something I learned when I was 16
I am lifting my confidence into the sky, but sometimes I ask for angels

perhaps alone on frozen ground
perhaps alone on sacred ground
the ground I walk on everyday
one will lead me
to see what I need is what I want

a refuge from another day of dying on a strangled planet
I have low confidence my voice barley whispers
even when it's something I really want

I'm falling into the stormy seas
Snow flakes and angels
Pushed like a cross
From the cliffs upon the sea

I ask for another angel from the heavens
I'm all alone and need their powers to make it through the night

Bring down your angel wings and protect me through the winter
through this growing under snow: covered streets and houses

Swimming through the stormy seas
a hypothermic stranger
pushed upon the shore by tides
and able to knock on a strangers door

You can't hear me, I'm a new woman
You can't see me I'm dancing in the light
You don't need me, I'm not your mother

I'm an independent woman
So watch me walk like the winner
of this stretch of path called life

Alone I lit the tall white candle
used the heat to warm my hands
asked the angels to wrap their wings around me
for one more night.

Wednesday, November 12, 2014

A rebuild

rebuilt my house
rebuilt my soul
cleaned out the broken
brought in the new
covered the cracks
made walls stronger
cleared the fireplace
made breath warmer

scooped up loved ones
took them with me
rebuilt the door
that let you in and out
rebuilt the desk
I write you love letters on
and still
I am without you

rebuilt the heart
and how it beats
rebuilt the chemicals
in the brain
rotted out the sadness
and replaced it with sunshine

and you said it couldn't be done

Sunlight will rise in the morning
just be alive
in the darkness

Sunday, November 9, 2014

MS Fear

The truth is I'm scared and I push it all down. I know I push it down because I wake up from my dreams confused frightened and disturbed. During the day there is nothing that can stop me . I live alone, I eat at returants by myself, I go to movies by myself, I don't drive so I walk and take cabs.

The truth is I'm scared, I'm sure I'll get this novel done and this script done and people will know I did know what I was talking about and I could do it. But until then I'm scared that I will keep living like this day in and day out. I'm scared of the power bill this winter I scared of the drive way and it's need to be plowed I'm afraid of singing to loud and upsetting the neighbours I'm afraid
of getting into that cab by myself and how the cab driver will think of me all alone and not able to do everything 100 percent by myself what people will think of me if I need help.

The truth is I keep going and it rots my sleep. It rots my health because I'm on anti depressants it rots my friendships because I'm so busy "hiding it all in" that I have nothing to talk to. SO scared that people are judging my life that I don't talk about it.

Awake I'm not afraid but deep inside I break through a lot of barriers just to eat breakfast in the morning, just to take the cat out for a walk, afraid that she'll dash out in the road. Chase the neighbours cat, chase the cat under the porch.

I'm afraid I can't afford music lessons and groceries after rent is paid that I've used too much of my savings for fun this summer for the unexpected like stepping on the lap top and having to get a new one.

And yet I sing and layers and layers of emotional garbage fall from me and I feel free and I feel like I know who I am. And I know that although I may not be able to get that new couch I wanted I get that new me I wanted. I am scared I don't practice enough. I'm scared I haven't written enough over the past 15 years trying to pull my shit together. My ego, in my dreams , goes all the things that could go wrong if I'm successful, and because I'm not, and I just want to get this shit written down.

When I went to the city last weekend I had nightmares for two days of not knowing where I was when I woke up of living in many different houses with many different people. When I lived in the city, in different houses and different people, all I wanted was to be alone and when I was alone I was frightened. And I was alone, but it didn't stop me from doing things, I fought through the fear and it affected me other ways.

This is the first year (and coffee helps A LOT) where I can come home and spend the night awake and writing. This is the first year in a long time I can focus and do things. This is the first time I can lead my mind to write and create and be strong enough to lock myself in a little room with two cats and write. But it's frightening. What if the words aren't there. What if they are, what if after I get it all done I have to do all this editing. (I looked at what I've got so far and it needs a lot of editing.) It doesn't happen over night, nothing has happened for me over night everything has taken time and that time is frightening.

So deep breath Ms Thang You're afraid, so is most of the population, you just admitted it now be with the fear so you can get through it and not have it control your sleeps anymore. Not let it control your friendships and your life.

Sunday, November 2, 2014

Heart Shaped Rocks

Hello my lover
Hello myself
I place
This heart shaped rock
Between us
And open up
To the truth

Take my hand
We'll explore
A million pasts
Across a million planets

We speak
Like ghosts of the past
Sulking through
Cracks in the house

I hear us breathe
I hear us think
I hear the silence
I've been yearning for

You all day

I am a traveller
But I want to spend
This life
In this spot

Everything else can fall away

We will find
Our heart shaped rocks
In the mire

Saturday, November 1, 2014

Cat Cave

Just an update from the Cat Cave. That's what I'm calling my bed room. I'm cleaning it up now so I don't feel bad spending so much time in there. I have brought the writing desk and the tree in from the sun porch and have put the desk in my bed room.

It's winter now, the time will go back tonight, and it'll be dark when I leave for work and dark when I come home from work. It'll be cold and over whelming and Duncanville eats heat like crazy, there are so many holes and leaks throughout the tiny apartment.

It's the time of year where I curl up and sleep through the darkness which is a lot of sleeping. I feel helpless to my body and helpless about what the days are doing. I'm beating it this year.

I'm going to devour my endless books in the darkness, in the candle light, I'm going to drag the computer in the bat cave and write until 9 or 10 o clock at night I have some ideas I'm working with.

And I'm going to sing.

The depression of the winter will not beat me down.

So far I'm in love with my self time.

Wednesday, October 29, 2014

The Ripped Flesh Project

I take my good judgement and withdraw unto moonlit rivers and candle lit alters. The page and the pen spewing words that I would only ever tell a lover, or myself. I'll find my heart under the ashes of burned in sense, of gods oils, and romantic flower petals.

Walking home amongst the falling autumn leaves, rose' sunset and becoming giddy by the words I start to see in my heart; on the page.

I lock myself in a dark room and do nothing but touch pen to paper.

The stories doesn't say much at first, it's just me sitting on the chair watching the candle burn. I pull tarot cards about tricksters and virgin forests. I take my sock off over a flesh wound I have on my right ankle due to an ill fitting pair of boots that stole my heart and seemed uber practical. I had to take them back, threatening to show said wound if the store clerk refused. My sock remained sticking to the puss of the back of my leg and in return I bought the fluffiest pair of boots I could find.

those returned boots reminded me of tech boots ,steel toed, steel bottomed. The kind I wore with mermaid dresses in university, a time when I was still unaware of awareness but aware that everyone was thinking thoughts without me. I Still wanted to be someone who fit in.

Sophia looked down on her daughter as she sent her to earth," it's going to be hard to find peace baby in this life time, it's going to be hard to find peace on this earth, it's never been a peaceful place, but I'll put you in a tiny little place where it's peaceful and you have to navigate the rest for yourself."

Baby looked back at Mama Sophia while she was still in the womb and said there is a lot of unrest in this word even in this tiny little world it is hard to find peace when the world is so up in arms.

Sophia said find books find music find candle light and find Duncan Ville and in there you will start to find peace.

Baby looked back "I will start to find peace?"

That's as far as I can see baby girl, that's as far as I can see.

She asked me "When was the last time you were in love?" I thought for a moment over the years that seemed like nothingness of the past I wondered if everyone felt like the last forty years in their life was like a drop in the bucket or if they were fulfilled with memories and emotions.

I separated the romantic acts from the actual romance and felt empty and unloved. Before I could answer she said "Use the time you were in love in your music"

The music went flat

I thought about the boy in university who I was sure I was going to marry. I thought about the touch that meant nothing when I was as far away from myself as possible.

and I just wanted to sing like me the love would come.

When I went to buy my favorite boots in the whole world, I went by myself, and was left to choose between the men's boots and the women's boots. So I looked at the stranger trying on his own boots and said

"Now do I get the girls boots or the boys boots?"

He said to "get the boys boots because they are always better."

They were the pair I wanted too, I couldn't possibly go wrong.

I took my favorite boots in the whole word, at least since 1998 back to the store. The store took them back and I left with money to buy a new pair I wondered why in life I was presented with such a beautiful pair of boots that did so much damage to my feet.

Sophia said "you will find it but it may take a few tries."

Friday, October 10, 2014


This morning I blew kisses
to the reflection in the mirror
this morning I saw a beauty
looking back at me

I looked in the crystal blue
eyes of my being
and said I love you
everything is fine

This morning I blew kisses
felt love in the house
I fell in love with the child
only my heart can see

The frosted leaves
blew red and gold
winter gloves with no fingers
kept my strong hands warm

I saw your face in the distance
you came over asked about the weather
I said it was cold but you made it better
There's no need for blush

On an October day like today

Thursday, October 9, 2014


Then the sparrow
on the weather beaten log
picks up one more
sunflower seed in
her beak
Her little eyes look
right at you and she's not afraid

Then the sparrow
with the brown feathered heart
flies into the air
she sings her song
Her little voice
sings to you and she's not afraid

Wednesday, October 8, 2014

melodies and dreams

there are melodies and dreams

In this little heart

in a soul the reach of the sea

are melodies and dreams

Put your hands in the water

wash away the sand

now your finger tips are

salty like god's tears

Reach your hands to the sun

the candle power of the sky

feel the spirit of the day around you

become one with who you are

I awaken before the darkness

has lifted from the earth

And see only stars

to light my way

in this little town

in a shanty by the sea

there are melodies and dreams

In this little heart

in a soul the reach of the sea

are melodies and dreams

Sunday, October 5, 2014

The Hello Kitty Notes

Last night I did a lot of thinking about who I am. I was depressed because I saw the past 30 plus years as a failure. I saw all the things I didn't achieve didn't finish didn't accomplish. But I was reading Eckhart Tolle, well at least the chapter about the Ego, which I actually didn't hate like the rest of his writing. It spoke to me; I got out of it what I needed.

I heard that I needed to take that near suicide experience and use it as a miracle. Take all that I thought was a waste of time and money and a failure and turn it around. It was a miracle I survived school; survived university and all it's craziness. It was a miracle I moved back home with my parents at 30, not a failure. It was a miracle they were there for me and let me collect myself again. It's a miracle I have the job that I do because there's not a lot of options here in B'town, and it's a miracle that I have Duncanville and the freedom that I've allowed in my life.

It may even be a miracle that what's his face in University wasn't my knight in shinning armour.

I'm allowed to lose myself in the words I create in my search for myself. Buddha teaches we are who we seek. I can search for me and not be ashamed of everything else around me and everyone else opinions. I have learned over the years to cut out what I don't want in my life (like TV) My search is to find me. I search through music and words as a way to describe who I am and how I feel. Words alone don't do it, songs alone don't do it. But the two of them together inspire my voice as it writes, as it speaks, as it sings. That makes me not just another person, but that makes me a miracle, as well as my actions. (that's written in the Hello Kitty note book)

Since I am seeking to find myself, I look back over the years and see how I put myself second. How, even though I don't have kids, I have put myself second to other people. Since all I do is write and live by myself, I can put my time into other peoples dreams. That started coming to an end two weeks ago.

I remember a friend coming back from away. He came back for jr High School and sat beside me, we were best friends, and my self esteem was so low that I didn't want him to talk to me in case people thought he was as uncool as I was. I was second to the people around me.

I remember getting my first "real job," not set out for a student, and my boss telling me, they didn't really want me they wanted someone else. Someone that all the boys wanted as a friend as well. I was second to her for the years I worked at the job, they kept her and eventually we worked side by side and are still friends but I was always second to her. I knew I wasn't as liked, as wanted, as someone else.

And in most of the men I've fallen in love with were good friends, but there's always someone else that he likes more, so I'm a friend, I'm second. And I have to realize this, in it's own way, is a miracle. That in most cases it has shown itself to be a miracle as I get to know these men better.

So where do I go from here? I go into a future encompassing all sorts of believes and understanding of my soul and my body and my love. I am after all the only me I've got.

Friday, October 3, 2014


feel the poor winds
rest on my shoulders
i shudder

feel the tired
winds empty
their pockets of the leaves

my fingers weave the water
my heart caresses the sea
my heart goes back

a child on the eastern shore
bubble wand
and pet rock

my lungs release
suck the air in
i breath another life

arms reach out
hug the winds
all the joy that comes

i believe in
what is going on
around me

i begin with the wind
and the lessons
the breezes bring to me

again I think about the wind and how
it makes my tears sting

take a deep breath
and a new
step forward

I can't see your future
but your present is all around me
and the wind

let the wind search me out
set me free
on the edge of the eastern shore

let the breeze
unravel the strings
that were part of today

Wednesday, October 1, 2014

Call Me Kay?

they all know who you parents are
so you have behave
and be good to the family lines
and show your best side

too much scat cat
his paws across the dust
the sun warm and
his fur matted he sits

listening to the river run
deep into the lake side
and listening to the river
running like the bass

a string through your heart
that makes it tick
and makes it talk like a
tin can telephone

frogs jump on the piano keys
lilly pads
do the boogie woogie
tips of fingers against the keys

webbed feet
in the key of jazz
with a sharp
that means business

I hang up the phone
you close the piano
we walk to the lake
and lean into the groove

Thursday, September 25, 2014

Growing up in the Park-- Steps

There is a park, and green grass freshly mowed and cleared.

I need to make little steps said the little Cassy

I need to walk slow because every movement brings me new grass

a lady bug

a dragon fly

a wood frog

I want to see



I want to touch the butterflies

but I know I can't

I need to trust what I'm seeing and what I'm learning so that when someone questions me when I turn 16 I will be safe in my own reality

I need to take big steps

said the big girl,

I need to dive in and not be scared

believe that all the little steps I've taken will help

when I jump over the hole in the side walk

like the frog,

Fly over the puddle like a dragon fly

Touch the caterpillar in my dream

I need to walk some of this alone

I said and some of these steps need to be done with other people

a balance

of big steps and small steps

saying I can try that

doing it on my own

then saying I don't know how to do that

getting help

I am the dragon fly

I am the wood frog

and I become the butterfly

Wednesday, September 24, 2014

Vision in Words

It was 1000 years ago and everything was different and I was standing on the bridge blowing clouds into the desert. The people of the the sand had spoken for rain, had wished for rain. And I believe in magic so I held out a cloud and sent it across the border into the dunes.

There was a small fish waiting for water, had he waited for one more second he wouldn't have lived. That one drop of water gave him breath and the second drop gave him movement and then he swam in the mudpuddle that the cloud was making.

More clouds followed and there was soon a small pond. It looked like a mirage so no one who saw it trusted the vision enough to come forward, until a small girl named Cassy rested her fingers on it's surface and cleaned the sand from the bends of her fingers.

Tuesday, September 16, 2014


not my photo

little drops of water
hit the fire
not a lot
just enough to

strong hands
plucked notes
on the harp
not a lot
just enough to

lucky the glass beads
didn't smash
when they hit
the floor
just bounded
across the tile

the many colours
of your heart
show me
who you are
not a lot
just enough to

Monday, September 15, 2014


I was asked today if I had a tv. I was told today of a spiderman movie and how I had to sing this week, like the villain, to train my voice to go to the right place.

I answered I don't have a tv.

And I just laughed at the Spiderman thing, but didn't admit to my singing teacher that I don't have a tv, or even net flix on my computer. TV was getting too much for me, the commercials and the violence and I wanted to read books and write my novel.

I had heard stories of people who didn't have tv and I wanted to be one of those people. I love it. But today there were two mentions of having a TV, in one day, in one day. And I feel outside and different today.

I've learned it's ok the feel "outside and different" as long as I'm happy. Because I like the life style I live. I also am wanting more and I have to balance wanting more with living in my means and what the universe and I work toward.

You hide me
Behind the curtain
Shaded me in their ripples

I walked around
The edge of the room
Spying from the outside
Looking in

The velvet furniture
The silk curtains
The TV that plays
I Love Lucy

I've still never seen
I Love Lucy

I have enough

I'm starting to
want more

"I thought you had all you need,"
she said,
"I never thought of you
wanting more."

Sunday, September 14, 2014

Just 20 Dollars

Morning broke with the alarm. I stayed in bed a little later then I should of. Last night I was writing in bed with the computer. The screen made a good night light in the dark room with a little bit of holly cole and jesse cook and this morning I stepped on the computer. It ruined it and I was promised that even though it was less than a year old, warranties would not cover such a tragedy. I learned that you can't just shut off your internet and base your work around a typewriter for a few months while you get your finances together.

The clerk found it funny that I said "Don't you just have a typewriter? That's all I need."

On the plus side it was worth it, the guy who sold it to me was nice and kinda cute, but that makes me an old lady creeping on the young boys. And my computer is red. And works better than the other one even before it was broken. I was told I should get the one that was 20 dollars more because it was just 20 dollars. It must be nice to live in a world where it's "just 20 dollars"

Since my computer was down I hadn't checked to see how much was actually in my account but I had a general Idea that I needed the cheapest computer. So there's no disk drive to play good fellas and traffic for an evening rest.

Just 20 dollars eh? I came home shocked at the actual price, compared to what was written on the little tag on the wall. And after checking on facebook and my email I went to see my account. I had 20 dollars in my bank account. Just enough to do my laundry.

the phone and power will have to wait a little while longer I guess.

Saturday, September 13, 2014


I used to write in blood
But I’m reformed now
And resort only to ripping out my soul
When sending you a letter
Not pricking the vein
Beside the heart
Writing out my words

Words, a vine,
Climbing the concrete
The leaves and fruit
Pale in wine and
Stuffed with rice and lamb
Always a bitter taste
That ends in being full

The butterfly flew
In my bedroom window ajar
On the third floor
Fluttered to the bed post
And whispered that the change
Is better than anything
A caterpillar can believe

I used to flicker in blood
Dance to the music
And then curl back up
In a deep depression
Only eating
Only living
When pushed by others

Words are ashes
On the kitchen table
Like incense
After the burn
Pale in wine
And stuffed
With pain and hunger

The butterfly
Landed on my nose
I jumped
She said
You’re more timid
Than you let others

Inside the birth
Of the butterfly
The breathing
Of the flame
I stir in the ashes
I choke on air

And learn to flicker

Tuesday, September 2, 2014


So I was meditating and my main train of thought was Why my novel seems to be stalled after some outlines and some free falls

Well, I thought, I’m just not good enough, there’s still more to learn, I can’t possibly think I’m good enough to write a novel.

What about other things like singing for people, I asked

Well I’m certainly not a good enough singer to sing in front of people and take myself seriously there’s still a lot I don’t know; people would laugh at me and say ‘even a child knows to do such and such.’

And although when I sit and put pen to paper I don’t physically think this, I’ve heard myself the last couple days focusing on the fact that I’m not very good at stuff and people should know, I know, I’m not very good.

Oh my brain

And then I smack myself (not really but sort of) and do something right. Sing High when the piano plays low learn a song I’ve never heard before take a class and achieve what the teacher asks, like a sonnet in 20 minutes.

SO what have I learned this long weekend? I will continue to remind myself I’m pretty awesome. That I can do what I put my mind to and in the true fashion of Frostyness, when I make a mistake, and need help to fix it, I say:

 I’m awesome but I need some help.

So I still may not know what counterpoint is and cannot tell you all the symbolism in Jane Eyre. But I’m going to keep writing and singing. 

And I’ll google counterpoint.

Sunday, August 31, 2014


I sang tonight and recorded myself, it was worse than I thought; I’m not going to let it get me down though. Tonight I’m listening to songs by people I admire and listening to what they do and what they sound like. I know I have a voice of my own, that sounds like no one elses; I also know I have a long way to go and I’m not going to get better unless I listen to myself, write everyday and trust my voice. I started with the truth, I know that I have hours in the evening to mess around. My morning pages are peeling away layers and my recordings will have me hear what I truly sound like.

There’s potential in it all, which is the good thing, which is the positive thing, which keeps me going, there’s a little bit of light coming through the darkness that is me trying. But there’s going to be a lot more candles needed to bring in the light.

Tonights motto is there’s still a long way to go there’s still a long way to go and that’s ok, that I see, I can see a passage I can see a path I know it’s long but I can see it, I know there’s a long path but I’m not hiding from it. I'm Crazy to go through it but it's the only way home.

I hold your kisses
In my heart
As I fly across the moon
As I soar across the universe
And go home

I hold your kisses
In my heart
As I float above the earth
A light A spirit
And see that you have loved again

And there are angels
In your midst
He takes your hand
Walks you to
The rising sun
And you fall
You fall in love again

I'll sing it for you when it sounds good you know I'm good for it


I just finished writing my morning pages. I actually went two years without writing them. There are a million and one excuses as to why. Personally I was doing all right so I never thought anything of it. Until today; today is the end of week four. And I guess I spent four weeks babbling so I didn’t have to face the truth. But last night I said “something is blocking me from writing something is holding me back.” I realized I needed to use the morning pages to “dig deep.” And I realized I’m still scared of writing, which is maybe something I will always be but last night I learned that it is a privilege that I’ve been given to be able to write and read and express myself; That there have been and still are many who don’t have that right.

I have it; I have over 40 books that teach you how to write, I know how to do it, just need to break through the fear that there is something is missing. I need to write one sentence at a time. I need to fight now, fight the part of me that coats all my fears in light so they don’t affect me. That’s what I do, make sure everything is bright on the outside and don’t let myself know the truth, and that is hurting me more than the truth would. It’s time to break open the light because I you break into the darkness there is light AGAIN.

Friday, August 29, 2014


Friday night
The town with the river
And the fountain
In the middle
Of the two bridges

Cool breeze
Bare feet
The breeze of a September night
And the blankets
In the back yard
With the bonfires

The Cricket
Sings to its lover
A song so sweet and gentle
And the sun goes down
In the back yard

The karaoke
From the local bar
Echoes through the streets
Behind the wheels
Of cars
As they drive by

And I find my peace
In the moment of a flame
In the magic of music
In nature
And electricity


Wednesday, August 27, 2014

Kiss Me

Sometimes my heart can’t say a word
It’s trying to figure it all out
Sometimes it doesn’t matter
How much I train my voice
There are still many hours
I have to be silent

It was just a kiss
I wanted
It was just a kiss
You took away
With you

There was never a chance

So many broken hearts
When someone walks away

Sometimes my lips can’t say a word
They’re left in a silent prayer

Sometimes it doesn’t matter
How long you hold hands
Along the river that runs to the ocean
There are many hours
When you walk alone

Was it just a dream
You walking along with me
I wasn’t brave enough
To hear “no” again
To speak

kiss me

Tuesday, August 26, 2014


Take the longer road

to see the butterflies flutter
along the cobblestone and broken fences
the places where life used to dwell
and now me, the lonely stranger,
is the only voice on the land

then listen to the sun
as it is covered by the clouds
a light sizzle before the rain
falls down on the front porch
and washes all the dust from my brow

and I can still dream
but I don’t see faces
the same way
 as when I was young

like a slice of blueberry pie
at gramma’s house
a silver spoon and purple tongue
but I have never been  full

I love the way
The music is playing in my head
On the way to see him
A light piano
And words that caress

I see you standing
on the front porch
and the tips of your fingers

wipe all the dust from my brow 

Saturday, August 9, 2014

Of Falling Leaves and Owl Feathers

I wake up inside the dream I become conscious and still I am asleep. The world around me becomes a symphony, the prince and his horse ride through the forest, of green moss and moon light, and he picks me up on his horse, never stopping to think about it, he just knows I am the love.

I wake up in the palace, the music hall, each instrument lamenting the marriage of the princess to her love. The sorrows and the past begin to fall around me and only the two of us are standing.

The owl feather falls onto the harp. It makes simple sound and calls out to the gods to give us the power to love together, to wake up the magic together. To wake up souls that were forbidden that weren’t to be touched weren’t to be connected in this life time, too magic too powerful and yet their passions pull them together.

The falling of the two into the abyss of love only wakes up their magic further. There is no time to pause for a moment except to move forward. We do this for each other so that we can move forward and face each other into the pink candle that burns on the ocean floor. The candle that calls us into compassion.

Night will come and day will take us away to another world another planet another moon and stars. Let the bird’s tail flit against the bass. Call to the jazz dancers and flapper girls to raise a class of gin and tonic and laugh into the night.

The cat’s whiskers twist and turn on the guitar. Let the golden leaves fall in the mist and waving and dropping against the violin strings. They morn our singleness and strike out a path that makes us united with the universe and its energies.

I’ll put the charcoal against the slate and draw humans dancing to the sound that nature makes. The slate along the sea shore; the seashore against the piano the strings slice the water a water that will soon be extinct unless we rise back up from the falling love is taking us there.

A symphony of nature and I sing, as I walk along the shore, my percussion the rocks rolling together under the water, under my feet; tigers and lions roar in my soul, in my soul the wild animals run and race my music fills that round goblet in the wave and I walk on through the echoes of the birds.

I have sang all day like I wasn’t scared of the sound of my voice, I loved like I wasn’t afraid of the repercussions. I wasn’t weak in the knees with the sound of my voice scratching and moaning untrained.

There are voices in the distance of fae and gnomes playing between the trees and mine was one of them the wind was chorus of children with voices as crisp as a falling maple leaf. The nape of my neck accepts your fingers the small hairs a-line with touch and hunger.

The sea spiders, like small eyes against the rocks run away from my step, rock to rock, like a note on the music staff and may all your dreams come true and may all your heart aches lead to love so strong the ropes around your heart, the hemp rope, like those on the sailing ship in the harbour, release and let all your doves fly into the sky and all the sea birds fly above your heart pulling your strings moving you like a dancer Rising back up from the falling in love, may it let you rise back up again.

I tip toe over the rocks and cliffs where the birds fly below me. I would die if I fell, that’s where I feel alive today, that’s where I want to go and be at one with space and time and happiness. The symphony for breakfast, for dinner, for supper, with waffles and whip cream but you’re allergic to wheat and whip cream so you have to be excited for everyone else and somewhere your heart is sad for yourself.

Rising and falling on the symphony of love.

Tuesday, August 5, 2014

Sea Glass

not my photo
After two days
Of powerful energy
Comes a day of weakness
Fall on my knees
Admit defeat

Just a day
Just a day
For tomorrow
I will
Be strong again

Over bottle caps
And broken glass
Rubbed against the sea

Through the air
Breathed by lords and ladies
Ticking with time
Love the only counter

After 16 years
Of great fighting
Wars against
My own soul
I admit defeat
And victory
All at once

Fall if only
To rise again
I will rise
Be strong again

Over sandy beaches
Water warn
Calluses against the sea

Over fields
Of chirping crickets
Pushing me along

After decades
The heart rests
A day or two

Let it know
The ticking of its own
Its own voice

Let your heart sing
Let each vibrato
Echo through
Your small apartment
Let your voice
Caress your soul

Over bottle caps
And broken glass
Rubbed against the sea

Over sandy beaches
Water warn
Calluses against them all

Monday, August 4, 2014


The deserts are dry
And the camels
Walk across the sand
In hopes of water
A tear drop
Whets their tongue
And they step a little farther
Spend years
In the desert
And when asked
How they survived

They said “we lived on tears”

Saturday, July 26, 2014

Compose Me

We dance
on the sheet of rain
that takes over
the planet

the weather man said
the whole planet
is raining
the whole earth
cloud covered

hearts are crying
it’s one of those days
our evil parts
out run our senses

I hear the rain drop
in my hair
each drop plays
a stringed instrument

I remember
the little white flowers
blowing in the wind
and I heard the symphony

I remember the time
we fell into
the wedding box
Bound to our life mates

Compose me
Compose me
like a song
like a love song

And then the rose petals
Fell like a sheet of rain
From the brides

We dance
On the raining roses
that fall over
the planet

the music will course
though me like a lover
holding tight to my skin
he speaks his songs

A seed in my heart
A golden pebble
That  grows
Into a beautiful tree of hearts

Compose me
Compose me
like a song
like a love song

The gold petals
Fall like a sheet of rain
From the gods crown
And the seeds of the heart

Begin to grow
Across the earth
And we dance

On an earth of gold

Sunday, July 20, 2014

Now enter love,,,

Let my kind hands
Be the kind hands of love
Don’t let love
Hurt my palms anymore

I believe
I will love me
Through the vacant lots
And my lost heart

Last night
I dreamed of my marriage
And know I was
In the shadow of love

The fatal image
Of hearts
Even when apart

A love so strong
That we are buried side by side
We never leave
Each others side

As I wake in dark places
Most only see on sunny days
Beaches in snowstorms
Museums in the dark of night

I begin to know
That I am with me
And you will follow
Like a knight

Now enter peace

Now enter love

Saturday, July 19, 2014

A Woman like Me

Once up on time
On the street in b’town
Rivers of roses
Bloomed in my front yard

I watched the roses in the mall
But, I had my own
In my front yard
Like pedaled rainbows

They grow like a path
For him to follow
And he sees me
Sees my thorns and my flowers

Let his love
Love a woman like me
Bring him home
To my arms

I put my fingers in his
Our palms touch
Everybody’s been there before
But him and me together

Let the words
Grow like a path
And let me rest
My illusions of love

Let his love
Love a woman like me
Bring him home
To my arms

He found me
He found me
And the blood from the thorns
Are the red of the roses

I wish I could
Of how beautiful we were
At that moment

Our faith in each other
The sun setting
The fireflies
Not afraid of the city

Let his love
Love a woman like me
Bring him home
To my arms

We were the children
Of folk and poetry
Even in our kisses
We remain the innocents

He reaches me
Even though I am
Torn and tossed
In love

He found me
He found me
And the blood from the thorns
Are the red of the roses

Once up on time
On the street in b’town
He loved
A woman like me

Monday, July 14, 2014


There’s a piece
Of time
Inside the jar

I gave this time to you
And locked it
Up tight

You’re gone now
But that jar
Has the air we breathed

There’s piece of
Red thread
Wrapped around the jar

It reminds me
Of all the love
I’ve forgotten about you

And the memories
In the air
Are left free

I smash the jar
A painting
Falls to the floor

And the red string
Is cut by the force
Of the glass

The air a memory
Of the love
I’ve forgotten about you

Saturday, July 12, 2014

Full Moon

A little focus
On the rozes
With blurry
Around the edges
As the sun tips
Its hat
And shows
Some orange and pink
And candles
Put out candles
Watch the light
To the rozes
The scent
From their petals
Is strong tonight
They are telling me to
Make a wish on
This side of the moon

Pan up to the sky
Where the clouds
Are rozes and orange blossoms
And the perfume from the sky
Is fresh air on the breeze
The ocean spray
Makes lips
Salty and sweet
And the wind
Blows hair back
he sun go down

I wonder what the full moon brings 

Wednesday, July 9, 2014

let your soul lead

all these people
feeling all these things
and the world
becomes alive
with voices
high and low
happy and sad
all around the town
voices of people
and the ghosts that follow them
begin to speak

they say follow your dreams
follow your heart
follow the steps
let your soul lead

all the rivers flow to the sea
and all your life flows
towards your dreams
feeling these small waves
push me forward
with winds high
and winds low
all the way down the current
a silver skipper
a golden slipper
the flowers in the reflection
the waves begin to push

they say follow your dreams
follow your heart
follow your steps
let your soul lead

the soul pulls you from the depths
wraps you in your blanket
the one you had as a child
and tries to wash all the waves
and the ocean looks
farther away than ever before
you’ll have to do it on foot
silver skipper tarnished
silver slipper
rogue and warn
and the trees sway and say

follow your dreams
follow your heart
follow your steps
let your soul lead

let your soul lead 

Sunday, July 6, 2014

The Hurricane

The storm has ended

The boats at sea
Bouncing in the night
Stars and moon their hidden guides
The windows let me see out
Kept me dry inside

The biggest universe
In the world
Like the storm
Pushes me forward
Tries to balance my dreams
With my basic needs

The last of the winds scream
I fall on the deck
And rest with the
Whiskers of the fish
Counted like lucky pennies

But with no value for the future

Thursday, July 3, 2014

light and darkness play

not my pic
now I fall into focus
tumble to the spot
that writes deep
inside the mind
places where
light and darkness play

i fall into focus
down the hill
to the river
find the rain
deep in the current
of ideas and feelings

i focus
on the desert of sight
i climb out of a mirage
of muses to find the
sand, left over
thoughts, of the mind

Wednesday, July 2, 2014

Self Tutor

Yesterday I decided to try to write a song with the poem below. I was singing it as I wrote it so I thought I’d put it to music.

While I was doing that (I only have the first line done so far and who knows how many more times I’ll re write it) But I took my camera, which records really nice video, and recorded me singing.

I used to do this in high school, record my lessons on tape and play them over and over, but this is the first time I’ve used it as a self tutoring tool.

I only recorded it because my ego told me how awesome I’d be. So I recorded the whole song and when I played it back... well the first two verses... I was amazed at how awful most of it sounded. It’s bad enough that most people, minus say Mariah Carey, don’t like their voices, but mine sounded awful.

I had two choices. I could call Barb the singing teacher (which is how she answers the phone when she calls) and say I’m never singing again, its hopeless, oh what a world, or I could... wince, listen to it again.

I listened to it again and this time I pointed out to myself all that Barb had pointed out two nights before. I was making the same mistakes, over and over, but couldn’t hear it inside my head. When I recorded it I could fix it.

SO I corrected some of it, some of it my voice just needs more practice to strengthen it, and it sounded better as you can hear there are still some mistakes. After all she had already coached me to do it right. And for the first time I could hear the difference when it worked.

I feel bad that she had to keep coaching me the past couple weeks to do the same thing and hear the same mistakes.

Big steps but still a long way to go

Tuesday, July 1, 2014


For this moment
Is a moment to be blessed
Times to feel alive
Deep within your heart

Lay down on the summers grass
And look up to the blue blue sky
There’s little yellow bird
There's a cloud so high

Point out all the simple things
That you let pass by
Take a moment
Don’t ask why

For this moment
Is a moment to be blessed
Time to feel alive
Deep within your heart

Today I took the time to love
Something that broke my heart
That’s something I don’t do
Today I loved you

Point out all the lovely things
That are happening in my life
Ad when the going gets tough

I water the garden that is my heart

Saturday, June 28, 2014

Writing Work Shop Inspired by Sabina Berman

That was my favorite sound from that time on. The sound of cut glass crystal smashing against a window. The power that that was behind the crack and the landing of a million sharp pieces. The way I said no to the turn of my husband. Said no to another compromise, because that’s what love says to do and decided to do something for myself.

I ran feral on the beach for two months flew to the California coast and got an agent and auditioned for movies next to movie stars and had people laugh at my attempts. I stayed in a little dive in a corner of the city and smoked a joint with other people who had struggled many years, had my own university of screen writers actors and sadness on the balcony of the old hotel.  

In the morning I would wake up in a dirty tank top an pj pants that had sheep and goats on them in Pepto-Bismol pink and ran along the beach, sometimes people would join me, sometime it would just be me throwing shells back into the ocean. Eating greasy fried eggs at the tavern down the street and calling my husband and crying because it wasn’t near as glamorous as Taylor swift makes it out be.
I never did make it to Hollywood Boulevard, i guess there wasn’t time.

Oh I had done my share of acting, but no one wanted to see me in a movie. No one wanted to take my hand across the beach, there were no family pets to throw sticks to and fetch, the sticks just sat out in the ocean and floated away out of eyesight, although I swear that there one that washed up against the beach every night and I throw it out to the sea every morning.

Then one day when I’m out on the private beach with pop and beer cans I hear a sound behind me, and it’s my husband and he holds me in m arms while I cry and I tell him I can’t do this, this was my dream and I can’t do it. And he took my hand and led me up to the room opened the door and said “Get what you need. I’m taking you home.”

My dreams had changed from that 19 year old girl in university and I had to be k with that but I had a chance to try it one more time.

That summer a big movie came to my small town, the director recognized me and put me in a little role of a country secretary and “you know who,” walked right past me a few times in the scene. I had made it.

Thursday, June 26, 2014


A tattoo isn’t something
I want wrapped
Around my arms
I have enough scars
From memories
I don’t want
Storied on my skin

Scars like ropes and strings
Rushing and pulling
Being knit like sweaters
By the heart

I don’t have tattoos
But man I’ve got scars
 A slice of a smile
A wound of a touch
And you want me to say hello

Feelings from fellows
Who walk away
A sadness of the simplicity
That comes to most people

A turn of the head
A wink of the eye
A smile and shadow
And oh so many tears

I lost my way
Deep in the scars
In another tattoo
Across the heart

Tattoos like the last poem
I painted in heart beats
We always dwell
On the paintings
On our skin

Take a moment and breath
For the people I let touch
My life and you can’t see them
On my skin