Two Steps Forward


Two steps forward,
one step back.
The cracks I was warned not to step on
opened wide and plunged me in
pirouetting like a silk stocking twister.
The rule book is out of date and the maps 
are wrong
and I am not authorized to be in this arena.
Two steps forward,
 one step back.
Can you teach me the dance of the seven veils?
Even if my feet are shackled and clumsy with knockoff shame
without label
without name
but fully present 
and convinced of their rights.
Two steps.
One step.
Being still and letting the parade pass by…
The animals are untamed 
sniffing the wind for fear and my heart crouches low
in wispy grass not meant for concealment
but it’s all I can find
like a rock climbers gotobethere hold.
Two steps back,
three steps back,
how far can I go before I meet myself again?


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Secrets, Code Words, Ned Stark Memes and other exciting things…..

brace yourselves

Can you keep a secret? This just between you and me…..

Here is a hint;

If April showers bring May flowers – then what do May flowers bring?




One new book in particular with artwork by an incredibly talented artist and poetry by an incredibly errr… well, maybe just a moderately…..ummmm ……by a tenacious poet.             Who is a very nice person. And kind to animals.

Really. Well…..she tries hard…and that counts. 

Anyway….Watch This Space!

the world awaits


***may***may*** may***may***may***may***may*** may***may***may***may***

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A Stand


About a year ago….

Originally posted on Chimera Poetry:

queen_vashti by_jazmocamp

I thought taking a stand was more difficult, more defined
it sounded like a complex strategy
like something I needed to do research in
to have lessons, talents, tools
I thought you had to be loud and confident and erudite and know how to back things up with impressive lists of facts and figures
I thought you needed to have self defense moves and think fast and always always always know the answers
I thought you needed to be strong and move strong and feel strong and
not cry when someone hurt you
never fumble
never fear
for a long lifetime I took no stand
I took blame
the fall
the high ground
for granted
took some steps back
took a lot of guilt, heaped it high on my plate convincing myself that to choke it down one more time wouldn’t kill me
then, unknowingly, took some other small…

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I Look


I look for you in clouds and in window reflections wavering back at me.           I look for you in stories of love and sacrifice 
and on book covers
and in songs and in weeping cello notes hanging in the air.
I look for you in the quiet spells
and I look around in the tumult and highpitched buzzing of a crowd.
I look for you in nightmares and tremble each morning,
 troubled and shaken that my waking visions are so much worse.
If I reached for you and touched another would the wanting change us all?
Would we be linked and enhanced or would it pare a bit 
exposing us 
like lemon peels
letting them fall to the floor 
curling and hardening in a small, defiant plume of scent…
Could I accommodate this new connection,
could I make a nautilus of my heart and order the chambers with the time I spend longing
so that they are swept and polished and ready for occupancy?
Ready for the moment
when I look for you…
and I look
and you, 
or someone very like you,
are there.
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It’s Only Words: On trolls, free speech, and the last few days.


Before you read this I should clarify that I am not back on my Twitter account. My blog and Instagram accounts both automatically link to it and publish new posts, so this may publish on my account but I am not going to access it to delete it, because I have deleted the app and do not want to go into my account, and apologise for any confusion.

Dear readers,

I have always tried to strike a balance between keeping you all updated with any major twists and turns in my frankly unusual life, without bombarding you with so much extraneous detail that the recipes get buried beneath an amateur imitation of a weekly glossy magazine. So, while there may not be red screaming circles of shame around my dark baggy eyes or shock horror headlines at being caught without any makeup on, I do feel I owe it to…

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Eulogy to Poetry

Originally posted on Wuji Seshat:

Screen Shot 04-16-15 at 11.10 PM 001Screen Shot 04-16-15 at 11.10 PM

Eulogy to Poetry

Think in the morning
And poetry has died
What would you say to her?
First language and eldest daughter
I saw you in grains of sand

Your love trapped in wild flowers
I set the seas to your lips
And burned a thousand dreams
In your skies of velvet pink
I knew you as infinity of evolution

Guiding me to future hours
The trees cried flowers because of you
And the sun made songs of her Spring
You never know love of language
Until language is gone, like Sanskrit

An exuberance of many ways
To the say the same dear familiar things
Which to another generation, might be unknown
That’s poetry, a rare bird going extinct
That’s poetry, a strange magic being replaced

That’s poetry, the kind of book not published
That’s poetry, the kind of soul that can’t be bought.

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Spirit Caller Magazine Vol 03 Issue 01

Thank you to Spirit Caller for adding me to this edition with a list of other very talented artists. (Check out page 7!)


Dangerous insect Media presents:
Spirit Caller Magazine Volume 3, Issue One – April 2015

Featuring poetry, art, and photography by:
Chris Friend, Marilyn Souza, Betty Rocksteady, C.G. Reynolds, Jaye Tomas, Steve Baker, Keith Landrum, David Phelan, Jason Quiggle, and Marvin Scott Marvin.

Spirit Caller Magazine is a free e-zine. Enjoy!



Published April 17, 2015
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