How to Explain

how to explain feelings that wane
when once they waxed in fiery flames
our breathing ragged gasps untamed
sweating bodies now arid strain
love’s a languid mess entangled
how did it come to be this stain
searching not where to lay the blame
how to explain feelings that wane

Bjorn hosts one last Open Link Night before our winter break.  Please join us in linking any one poem of your choice at dVerse.

A New Revolution

the past revolutions!
Our rhythm heralds
a different way.
Perhaps we won’t
be so peaceful!
We’ll run amok
and churn up
the muck!
Change will
come, Oh Yes!
Starting with
cushy ensconced
in your lifelong
tenure of perks!
Public “servants”?
Your time has come
and you are gone!
The future belongs
to us all now, not
just a select few.
We RAGE at paths
lined in blood!
We are damning the
torpedoes that lay
waste to countless
innocent lives!
Link arms and
put up a united
front to end this
insanity that is
rooted in politics.
It’s a ruse DON’T YOU SEE?
We’re being royally
Nothing is untouched
by the ravages of this
cesspool of corruption.
We’re pulling the plug
and letting the sewage
be absorbed into the
void that it deserves.
Slate clean lies our future.
Lay down your pens
and put aside your
intellect and FEEL
If we lose our hearts
we lose everything.

Victoria is our host at dVerse Open Link Night but couldn’t be with us today because of a family emergency.  Our hearts go out to her.

Florida’s Fall

Just yesterday the geckos were
still hunting their night prey
under the illumination of the
porch light along the front
of the house. Before they can
shy away, I catch sight of them
flattened against the upper wall
high above the red, front door.

Just yesterday, I spied two toads
as I cleared away some weeds and
brush from plantings out front.

Just yesterday there were bees
buzzing around a small crop
of wildflowers that had bloomed
and formed an oasis of color
without any seeding from me.

Just yesterday a small mouse was
caught on the bird feeder;
determined, he stayed put as I
slowly approached. We eyeballed
each other until his nerves folded
and he scampered up and away
through the boughs of the ligustrum.

Just yesterday the roses were in full
blossom, red, pink, nearly white and
yellow stretching their thorny branches
against the wall and up the arbors that
help support their lanky, heavily
budded limbs.

Just yesterday, the bushy-tailed,
elusive fox was spotted fishing a frog
from the overflowed ditch that runs
behind all the houses. He paused long
enough that I could watch for a few short
minutes and then he vanished under cover
into the wooded, overgrown lot next door.

Just yesterday I came across the black
racer, moving quickly across my path,
eager to hide and disappear into the
wide hedge that lines the sidewalk.

Just yesterday the Mockingbird couple
chattered back and forth until one took
up its singing and the other chimed in
with quick chirps of admiration.

Just yesterday the humidity was at almost
saturation point, it might as well have been
rain that dampened my skin and frizzed my
hair. The afternoon thunderstorm cooled
the temperature but only added to the
heaviness of the air, the only relief–indoors.

But today the humidity has dropped and there’s
a slight chill during the early morning hours.
The sunlight has dimmed slightly and its heat
isn’t as fierce as it has been for several months.
There’s an almost imperceptible change afoot
perhaps only noticed by those who have
lived in these parts for decades…yes, fall has
arrived, I’m sure of it.

Join me at dVerse Poets Pub for Open Link Night.  Choose any one poem that you would like to share.

Mujo; a Haibun


Moonflowers by Nampu Katayama; Bing Images

These days my heart is aflutter and excitement is coursing through my every cell it seems. I feel almost electric and distracted at times too.  There is a strong memory of these feelings from my past and yet in a way I’m more in control of my faculties than I was before.  Perhaps it’s because I realize the impermanence of relationships.  No-thing lasts forever but I’m ready to take advantage of what has presented itself and to see where it goes and I along with it for however long it lasts…and enjoy the journey.

summer’s moon flower
wilts as the days grow shorter
refreshing breeze stirs

Toni is our host for Haibun Monday at dVerse Poets.  Join us as we explore this Japanese form and write on change or impermanence.

Mira Jaya Ji

20150729_164754_resized (1)

Photo by Gayle Walters Rose:  Mira Jaya Rose-Hutner

Who would have thought
with one child’s birth
such transformation
within my heart.
No hesitation
on my part
to uproot my life
and join your side.
Witnessing your
change and growth
has brought great
expansion of my own.
A guru in an infant’s
form has shone
the light where
it had dimmed.

You’ve bowed to me
and touched my feet.
With common ground
we’ve made a link.

I pay attention
to what you teach,
no matter if
you’re only three.  

Now delight
is often near,
your joyous smile
brings sweet cheer.

These last few years
I won’t forget,
your entrance here
made my top-ten list.

Toni, aka Kanzen Sakura, asks us to offer something up along the lines of change over at dVerse Poets:

The amazing story of how Diablo became Spirit

Posted on YouTube by Arjan Postma

In The Beginning

In the beginning there was the word
and the word was good. It tickled
and played with my imagination and
more of them strung together
and became cohesive…hey, I’m a poet!
Those poems seemed to flow pretty
easily in those heady, early days.
My angst, humor, pain and spirituality
flowed from brain to pen in seeming
effortlessness; I had so much to share.
The energy of other poets spurred me on
and I shared and read and wept and laughed
and joined together, took some space
time to breathe, grew and changed.
Came back, still changing, sorting my thoughts
and those words are taking on new patterns, new
feelings, new growth…new friends have appeared.
It’s give and take…you gotta give!  Encourage others
as they encourage you and give of their time to
help you evolve, develop, become and change again.
Transmutable…a poet is just like life.

Anthony Desmond is our host at dVerse Poets tonight and asks us to write on our evolution as writers. I haven’t had a very long career of writing…less than three years but I have learned so much during this short period of time and continue to grow and learn with much of that knowledge coming from prompts through dVerse…thank you!

Updated (After 50 Years)

Vintage, primary colored mixing bowls
mingle with a new, stoneware, pie plate,
joining the aluminum one you’ve used for years.
So old it can’t come clean…the zig-zagged
edges melded with oils, crusts and fillings.
Ancient, the cast-iron skillet’s siding
is also bonded with whatever was
cooking that spilled over and never quite
got cleaned all the way. Decades of this,
repeating itself, lends a crusted exterior.
Still, it’s in good use…nothing sticks,
cornbread cooks to perfection.
It could last 50 more years, easy.
The plates, silverware and serving
dishes aren’t new…bought
after the last of we kids left home
to begin our own accumulations.
Our childhood dinnerware was left
shattered, cracked, pieces missing,
by six, unruly kids showing no respect.
There’s a mixture of new utensils
jumbled with the still-serviceable 50+ years
old whisk, ladle and wooden spoons, etc.
The kitchen was updated by your contractor
son recently who brought the linoleum floor, and
Formica countertops into the 21st century
with granite and stone. Too, the bathroom
was made more spacious and nicely
appointed with new everything.
Only the layout looks the same of the
house where we grew up…even the driveway
is elegant pavers that complement the house paint.
You’re alone there now with your new carpet, new
bedspread, new curtains and a guest room…waiting
for one of us to come visit and keep you company.

Joseph Hesch is our host at Open Link Night on dVerse Poets:


Always choices
to be made,
left or right,
around or stay.
Can’t avoid,
can’t make
a mistake.
The ones
we choose
will bring us change.

At dVerse Poets today, Claudia inspires us to think upon changes and turns in our lives:

Dear friends…

Picture:  Google Images

I may be a bit scarce for a while as I’m in the process of moving.  I’m packing up and heading to Sebastian where my two daughters, and now, new baby granddaughter, Mira lives.  When my daughter and her husband return to work, I’ll be caring for Mira.  I’m really looking forward to this new chapter in my life and creating a loving relationship between Mira and I.

And look forward to getting back into the swing of posting and visiting all of you as soon as I’m settled.

Wish me well!



Sunlit Breeze

Heat builds throughout the morn
becoming a sunlit breeze
weaving the willow branches
Clouds connect
deepening their gray
blown out over the gulf
Hours pass altering the day
shadows darken
beneath the mulberry tree
Humidity dampens the afternoon
mockingbird sings the blues
accentuating the heat index
Sticky stillness
begs for respite
from summer’s captivity
Evening dawns
a contented sigh
it too born of the day

Photo:  Google Images; Mockingbird

Gay Reiser Cannon explains the triversen form and what constitutes modern poetry over at dVerse Poets for today’s FormForAll:


English: Sudden Insight

Image via Wikipedia

                                Photo:  Sudden Insight by Stephen Slade Tien

Insight is imparted
with a blinding flash.

My mind reels with
a new consciousness.

The world looks different
but what has transformed?

Only my discernment
has changed the view.


Piano Keys warm

Image via Wikipedia

Rhythmic urgings
would emerge as I
watched your sensitive
fingers flicker effortlessly
over the keys of the piano.
Just the fact that you  

were so agile and adept
and the ease of which it
flowed, made my heart
ignite, the same way
you lit the instrument.

Your guitar playing
was an equal source of
feelings.  At times tears
would pool in my eyes
as you played ragas of
ancient India, the run of
notes flying through the
air as they took flight
from the strings.  The
tempo transmuting my
breath to sospirando

Equally blessed on
the harmonium and
tablas, you quickly
became skilled at
accompanying kirtan
with either instrument.
Each played with great
expertise by your vast
background of musical
knowledge and innate
sense of scale and meter.

Those were days of
love, romance and seeing
the beauty that was you. 

Alas, muta!

Write2Day–Music and the Written Word:

It’s Over

In those early, giddy
days, our relationship
was exciting, colorful
and sparkling,
to say the least. But
it felt inevitable to me
that it would end. 

It seems when a
relationship starts
off with such deep
infatuation and
feelings of fancy
that it simply doesn’t
last through the
long haul. 

The hints and
suggestions were
apparent to me
that things were
cooling off and
I’ve never been one
to hang on when
it’s over.  I’m very
practical in that way.

I could see the
droop in your
seemed to be
wilting under pressure
right before my eyes.
And I must admit,
I didn’t have the
same feelings for
you after awhile either.

It’s time to say our
goodbyes.  No hard
feelings, okay?
It was a joy while it
lasted and I will
always remember
you with pleasure
and the fondest of

Honey!  Can you
take the Christmas
tree out to the curb
this afternoon?!


The Poetry Palace; Thursday’s Poet’s Rally Week # 59:

Blessings pouring forth
The Perfect Poet’s Award
A happy surprise

I nominate:  Half Way Between The Gutter


Deep corridors have been
furrowed into this shell
by life’s formidable quest.

Documented and recorded in detail,
nothing has escaped inscription
onto and within this body.

What once was supple, flexible,
smooth and soft has taken
on a stiffened, uncompromising
distinction.  Boundless, joyous youth
has incrementally given way to
become a myopic form that growls
and whimpers its way toward
its winter days.  Its voice raises
in absorbed weariness, as it
grouses and protests its inability
to move with the same grace, and
rebound from hardship as
it once was able. 

But let it complain.
I’m still in residence and
will continue the passage
and honor it as I can for
allowing me this homestead,
this temporary space to
grow and broaden my spirit.

Join Victoria C. Slotto, our hostess tonight, at dVerse Poets; Meeting the Bar–Contrast:

Flash Fiction 140

Five flash fiction stories of 140 total characters using the words:  “exposure”, “punch”, “clothes”, “advantage” and “change”:

Capsized five days prior, a bottle of water keeps him living; exposure will soon win.  He hallucinates a tropical isle; people on the beach.

Punching his chest hard, she blows into his open mouth and continues compressing his chest and blowing–relentless, she knows aid is coming.

As she hangs clothes on the lines outdoors, a dark, shadow dives overhead.  The hawk is back, searching for its next meal at the birdfeeder.

Meditation brings clarity, focus and calm to my life.  It may not bring less trials to face but the way I handle them is of great advantage.

The transformation in her appearance was astonishing but even more so was the change in her personality.  She was now free to live and love.

It’s History

Where I grew up decades ago
My town felt small and intimate
A couple miles drive and country was found
Small roads lead us here and there

 We all felt safe
With unlocked doors and cars
We knew all our neighbors
And felt secure playing outdoors

 But time brought change
And an interstate came
Thereafter Disney and Epcot arrived
Industries and housing needed to spread

 Orange groves died out
Land more valuable to sell
No more orange blossom’s fragrance
Carried on the night air

 Hometown businesses gave way to malls
Big corporations took over the small
Fast food was born
This began more speeding up

 Technology accelerated
Rotary led to touch
Cell phones came next down the line
Now computers and iPads save us more time

 Children stay inside
If outside must be watched
But they’d rather play computer games
Than a game of catch

 Society’s in a hurry
All jostling to be first
Shouting with rage
If you dare drive too slow

 Times have changed
I’m not sure for the best
The laid-back days of yesteryear
Are sorely missed–they’re history now

My entry for Poetry Potluck 47:  History and Stories

Energy Pulsing

Energy pulsing around throughout,

Pushing, pulling, in and out,

Never ending, with no start

The world around us hums along.

High-pitched frenzy

Low-pitch mellow,

Everything is moving

But we can’t always tell.

Vibration’s frequency

Comes slow or fast

Letting matter

Sustain its mass.

Continuous movement

It never dies,

Only changes

Its creative formation.

Constant Change

Shadows dappled across the door’s screen as I gazed outside
to watch a scene play out that’s in constant motion.
The hibiscus, delphinium and charming-faced pansy all
have an extra bud or two and the Mandevilla vine has
twined in-and-out around the trellis, filling in its empty spaces.
There against the base of the tall, sturdy pine, lies a
pile of needles not there when last checked–
discarding the old to patiently wait for spring’s new.
The old oak  has a squirrel attached to its bark,
hanging upside down by his toes, perusing the yard.
I catch the swift flight of the tiny Palm Warbler
as he vanishes within the branches of the fuchsia-hued Crepe Myrtle.
The orange and black Monarch, that routinely visits, is nuzzling about
in the prickly-stemmed lantana, replenishing his nectar.
I spy a lone bumble bee, heavily hovering among the declining
sunflowers picking up pollen along his erratic, solo journey.
It’s late in the day and the sunlight is waning, so I
wait for the cardinals to make their appearance–
they always fly in late to visit the feeder.
There’s a slight chill in the air as this evening approaches,
so more changes will be arriving.  The toads will find haven
under the deep-mulched leaves, while lizards will hitchhike
aboard when I bring the potted plants inside.
It’s the way of nature;  it’s always in motion, change is
inevitable–the only permanence we can count on.

My entry for Monday’s Poetry Potluck Week 12

the zen space

a space for zen words

The Lonely Recluse

Poetry and Prose

Musings of a Wanderer

Love Travel Meditate

Charmed Chaos

Musings on Life, Love, and Linguine-Poetry & Writing

Bodhirose's Blog

Most of my writings will be true-life experiences. We'll see what else shows up...


Words and Pictures from The Isle of Wight

writing in north norfolk

Writer of children's literature, short stories and poetry

Lady Nyo's Weblog

A woman writer's blog with invitations to other writers

Poetry Breakfast

Serving a little poetic nourishment every morning. Start your day with our new expanded menu. Poems, of course, are our specialty. But we will also be serving a fuller menu that includes poetry book reviews to feed poets' and poetry lovers' souls.

Mithai Mumblezz

Thinks and again mumbles!!


Thinking, writing, thinking about writing...


"We're all out there, somewhere, waiting to happen."


Nature needs Nurture

Whimsygizmo's Blog

poetic ponderings...parenting...procrastination...

Tao of Scrumble

A freeform way of life, love and everything

Tournesol dans un Jardin

Micropoetry ~ Waka ~ Flash Fiction

Sharp Little Pencil

Amy Barlow Liberatore... stories of lost years, wild times, mental variety, faith, and lots of jazz


A Silent poet shouting to be heard


Romance of Five Clouds and Magical Poetry

kanzen sakura

South meets East: Poetry and Musings - words of the seasons

Poems, stories, paintings and more by Sharmishtha Basu

(Agnijaat, Agnishatdal, Agnijashatadalama, Indie Adda)

This, that and the other thing

Looking at life through photography and words

jaywalking the moon

poetry by claudia schoenfeld

She's Writing

Poetry and Prose

Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple

Growing older is inevitable. Growing up is optional.

everyday amazing

spreading good cheer, fun & love for life

Michael's Lair

Just Write site

Björn Rudbergs writings

Poetry and fiction by a physicist from the dark side

The Blog

The latest news on and the WordPress community.

The BeZine

Be inspired...Be creative...Be peace...Be

bardessdmdenton - author- artist

Historical and Literary Fiction / Essays / Poetry / Reviews /Book Cover and Interior Illustrations / Pet Portraits and Other Commissioned Artwork ... "Life can't ever really defeat a writer who is in love with writing, for life itself is a writer's lover until death - fascinating, cruel, lavish, warm, cold, treacherous, constant." ~ Edna Ferber, 1885-1968, American novelist, short story writer and playwright

Soul Dipper

Spirit Builder by Design

Michael S Marsters

The official blog. Copyright 2007-2021. All rights reserved.

Ramblings From A Mum

This is my journey, my thoughts, my views, plain and simple and from my heart. Please travel with me and share, hopefully it will be an interesting trip.


copyright 2013 - no reuse without permission ( see for fiction and fantasy )

"On Dragonfly Wings with Buttercup Tea"

All Is One With Our Creator


Take Control of Your Health

The Daily Post

The Art and Craft of Blogging


Mumblings of a Middle Aged Madwoman


if I go around more than once then ...

I Rhyme Without Reason

I live in words

Soul Speak

'You may say I'm a Dreamer, but I'm not the only one' ~ John Lennon

~ Dragon's Dreams ~

Carpe Noctem Quod Tempus Fugit!

Dreamwalker's Sanctuary

A Sanctuary for Enlightenment and Peace through Poetry and Inspirational Thoughts as we go through Life


laughing at the malfunction of the universe is better than crying about it

Olivia's In- Mind Whirls..

"It's all in my mind"

%d bloggers like this: