I want to miss my kids
I want to see my hair no crumbs or cheese whiz
I want to enjoy healthy friendships
outings like camping and family things
me plus one for a change
I’m so tired of doing everything on my own
I’m always that single mom who’s alone
no partner, no man, just me,
Here I am
no other family, just a loner.
the judge me like a park perv with a *****
the way they look at me, like they pity me,
It was healthier than living with his violent mistakes
No sorry is good enough
When a man treats you worse than his stuff
Society sees a woman that can’t keep a man
They don’t see a woman strong enough to stand
Alone without allowing the disrespect to go on
Every carnival, every movie, every oil change, every bill I pay
Every flat tire every mile
every family photo a forced smile
the biggest lie ever sold
is too tell a woman she can have it all alone
she’s ripped apart shredded at each end
not knowing where she ends and the kids begin
night from day’
far from child's play
but something like a living nightmare
every lonely not long enough exhausted no rest day
(for Stephen)
There’s a certain point in summer
when it feels like it’ll last forever
a dazed mix of complacency and lethargy
when everything is tired
from the gardens, to the dogs, to our senses.
Satiated perhaps, but it’s something more,
a sense we have arrived at the peak of the peak season,
the fullness of Leo,
in all his solar glory,
and what can top that?
Of course this is about the exact time the nights get cooler,
we notice the peak has passed,
and winter approaches
with all those chores undone.
So is life....
in all its simplicity,
and yet with this endless cycle of seasons
the endless cycle of human ups and downs also churns on,
all the things that
naturally arise in our habitual
dualistic mind.
And this is far more taxing and exhausting
than the external heat and dust and smoke,
exhausting and overwhelming,
at least for me.
So a good friend tells me something today
he probably didn’t make up
but just as easily as anyone could have;
“Everything you need you can get from a single exhalation.”
(Originally published in my 3rd book, Sun Made Flesh and Fiber, 2019)
single teardrops carefully conceded
may signal perplexity
yet engage protection
a single starlight
sparkles through empty branches
on cold winter's eve
Blest birthday blossoms burst out bliss…
…breeding midst life-building best
glows with gracious generosity…
…God-governed that greatly grows
toward triumphant, jubilant, vibrant, radiant, abundant…
…gratitude fueled by praise-altitude upon faith-fortitude---
kindling loving kindness, igniting caring inspiration
as thanksgiving warms friendship and worthy worship
for festive existence of peaceful persistence
signified by a single white rose.
A single white rose
plucked purposefully
from among a brilliant
rose bouquet
he brought to me
as a sign
of his sole love -
so refreshingly unique,
for each vibrant, velvet
pretty petal
showed proof of
passion restrained
as it was love regained
which he sought
from me,
and the loyalty
for which I’d longed
lingered on the
bloom’s perfume -
a fragrance of fidelity
found again in
a single white rose.
A single white rose,
stark against the scar,
left on a plinth—
pale,
pierced,
and pared.
Air drips with heavy dew—
a heady sip,
thick nectar stung by wind,
a bitter elixir on the tongue.
The faint decay of autumn bloom rises.
Petals—
crushed,
capsized on iron.
Ensnared.
Entombed.
Rusting deep in the split stone—
iron teeth gripping the grim root.
Under the rust,
a secret scarlet pulse.
White thorns wake,
weaving through the wreckage.
Wild shoots shatter the cage,
rising—
raw,
radiant,
and reborn.
For deep under the bitter stone,
beneath the winter's heavy blow,
lies the silent, secret seed.
It waits for the solstice's soft sovereign warmth,
to wake,
to break,
and build the bloom anew.
A single white rose
abloom
A single, satin-like, white rose
patiently peeking all alone
above the weathered, wooden fence,
as in its somber silence thinks-
“I've grown, going past the tiptop
of this wood fence and now need find
what final fate decides, defines
pure purpose for my so short stay.”
“Perhaps a lovelorn lad stops by,
a perfect present I may make
to lift his sweetheart, sure to smile,
by binding me, held by her hair.
There, my white petals then can pair
with her smooth cheeks of satin pink-
soon spark the light of love again.
Then my life's feat, fulfilled shall be.
A single white rose stands, swaying in wheezy wind
Got a glimmering glimpse of it in the dewy dawn.
On the carpet of green, as a dreamy dame she swings,
Demure and slightly bent on a magical monsoon day.
A fine flower with petite petals, delicate,
Yet sheltered by sharp stinging thorns that pierce.
Rain drops drip off her vaporous velvety face
As unanticipated tears rush down from one’s eyes.
She is fairer far than anything one can spot
Her petals, so silky and soft, spun by angels of heaven.
Oh, symbol of grace, you rock me in dazzling delight,
And in me a thousand poetic fancies ignite!
A single white rose—
soft-scented
still
slender—
silvered stem
slight sway
as if
silence
spoke
moonlight—
settling
slow
milky
luminous
lingering
along each
smooth swell
petal by petal—
pale hush
pressed
into night’s
open
waiting palm
wind—
wandering in
low
woven
whisper
winter
in its breath
while the world—
wider
waning
wilting
wordless
no crimson
flare
no fierce
fraying
frill
no bright
burning
insistence—
only
soft
steadfast
presence
gathered—
in stillness
one bloom
bare
but brimming
bathed
in blue
breathing hush
breeze—
brush
bend
break away
loosening
its silence—
lingers
slow
settling
softness
velvet
over skin
a vow—
voiceless
yet held
fragile—
fine as frost
faintly lit
never faltering
never folding
no name
no claim
no blame
no bruise
no burden
only—
this
single
white
rose
still
soft
steadfast
I fold my fingers round the silent spine,
feeling the tender threat of invisible teeth.
A subtle needle nips beneath the skin,
drawing a solitary, shining seam of crimson.
That dark droplet slowly drags its weight,
a ruby tear trembling on immaculate ivory.
It bleeds into the delicate, velvet veins,
staining the pale bloom with a quiet, scarlet ache.
Held high against the gathering shade,
surrendering its soft, porcelain secrecy -
a single white rose,
forever marked by the hands that cherished it.
In luminous light tonight, beneath June's jaded moon,
a beautiful bloom stands tall against my garden wall.
So profoundly pure as to lure the pollen seekers
on those golden days when warm rays of the sun
frame its frilled beauty as dawn spills across my lawn.
Bees seize the chance to collect its sweet nectar,
as if it was Heaven sent for the fragrant floral scent
of that single long-stemmed white petaled rose.
But cut that perfect flower, I would never, ever do.
To end the length of its natural life would be a sin,
most deserving of having my hand torn by a thorn
if I dared get too close to harming this ravishing rose.
That innocent flora, that beauteous white rose chose
to grow and glow as an alabaster statue in my flower bed.
No other could possibly prevail over its pallid loveliness
when dew drops cling to her as she's gently caressed
each summer morning by fingers of the wafting wind.
Troubles in life, they stab like a knife, piercing a by-standing soul.
The anger and wrath that’s set on your path gives darkness, and within you behold.
Tears through fear when you’ve lost and your gear hasn’t changed, be meek and be whole.
The fire within that won’t shake, flee, or bend is a start of a spiritual soul.
Fire to forge or destroy in your life. You choose your path and your home.
When evil is present you walk in the desert. No love? Then you move alone.
If you see what you see then why don’t you dig deep? Encourage your spirit to glow.
If your flesh is troubled then your spirit is growing for elevation after the triumph is old.
Make matters meet more miracles. Mending must mutate major molds.
If you go through the fire you will come out refined. Pure in spirit like a single white rose.
She was white wind beneath wings
Intelligent interesting and a trailblazer
Not one thing in life came easily yet
Green eyes surprised wise smiles
Ladylike all the while she persevered
Even during her cherry challenges
We wear a single white rose of remembrance
Hearts hope to honor her
In life despite death’s cruel claws
Turning turquoise tears trials tribulations to
Emerald empathy emotional
Resilience remember December her
Only wish for Christmas to love like a
Saint and receive recognition as a person
Everyone can come to in confidence
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