t h e_p o e t r y

October 2, 2020


In the stillness
That place in which
Your beingness abides
Where authenticity is accessed
and your voice rings clear in your
own ears.
Here you can readily
catch the tail
of your own true thoughts
as they dance across
the universe of ideas

September 26, 2020


a swelling inside
barometric pressures shifting
and nerve endings
stand to attention
headaches and heartaches
and womb aches
and the desire to dance
and surpass myself
all in the same moment.
Morning is holding on
to night dark longer
than last week

December 2, 2019

calling all sinners

I am often asked
If I believe in God…
It feels like
An unfair question
Anything about
Or about beliefs
As mine have so often
Needed to
To accommodate
New information
New ideas
And new ways of

December 2, 2019

coyote doctrine

Coyote speaks
in the darkness
at a distance
in the forest
as the mist
makes the air
Your soprano
swells and resonates
through the air
warbled and elongated

September 13, 2018

unwritten, unbound

Maybe this is a moment
where poetry fails
to communicate
the extent to which
you matter.
But I want to
at least try
and convince you of
the possibilities
that are just beyond
the horizon.
The birds will tell you
up there in the sky
what they have seen.

September 13, 2018

the welling up

The welling up
Eyes become portals
Of wordless emotion
This is all
So beautiful
The only right thing
Right now
Is to cry
As warm
Sticky caramel
Ravishes the
Sexy green
Of summer leaves
Red haze through

September 13, 2018

the divide between us

I’m not always sure what to do
with my anger.
When the divide between us
is so deep and wide
it feels as if we occupy
completely separate Earths.
But we do not.
We are both here.
Closed system.
Not escaping each other
any time soon.
And I know that we are

August 16, 2018

outside, uncovered

I suppose I have
always loved
watching the rain through
big picture windows
for there is
a preciousness
to being here human,
If outside, uncovered
I would be
far too overcome

May 30, 2018

may day

All this rain.
The colours blur together.
Feeling nondistinct.
It hurts the One inside
who craves big bright beauty.
Waiting for the clouds to lift.
For a clear canvas.
For dinstinctiveness.
All that newborn green
calling out for light.

March 30, 2018

collapsed house

I dreamt I was
a collapsed
entire parts of me
caved in
scattered as rubble
and reeking
of rain-soaked ruin
peering out through
the old
and weatherworn floorboards

March 24, 2018

simplicity ~ gratitude ~ humility

stifling paradoxes
that eliminate
our ability to be
self righteous
that wisely smile
and pat our hands
like grandmothers
saying ‘There, there…

March 24, 2018


We might feel slightly…
maybe even 
mentioning the word
Winter’s timeshare is not used up
The changing of the guard 
the calendar has not yet
But I can see Her lightbody

March 24, 2018

this forest

This forest
A library of green
I lean on a tree
That speaks in water droplets
From the top
Good morning air
Handshaking my lungs
Renewing my blood
I am sustained.
Underneath me roots
Holding this all together.

March 24, 2018

electric correspondence

you come to me
an old friend
a good friend,
I open the door
and you rush in
eager and
whispering stories
of all that 
ever was
cold acquaintance

March 23, 2018

I Was Burned by a Star

I went to meditate
on a perfect morning
on a perfect island
when birds were singing and the air was cool.
I sat on the edge
feeling brave, feeling sure
that this was a place for meeting the ‘everythingness’
for knowing myself
for receiving answers

March 23, 2018

fat girl does yoga, and other crazy shit

‘Deep breath in. Hands to heart centre.’

Coming to the
edge of my mat
feels like
coming to the edge of
The surge of
an ocean
a stirring of the water
beyond this
terrifying edge
within me.

‘Come into Downward Dog.’

Hands and legs planted
on the ground.
my palms are sweaty
slipping slowly down
the line of pressure and tension
from my body weight
making it harder to
hold myself up,
I should have bought the f-ing
Jade mat.

‘Now move into plank position and hold…’

I can feel the weight
of my gut
hanging down underneath me
like a mudslide
blocking ...

October 19, 2017

I being so near

The storm has passed
through me.
I being
so near the ocean
am subject to feeling
the heavy body
of dark water
memories of
the whole
bewildered Earth
sunken in

I being
so near the river
am subject to
the comfortable shores
of my diseases
turbidity of thought
carried away
no capacity
no resistance.

I being
so near the forest
am subject to
darkness and inquest
secret burials and
dislocated bones
the shadowy clues
of what happened
(I don’t remember…)

I being
so near the edge
of myself
am subject to
vertigo and
angry outbursts
haphazardly aimed
at ...

October 12, 2017

she leapt

The spider drops
from point to point
partnering with air
each string a
a foundation
through repeated
free falls
to build her
tiny bridges
of return
from here to there
a jumble of silk
random and chaotic
becomes a brilliant
most courageously laid
risks taken
reveal themselves
to be
indispensable pathways
of unfolding
and she,
through careful weaving,
joins every line of silk
every choice she made
into the
hard-won substance
of her masterpiece.

She leapt
(again and again
and again)
and the net


October 5, 2017

half mast

my flag is always flying
at half mast
Don’t draw me up
until the world
is right
and whole.
Don’t draw me up
until the wind blows
Don’t draw me up
until death
is only beautiful
Don’t draw me up.
I am down here

September 26, 2017

chain. links.

her small hands
moving across
the chain links
an instrument
co-located to
a wizened crow
perched passively
sensing together
the sharp cold
of dry woven metal
peeking through
a hundred windows
of encounter into
other eyes
meeting and knowing
the diaspora of being
the Oneness
of strangers.