Category: Living on Purpose

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Pathfinder

A crowded smile in the middle of the street. Waiting for someone to come pat me on the neck and get that blood flowing. Faucets of lifedrenching the crosswalk and not a soul crossing—Lost and found on a Sunday morning. What a time to remember being born, to taste the earthinessof wilting sunshine between low coastal fog. Do the leaves always scatter so, tossed like halloween candy from an … Read More Pathfinder

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Raw Materials

Every tree in the orchard dangles ripely, unjustly dripping luscious fruit the size of four hands. The imposter sits, supremely still, in the midst of it all and gazes upon the garden scene. The kale is full to overflowing; the carrots are digging a well for themselves; the rabbits have compounded labor for a new wire fence and the imposter gazes down at her hands. These hands? Only two hands. What’s the … Read More Raw Materials

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Voyages of a Footfall

Voyages of a footfall in late November in the woods west of Kansas City. Boot treadthe color of faded apple dust, scenting like a coon hound the wizened mushroom stumps of a wild summer. I’m not quite surewhere I am, until I reach the pond — then my black gloved hands gently nursea calm hello to the bark of the dogwoods that line the scummy lagoon like sentries. In the … Read More Voyages of a Footfall

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The Idea of Order

Here I am, an old woman in the hooded doorway of a young woman’s life the twist of my hand like a spent willow from a distance a sapling unbentthe nature of the willow. I have lost objectivism. Why should I keep it? What good has my rooting in the ashes donebut smear the blackened ink against the window-pane like an early frost. My doorway is wide. I can see the … Read More The Idea of Order

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Plot Against the Giant

The willow won’t swaythe sage won’t scent the goldfinch won’t nest  the life vest will not inflate the eyes won’t widen the sun won’t care the ink won’t flow the war-lords will not congregatethe clouds won’t lift the swans shall stay put endlessly the sea to be a never-ending barren witlessness& the darkness never felt  The tongue is a dream.Nothings happens unless first a dream. 

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Stella in the Starlight

Stella sticks her toes in the grass and she don’t knowthe impact — the moonlight bending on the bowingblades of grass, casting long shadows like tracks. I follow her, relaxed Stella don’t know her own impact. 

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Tandem

I seek solace in the company of cafe tablesand black aprons. Hair that sways, liquidly, under a rotating fan. I write in the companyof strangers, in order to be myself. As if I could hear the words from their lips instead of feel the conversation like a forest. As if it could not matter when the forest was on fireor still, peaceful in dew dreams under a rising … Read More Tandem

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On Judging a Poetry Contest

One finger tapping against an illusive white ceramic cuppa something—you don’t know—I’m a mystery, I’m the poetry editor. Illustrious task, these scribbleslaid bare to me, laid out like coffee spilled silent on the plate. Not too late to duck down into hiding, find a proper bunker. Fortunately good poetry chooses me, not I and I know in my heart

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Attempting to Make a Point

Poetry — what an objectively disagreed upon reality, filled to overflow  with such things like fringe combs  and metallic tea jugs. Best now to bring it to a boil, to set on  the balcony railing and let seep 

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Kaimana

With fistfuls of ocean, I scrubthe soles of my feet— exhausting flakes for the fish food watching the waves lose pieces in a fist fight with the breeze. I got a whole lotta sand to figure things out. The sun will wait for me patiently kissing umbrella cloudstil my blue towel be set near that low wall. Not for the first time do I wonder how long this will last.  Harnessing light from … Read More Kaimana

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On the Will to Move

Better to be an amateur. Better to gather knowledge like a drink from the river on a hot day, fistfuls of books and essays on life itself. Better to equip myself with “permission to continue”. I stand near my kitchen window in Oahu, listening to zebra doves on the telephone wires outside cooing to each other in the midmorning breeze. The mountain trade winds … Read More On the Will to Move

Announcement!

Available in paperback and e-book, Articulated Soul is a collection of 50 poems in five categories (Kansas, Austria, Indonesia, New Zealand, and Hawaii). These poems catalogue the many fragrant emotions of living abroad on one’s own, the sites and smells, the insecurities. Supplementing the angst are 25 original collages, expanding the metaphor of influence and creativity. Grateful acknowledgment is made to the editors and … Read More Announcement!