Amorosa Zúñiga’s Zippy Adventure
A Little Bird told Amorosa about a bonanza in a banana republic.
Before you could say Jack Robinson,
Amorosa was in the catbird seat.
A Little Bird clamped onto Amorosa’s travel cape,
and they flew to a cloudy colony,
crashing close to the Cayman Islands.
She was a dark horse among desperados
desiring diamonds and emeralds.
They dished the dirt [...]
It’s a jungle out there
I turn right on Matchtown
Street, it’s a dark blur–
cars and accidents abound.
I turn right on Matchtown,
an illegal move, cops on the prowl
bear down on me, emperors
of Matchtown,
where it’s all a blur.
~
3WW: match, blur, illegal
I’m writing this post on Wednesday, but date-stamping it for Tuesday. Hee hee!
My MIL just left after a twelve day visit. Need I say more?
I’ve agreed with a blogging friend to send out at least five poems a month, to both print and online publishers. Whoopee!
My son just graduated from high school. The last month [...]
In the Book of Good Love
In the Book of Good Love
it is written:
Each summer when clay cracks
Water Girl rises from the cenote.
She rises from the cenote
with Flying Fish on her shoulder,
a flying fish who swims
her to the surface–
fresh water cradled in granite,
water bubbling from underground rivers.
Each summer Water Girl rises,
people come to greet her:
a barren [...]
Born again and again
Wherever I drive
there’s mud in the road.
Coffee-colored sludge
streaked with tire tracks.
Water has puddled
in the muck-lined grooves,
its glassy surface reflecting
an invisible sun.
At each crossroad I find a congealed mess,
yet I forge ahead. A delayed decision
might suck me in,
but plowing forward
could also pull me down.
Too much to think about.
I put the car in second [...]
Today’s Confession Tuesday with our favorite witch, The Polka Dot Witch. Here’s what’s on my mind:
Since my last name is on my blog I hold back from a lot of true confessions. Repecting my family’s privacy and all that.
My mother-in-law is visiting, so my time for blogging and writing has shriveled to a mere hour [...]
Stir it up
I used to like mushrooms
mixed with mocha ice cream,
when a rosy glow would bloom.
I used to like mushrooms–
the yummy blend would zoom
me to a stained-glass astral dream.
I used to like mushrooms
mixed with mocha ice cream.
Poefusion, Monday Mural
Child,
let me cup your face
in my hands
to sound your eyes
let me say the words
an injured fawn
needs to hear
let me tell you
there is a lily
in bloom behind your breastbone
white petals
flower from your lips
when you share your grief
let me open my palms
to reflect the spinning
lily essence of you
~*~
Written in response to paisley’s heartfelt poem, Freedom.
Photo credit: water [...]
Cheetah dreams of Barefoot Boy
This is a children’s story I wrote to accompany Rick Mobb’s beautiful painting. He provides fantastical images each Thursday for writers to describe and explore. Thanks, Rick!
Cheetah dreams of Barefoot Boy
Barefoot Boy dreamed he could read the words on a page. “Topsy-turvy,” he read, so he decided he must be awake, [...]
mannequins
after Giorgio de Chirico
We pose, propped
by a metal armature,
our parts bolted together,
hearts sketched on chests
where a beating vessel
should be. Someone stole
it awhile back, we
can’t remember when
it happened. Banished
to a two dimensional
foreground, eyes scraped
from our heads, no way
to gaze on remembered
green mountains. We sense
the rumbling of clouds,
notice the electric
humidity on a sheath
of skin, our only touch
since [...]
