Page 30 of 79

Witching Hour … and other responses to the last Wednesday Writing Prompt

“Alas! a woman that attempts the pen,
Such an intruder on the rights of men,
Sucha presuptuouos Creature, is esteem’d,
The fault can by no virtue be redeem’d …
How are we fallen, fallen by mistaken rules?
Ad Education’s , more than Nature’s foods,
Debarr’d from all improve-meats of the mind,
And to be dull, expected and designed …
-Anne Finch, The Poems of Anne Countess of Winchilesea, ed. by Myra Reynolds
as quoted by Sandra M. Gilbert and Susan Gubar, Shakespeare’s Sisters, Feminist Essays on Women Poets



I think our poets just had a lot of fun with the last Wednesday Writing Prompt,Spinning With Shakespeare, February 20, 2019. I had  fun reading them and so will you.

Thanks Gary W. Bowers, Irma Do, Jan Goldie, and Anjum Wasim Dar.  Thanks also to Cubby (Sonya Annita Song) for her contribution. Please welcome her warmly. She is new to Wednesday Writing Prompt.  Special thanks to Irma Do and Anjum Wasim Dar for the added value of the photographs and to Anjum for her artwork as well. Appreciation to Clarissa Simmens for sharing her Shakespeare homage.  They’ll be shared in a separate post.

I’m tickled to see that folks are commenting on one another’s poems and visiting one another’s sites.  That what it’s really all about. Bravo!  Readers will note that links to sites are included when they are available so that you can visit. If there’s no site, it’s likely you can catch up with the poet on Facebook.

Enjoy this unique collection and do join us tomorrow for the next Wednesday Writing Prompt.


To Scratch or Not to Scratch

To scratch, or not to scratch, that is the question:
Whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The itch and burn of abusive mosquito bites
Or to take arms against a sea of irritation
And by opposing end them:

To scratch, to rub, no more;
And by a rub to say we end
The frustration and the maddening,
Relentless shocks that flesh is heir to?
‘Tis a consummation devoutly to be wished.

To scratch, to rub – to rub, perchance to slake:
Aye, there’s the bub,
For in that rub of satiation
What doubts may come
When we have abandoned
This self-restraint must give us pause.
There’s the inanity that creates confusion
Of such simplicity:

For who would bear the jolts and pangs of bites,
The insatiable lust,
The sleepless nights,
The pangs of irate skin,
The obsessive thoughts,
The insolence of the unbitten,
And the spurns that impatient scratchers
By the self-righteous take,
When he himself might his liberation make
With a sole finger?

Who would itchiness bear,
To shake and tremble
Under a tortured skin,
But that the dread of something
After the scratch,
The possibility of greater itch to come,
From whose scratch no human can deny,
Puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear the itch we have
Than scratch to others that we know not of?

© 2019, Sonya Annita Song (a.k.a. Cubby) (Reowr, Poetry that purrs. It’s reword because the cat said so.)

c Sonya Annita Song

SONYA ANNITA SONG is a poet whose rhymes are loved by both adults and children. Her writing style for children is delightfully whimsical with a natural flow meant for reading out loud. Sonya’s goal as a children’s author is to create engaging rhyming picture books that children and parents will have fun reading together. One of her favorite memories as a child is going to the local library in the summer and bringing back shopping bags full of books to read. Books were, and still are, passports to incredible destinations full of joy and wonder, and Sonya hopes all children will discover the marvels of reading just like she did. Children’s site: http://www.sonyaannitasong.com;  Poemhunter: http://www.poemhunter.com/sonya-annita-song/ .  Clipped from Cubby’s Amazon page.


dj b.ill.e shex

how sharper n a SERPENT’S tooth
n one bare bodkin
[Dies.]
4sooth
singe my white head
4 b n old
2 b r naught
poor tom’s acold

ah words words words
r’t naught th point
o band o bruhs
time out
a joint

© 2019, Gary W. Bowers (One with Clay, Image and Text)


Recycling Shakespeare for a Better World – A Haiku Sonnet

In this brave new world

Plant a heart of gold, harvest

A bouquet of friends

Faint-hearted farming

Doesn’t yield food for the soul

Cold comfort hunger

Break the ice – Be brave

Be fancy free with warm words

Of love and welcome

All our yesterdays

Are meant to be composted

Nutrient wisdom

Silence can kill with kindness

But regretful words do not.

This was a fun and challenging prompt initiated by Jamie for The Poet by Day Wednesday Writing Prompt. She writes, “Fe, foh, and fun … Take a spin with Shakespeare and write us a poem using phrases of his that have come into common usage.” I honestly didn’t realize that all these phrases came from Shakespeare’s work! I’ve really only read “Romeo and Juliet” and some sonnets so seeing all these common phrases attributed to his work was quite a surprise. Check out this link if you want to see what Shakespearean works the phrase I used came from.

And of course, I had to do a sonnet to further honor The Bard. To give it a bit of my own flavor, I chose the Haiku Sonnet form. Again, I never new there was such a thing until I saw it in this website here.

Learning new things and new ways of looking at the world is one of the best gifts I’ve gotten from writing and reading poetry. What do you think of this recycled Shakespearean piece?

© 2019, words and photo, Irma Do (I Do Run. And I do a few other things too …)


Witching Hour

All that glitters, is not gold and

all’s well that ends well, he sighed.

Yet there was no method in his

madness, for the naked truth is,

he made the foregone conclusion,

that misery acquaints a man with

strange bedfellows, and that the

course of love never runs smooth,

which left him heartsick and lackluster.

 

At the witching hour of the night,

When churchyards yawn and hell

itself breathes out, and as he breathed

his one last breath, a ministering

angel of infinite space, came to save

him from the jaws of death, and

trippingly on the tongue, said,

 

What, a piece of work is man.

What  fools these mortals be,

violent delights have violent ends.

Ah, There’s the rub.Truth will out,

he’s had too much of a good thing.

Love is not love which alters

when, it alteration finds.

And thereby ends the tale.

Which is tedious as a

Twice Told tale, but

What is done is done.

© 2019, Jen Goldie (Starlight and Moonbeams and the Occasional Cat)

In Words: A Shakespearian Tale

Neither a borrower nor a lender be!
As luck would have it, in this brave new
world I managed to break the ice,
discovering that brevity is the soul of wit.
The fellow refused to budge an inch, this
was cold comfort as conscience does
make cowards of us all. I, with bated breath,
In one fell swoop, decided to play it fast
and loose, set my teeth on edge
and with a heart of gold, proclaimed,
ill wind blows no man to good!
You have eaten me out of house and home,
For goodness sake! Good riddance!
I am more sinned against than sinning!
In my heart of hearts, I had to conclude
the game is on. Love, is blind filled with
forgotten yesterdays. I gave the devil
his due, for much ado about nothing.
“O God, O God, how weary, stale,
flat, and unprofitable seem
to me all the uses of this world.”
“My tongue will tell the anger of my heart,
Or else my heart, concealing it, will break.
And rather than it shall, I will be free
Even to the uttermost, as I please,
in words.”

© 2019, Jen Goldie (Starlight and Moonbeams and the Occasional Cat)


‘Tis the Road Out of the Frame

1535606_10152158621385747_420230311_n

Who’s there? unfold yourself ‘
Oh ’tis the road, out of frame, once
in grace, wore an inky metaled cloak …

With memories sweet- on it
trotted Arabian horses, held by leather
reins, with mirth in riding, jingling bells

Would lift the learning loads and
stay on the beat-  but
something is rotten, makes me sick
at heart-  behold  in silence it lies 

So defiant in dilapidated defeat!
it seems to be there, still serving in retreat-
Though gone is the tar crush and concrete;

Ah Old  Harley Road, I speak with reason,
You have the best on you, treading 
You are replete with learning homes
words words and words,

But، Ah there’s the rub-
The craters humps and dilapidation-
Oh Lord, what are we learning  
in this precarious condition? 
That is the question-

While yet the memory of good times
be green ,me thinketh,
Whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to suffer,
the slings and jumps of outrageous travel-
The heart aches, thousand natural shocks
that the flesh is heir to-or to take up arms
against oceans of ditchy trouble,
Or by opposing, clean sweep them…?

Who would bear the whips and scorns
of time immemorial, the laws delay,
the repairs astray, the rains decay ;
all is not well, tis an unweeded garden-
do we continue to grunt and sweat
on a weary road? tis but my fantasy,
as  foul deeds will rise’, beware  the
Ides of March…

Oh Fair Poetess, soft you now ,
Ah there’s the bump..OUCH…!
Angels and ministers of grace defend us’

s.peares home
Shakespeare’s Home -An Artist’s View

© 2019, poem (English and Urdu), photograph, and colored-pencil drawing, Anjum Wasim Dar (Poetic Oceans)

کچھ  خستہ و بدحال سڑک کے بارے میں

کون ھے؟
اپنے آپ کو ظاھر کرو

ارے  یہ  تو  اکھڑی ھویؑ سڑک ھے  زخمی 
کبھی  گہری   شاھانہ  پوشاک پہنے ھوتی تھی

میتٹھے سہانے سفروں کی یادیں سمیٹے ، گھنٹی
بجاتے تانگوں پہ بچوں کو سکول پہنچاتی تھی

اب  خاموشی  میں لپٹی  اطاعت  سے  بچھی ھے
 گر  چہ اڑ  چکا ھے  تار کول ، غایب ھے بجری ساری

دلاؑیل  سے بات ھو تو سوال اٹھے ، جھٹکے دھکے
کھا کر گزریں، کیا حاصل علم ھو ، روحانی یا کتابی

جب تک اس پہ گزرے وقت کی اچھی یادیں باکی ھیں
دل تھام کہ اٹھایں غلیل ،مرہم پٹی سب کرواین  سرکاری

 کون کرے انتیظار،قانون پہ  انہسار، ھو بارشوں میں خوار
  ملک مشکل میں ،کھرپا  درانتی نا مالی، پھر خزانہ بھی خالی

اے شاعر معصوم  انجم   مہینہ مارچ کا سخت ھے بچنا زرا
 یہ  لو ، کھایؑ   اک اور ظرب کاری speed breaker آیا آیا او 

“POETRY PEACE and REFORM Go Together -Let Us All Strive for PEACE on EARTH for ALL -Let Us Make a Better World -WRITE To Make PEACE PREVAIL.” Anjum Wasim Dar


ABOUT

Spinning with Shakespeare – a poem and your next Wednesday Writing Prompt

“Write till your ink be dry, and with your tears
Moist it again, and frame some feeling line
That may discover such integrity …
William Shakespeare, Two Gentleman of Verona



E tu Brute

He did not beware
the Ides of March
And thereby hangs a tale
As luck would have it
It beggared all description

In my mind’s eye:
Is this a dagger I see before me?
Good riddance, you said
Fight fire with fire
You cried havoc, and he
Dead as a doornail
Cold as stone

Oh, woe is me
When sorrows come,
they come not as single spies,
but whole battalions
Short shift
You sent him packing
and more fool you

© 2019, poem, Jamie Dedes; public domain illustration ~ “This was long thought to be the only portrait of William Shakespeare that had any claim to have been painted from life, until another possible life portrait, the Cobbe portrait, was revealed in 2009. The portrait is known as the ‘Chandos portrait‘ after a previous owner, James Brydges, 1st Duke of Chandos. It was the first portrait to be acquired by the National Portrait Gallery (U.K.) in 1856. The artist may be by a painter called John Taylor who was an important member of the Painter-Stainers’ Company.”

WEDNESDAY WRITING PROMPT

Fe, foh, and fun … Take a spin with Shakespeare and write us a poem using phrases of his that have come into common usage.  If you need a bit of help, you’ll find some HERE. You can mix your own words with Shakespeare’s or stick strictly with his. Your choice.

Share your poems on theme in the comments section below or leave a link to it/them. All poems on theme will be published on the first Tuesday following this post.

 No poems submitted through email or Facebook will be published. 

IF this is your first time joining us for The Poet by Day, Wednesday Writing Prompt, please send a brief bio and photo to me at thepoetbyday@gmail.com to introduce yourself to the community … and to me :-). These are partnered with your poem/s on first publication.

PLEASE send the bio ONLY if you are with us on this for the first time AND only if you have posted a poem (or a link to one of yours) on theme in the comments section below.  

Deadline:  Monday, February 25 by 8 pm Pacific Standard.

Anyone may take part Wednesday Writing Prompt, no matter the status of your career: novice, emerging or pro.  It’s about exercising the poetic muscle, showcasing your work, and getting to know other poets who might be new to you. This is a discerning non-judgemental place to connect.

You are welcome – encouraged – to share your poems in a language other than English but please accompany it with a translation into English.


 ABOUT

Fatwood … and other poems in response to the last Wednesday Writing Prompt

A Word is Dead

A word is dead
When it is said,
Some say.

I say it just
Begins to live
That day.”

Emily Dickinson, The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson


Thanks today to Gary W. Bowers, Paul Brooks, Irma Do, Deb Felio (Deb y Felio), Jen Goldie, Anjum Wasim Dar, and new to our community, Maribeth Parot Juraska for responding with such well-considered and diverse perspectives to the last Wednesday Writing Prompt, On the Way to the Top, February 13, 2019.  A warm welcome to Maribeth. And, for value added, a special thanks to Irma Do for her stunning butterfly photographs and to Anjum Ji for her lovely illustration. Together they have enriched our day.  Well done!

Enjoy this unique and thought-provoking collection and do join us tomorrow for the next Wednesday Writing Prompt. All are welcome, no matter the stage of career – beginning, emerging or pro.


Fatwood

Buried by salt of dead sea;
one red maple perched atop patchy earth
grows narrowly
straight upside-down:

Roots in place of canopy,
poking upwards into sky’s electricity
like bed-head hair of old men,
fingers tangled in strands,
yanking, frantically, for just a few more
hours, floating somewhere with genies in bottles
of clouds risen from moisture
leaked out of their piss,
brown paper wrapper bags.

Branches budding into tunnels of earth,
burrowing like kangaroo rats into ground.
One whippoorwill singing,
“You’re doing it wrong.”
While chubby wind pummels, sound funnel of storm
rocking mud-tinged roots, taking two sapling capillaries,
every note of her song.

Even with renewed forms of ambition,
doubt, judgement,
trespass
never take long.

(Leaves, neither, never enough to cover
eggshells of empaths, mottled misunderstandings,
pioneering mistakes, despairing last breaths.)

And hence one red maple, topped by electrified scalp,
salty with sea brine, dives
where darkness becomes expectation,
not breach,
bringing what grains might help it adapt; and
sometimes, exhaling out impatience,
whispering wisdom to wriggly worms,
bites blindly, deeper into ground, misconceived as
growing its own matches, just another grave
mistake.

© 2019, Maribeth Parot Juraska

Maribeth Parot Juraska

MARIBETH JURASKA, Ed.D. debuted in the world of ISBN numbers with selected poetry pieces in American Poetry Anthology (Vol. VIII) published by the American Poetry Association. Dr. Juraska has earned an Ed.D., M.S.Ed., and B.A. in English, and is a former Training & Development Director and Professor/Director of teacher-candidate preparation. She has conducted research on multiple themes in T&D/Education, writing and presenting in areas of andragogy, performance assessment, candidate training, diversity, inclusion and social justice. She’s now a professional researcher/writer, dabbling in creative writing and spending other free time scoffing at cold winters and decaf coffe


cramberry sauce

crammed into the arena
are mostly men stunned
by the woeful reversals
bequeathed them
by the recession

they attend this
FREE!!!! motivational seminar
to get some steam back
and will hear a former first lady
and a former astronaut
several former ceos
and a silvertongued real-estator

and will be bucked up
and will fall for new schemes
and will spend
an average of $107.28
and will still not learn
the meaning
of FREE!!!dom

© 2019, Gary W. Bowers (One With Clay. Image and Text)


Born Top

of the heap, King of the hill.
Ambition when retire is pushing broom,

at the valley bottom where the river flows.
Work your way steadily down slippery slope,

responsibilities and job titles roll away scree
downhill, watch ground underfoot, see silver

of the river, get bigger, find the bristles
and whittle the handle, nail together.

From “A World Where”, Nixes Mate Press, 2017

© 2019, Paul Brookes, (The Wombwell Rainbow / Inspiration. History. Imagination.)

Be Complacent.

Take all for granted.
Be blasé. Let it all happen.

Smile sweetly as that car kills
that bystander. There’s nothing

you or I can do. We are not
in the car to stop the driver.

We are not by the pedestrian’s side.
We can only witness it all.

Don’t get involved. It will take up
all your life. Valuable time you cannot give.

You have work and family commitments.
Must strive to better yourself.

© 2019, Paul Brookes, (The Wombwell Rainbow / Inspiration. History. Imagination.)

Be Vague.

Recognition follows your
strive to be vague.
Lose sharp edges. Fade
A little at the corners.

This will define you.
Nothing must be prominent.
If it stands out make it sit down.
Don’t make an exhibition of yourself,

blend into background.
Urban camouflage expert.
Stealth worker. No loud clothes.

Self efface, deface your selfies,
if you must. Annunciate in whispers.
Mumble. Stay off the interweb.

It is only self publicity and aggrandisement.
Aver bright colours keep
to the colour of shadows.

© 2019, Paul Brookes, (The Wombwell Rainbow / Inspiration. History. Imagination.)

Achievement

“It’s a hobby.” he says
as he buys the latest adventure.

Level One: a half eaten pizza
goes cold as he outwits the foe.
Only 35 levels to go.

Levels Two-Ten: unopened bills
amass behind the front door.
He strives for a better score.

Levels Eleven-Twenty: The bath has
a black ring. Mice skitter dustclouds.
Over halfway and he is proud.

Levels Twenty-One-Thirty: He orders food
in on his mobile. His girlfriend left at level
Eighteen. If only he can reach the next level.

Level Thirty-One: He doesn’t hear or see the bailiffs
as they take his other tellies, cooker,
microwave and sundry furniture.

© 2019, Paul Brookes, (The Wombwell Rainbow / Inspiration. History. Imagination.)

Paul Brookes

FYI: Paul Brookes, a stalwart participant in The Poet by Day Wednesday Writing Prompt, is running an ongoing series on poets, Wombwell Rainbow Interviews. Connect with Paul if you’d like to be considered for an interview. Visit him, enjoy the interviews, get introduced to some poets who may be new to you, and learn a few t

The Wombwell Rainbow Interviews: Jamie Dedes


Ambition – A Haibun

Does the caterpillar look in the sky and seeing a bird strive to soar upon rainbow hues wings? Does she eat and eat out of envy and frustration? Does she hide away in her chrysalis, depressed that she hasn’t reached her full potential?

No, the ambition of a caterpillar lies in her ability to become her true self. The hard work is being satisfied and doing her best with each stage of life, so that when metamorphosis happens, she is ready in mind, body and soul.

Ambition becomes

Wings unfurled, colors revealed

The truth of hard work

Jamie, The Poet by Day, challenged us to write a poem about ambition. I had many thoughts about this but was inspired by a visit to a butterfly garden yesterday. Humans ambition has both positive and negative aspects of it but for animals, ambition or that strive to be the best seems to be ingrained. Maybe this is another aspect that sets humans apart from other animals.

Since I myself am not a very ambitious person, writing about it was somewhat of a difficult task. True, I have hopes and wants but I am content with whatever comes my way. It’s not so much that I don’t strive or that I don’t work hard (because I do!) but that drive towards a goal is not a focus in my life. While this drives my partner nuts (not to mention my parents when I was growing up), my ambitious drive is just not that strong. And I’m ok with that!

Thus, this totally not ambitious Haibun about ambition.

©️ 2019, words and photographs, Irma Do (I Do Run, And I do a few other things too …)


Be the 1

And everyone threw away whatever was an inconvenience
that challenged themselves to something more than themselves
God was first – not because of who he was but because
others’ misrepresentations, misbeliefs and misunderstandings
better he was wrong than they were
what they chose to keep and what they emulated —
writings by others who would abuse and misuse
weak science based in opinion
backed by big money
colleagues strung out on substitute
mini gods – manageable at least
an all for one and one for all mentality
each believing they were the one and the all.

© 2019, Deb y Felio (Writer’s Journey)


If You Do Not Stop

If you do not stop
on the way to the top,
to brace your footing,
on the way to the bottom
there will be no ledges.

© 2019, Jen E. Goldie (Jen Goldie)


Ambition

ambition

a human thing good or bad,holocaust,
moon landing, power, kingdom in hell,

to be king is to be but born a king,
beauty by itself cannot royalty be,

or chance may crown a commoner
so  kill on , you may commit error

and gain the throne, the game is on,
bullets may rain at any cross roads

you may be martyred, but that risk
must be taken, for fame or notoriety~

11

in  man’s first disobedience, lies supreme ambition,
in delusions of grandeur,  in deceitful revenge  ~

man lives with countless desires, the heart may
rule mislead but mind  must think,  be smart,

a struggle between choices,of wishes noble and base.
of reason, courageous honor, of  lust greed and anger

ambition self centered is Daedalus, in dead darkness,
ambition worthy, ‘inordinate desire, with no spurs’

 

شدت خواہش نے کی چاند تک رسایؑ، انسانی اچھایؑ یا برایؑ
گر برایؑ تو ،  بادشاھت جھنم ، شیتانی طاقت یا عالمی تباہی

                         چاھت  کی  سزا  سخت ھے  انارکلی  ایک مژال ھے
                  اللاہ  کو یہ  شکواہ نہ  ھو  کسی اور کو دل  میں بٹھا  لیا

خوبصورتی سے تاج شاہی نھیں،  خاندانی پیدایش چاھیے   
یا قسمت  ھو  تو عام  شخص بھی ھاصل کر لے تخت شاھی

 جنوں خبط   کی کویؑ حد نہیں  ، کتنے قتل کروگے
    جبری  طاقت ،موت پا کر  جلد  نظر ھوتی ھے  گولیوں کی   

خواھشات عظیم    کے  دھوکے میں جنت سے ھم نکلے
بڑے بے  اؑ برو ھو ےؑ ،  لالچ  میں   باغ ازل  سے  عزت   گنوایؑ

    اللاہ  نے عطا   کی  جب عقل   تو اسے   استعمال  کرنا
سوچ  کر چاھت کرنا ، سیکھنا  مگر  پہلے، اداب باغے شاھی

،امنگ سورج  کی  طرف؟, جلا ڈالے گی ، مٹ جایںؑگی لاکھوں
،خواہشیں  سب ، مستیؑ ہوس  دنیا  کی   لزتیں ہیں ،  عارظی

نفس متمعنہ کی سعی جاری رھے انجم دنیا ےؑ فانی میں
آرزو ھو  محبت، اللاہ کے لیے،رھے بیچ میانہروی میں زندگی

“POETRY PEACE and REFORM Go Together -Let Us All Strive for PEACE on EARTH for ALL -Let Us Make a Better World -WRITE To Make PEACE PREVAIL.” Anjum Wasim Dar

RELATED:


ABOUT

JUST PASSING THROUGH, A POEM … AND YOUR WEDNESDAY WRITING PROMPT

“Who knows how easily ambition disguises itself under the name of a calling, possibly in good faith and deceiving itself, in sanctimonious confusion?” Les Miserables, Victor Hugo



I saw you first
on the main banking floor
Unpacking customers
like a traveler his suitcase
Just passing through
on your way to the top

© 2019, poem, Jamie Dedes, All rights reserved;  photo courtesy of  Jiri Hodan, Public Domain Pictures.net

WEDNESDAY WRITING PROMPT

The poem above is about ambition that is totally self-centered, which it can certainly be. Ambition can also be a good thing, helping us get things done that make life better for our families and community. Like many human characteristics, it can be a mixed bag, a sticky combo of service to others and self-aggrandizement. What are your thoughts and observations? Tell us in your own poem/s.

Share them on theme in the comments section below or leave a link to it/them. All poems on theme will be published on the first Tuesday following this post.

 No poems submitted through email or Facebook will be published. 

IF this is your first time joining us for The Poet by Day, Wednesday Writing Prompt, please send a brief bio and photo to me at thepoetbyday@gmail.com to introduce yourself to the community … and to me :-). These are partnered with your poem/s on first publication.

PLEASE send the bio ONLY if you are with us on this for the first time AND only if you have posted a poem (or a link to one of yours) on theme in the comments section below.  

Deadline:  Monday, February 11 by 8 pm standard.

Anyone may take part Wednesday Writing Prompt, no matter the status of your career: novice, emerging or pro.  It’s about exercising the poetic muscle, showcasing your work, and getting to know other poets who might be new to you. This is a discerning non-judgemental place to connect.

You are welcome – encouraged – to share your poems in a language other than English but please accompany it with a translation into English.


ABOUT

Testimonials

Disclosure

Facebook

Twitter

Poet and writer, I was once columnist and associate editor of a regional employment publication. I currently run this site, The Poet by Day, an information hub for poets and writers. I am the managing editor of The BeZine published by The Bardo Group Beguines (originally The Bardo Group), a virtual arts collective I founded.  I am a weekly contributor to Beguine Again, a site showcasing spiritual writers. My work is featured in a variety of publications and on sites, including: Levure littéraure, Ramingo’s PorchVita Brevis Literature,Compass Rose, Connotation PressThe Bar None GroupSalamander CoveSecond LightI Am Not a Silent PoetMeta / Phor(e) /Play, and California Woman. My poetry was recently read by Northern California actor Richard Lingua for Poetry Woodshed, Belfast Community Radio. I was featured in a lengthy interview on the Creative Nexus Radio Show where I was dubbed “Poetry Champion.”


The BeZine: Waging the Peace, An Interfaith Exploration featuring Fr. Daniel Sormani, Rev. Benjamin Meyers, and the Venerable Bhikkhu Bodhi among others

“What if our religion was each other. If our practice was our life. If prayer, our words. What if the temple was the Earth. If forests were our church. If holy water–the rivers, lakes, and ocean. What if meditation was our relationships. If the teacher was life. If wisdom was self-knowledge. If love was the center of our being.” Ganga White, teacher and exponent of Yoga and founder of White Lotus, a Yoga center and retreat house in Santa Barbara, CA

“Every pair of eyes facing you has probably experienced something you could not endure.” Lucille Clifton