Son Flower Seeds

She sopped me up like a piece of bread dipped in venison gravy She said she tasted something wild even though I soaked it in vinegar “It’s a tad gamey.” she folded up three creases on her forehead and twisted her mouth unpleasantly. “Buuuttt how?” “I steeped like a teabag. Why I submerged until my…

Bruised Plums #240

They were unpromising Words grated like cheese. Words reduced to small shreds. Words strung like pasta. Tossed like a salad Thrown together with a pinch of thyme And oregano The other morsels were small. Irritants Acidic Tomatoes, garlic, and onions Barely noticeable to the tall ones Their necks stretched out in the clouds. They see…

Hate is?

Hate is like a piece of yeast. It permeates and puffs up with satisfaction It says, “I am right!” I hold truth! I carry all knowledge! I will rebuke! It wipes its mouth with a napkin And still the juice runs Hate dripping off chins Spilling over into diaper bins And storefront shelves Magazine covers,…

1,000 Words

I am not sure when I started writing this poem or why or whose kitchen I stood in, but possibly it will help us think more about words. Ironically when I was finished, it had a word count of 1,000. I know with social media and texting, we often take words wrong or quickly respond…

Muddy Words

This is a poem I wrote for a dear friend about 9 or 10 years ago? I changed the end a bit. Deb, this is for you. Love you much! “Muddy waters running ever so slow, Thick sludge Muddy feet and muddy hands that have sunk in the mire You are toiling and battling uphill….