Willful Canyons

Willful canyons carved

of bones beneath flesh,

rise and fall marking empty

spaces, outside and inside.

Once a smooth landscape,

now stark desert land,

sharp angles of deprivation,

ribs like ridges of carved rock

punished by anger

and the ravages of sun’s glare.

Punish the landscape

by withholding food, and it

rewards with new sharp angles,

art of light and darkness

over bones and flesh,

covering emptiness.



The Door

The door won’t close. You can’t walk through it

anyway. It’s dark in there, cobwebs in every weary

corner.  Secrets hang like fog on morning water, air thick,

creeping toward the open door, but staying.

Outside is bright and green and calls to you, but still

you stay, in gloom.  A hand grips you in darkness,

pulls you deeper, away from the door.  Cobwebs catch

your face.  I pass by and hear you weeping.  You can’t

reach the door.


The Very Inspiring Blogger Award



I am so pleased and happy that I have been nominated by secondhalfwoman (http://secondhalfwoman.wordpress.com) for the The Very Inspiring Blogger Award.  I do so appreciate the recognition and encouragement!

Rules of this award are as follows:

1. Link back to the blogger that awarded you.

2.  Nominate 15 other bloggers.

3. Share 7 facts about yourself.

I have put the link back to secondhalfwoman’s blog.  It’s great – you should go check it out!  Here are 15 other blogs (of many, many) that I enjoy:

1. http://photosbywyatt.wordpress.com/

2. http://hikingphoto.com/

3. http://dsatellite.wordpress.com/

4. http://missrosen.wordpress.com/

5. http://pamtanzey.wordpress.com/

6. http://scottiechronicles.com/

7. http://wordpress.com/#!/read/blog/id/34647045/

8. http://shadesofclaire.wordpress.com/

9. http://apronhead.wordpress.com/

10. http://wordpress.com/#!/read/blog/id/40501865/

11. http://wordpress.com/#!/read/blog/id/36750569/

12. http://sickocean.wordpress.com/

13. http://cobbledtoolbox.wordpress.com/

14. http://thoughtsfromtheoutdoors.wordpress.com/

15. http://hovercraftdoggy.com/

 Now for the hard part…..7 facts about myself….this won’t be easy for me.  Let’s see…

1. I have survived brain surgery (craniotomy) once already, but my brain tumor has re-grown.

2. I am an animal lover, with a particular fondness for dogs, horses, and donkeys.

3. I can “read” people.

4. My three favorite places are Alaska, Sedona AZ, and the northern coast of France.

5. I love pizza.

6. I know people I have never met.

7. I want to get a book published so there is something left behind for my daughters when I am gone.

Thanks again for this opportunity and nomination.  Wordpress has been a real gift to me!

Dear Amanda Todd

Dear Amanda Todd,

I saw the video you posted

about bullying, and mistakes

you made, and pain you were in.

You were only 15, holding up

hand-written signs instead of speaking,

silenced already. You were reaching out

for anyone to help you, the raw hurt

so alive it crawled off the screen

and into me, leaving me with a heaviness

that didn’t lessen. I decided to write you,

to tell you that 15 doesn’t last, that there

is another life ahead where you can be

anybody you want, if you just hang on.

Talk to me, Amanda Todd, but don’t give up.

I can help you. I went back to the computer

to find your email – looked you up – and saw

“Amanda Todd commits suicide after being

tormented” and my breath is knocked away,

because I didn’t get to you. Nobody did.

And I am so sorry. We all let you down.

Frozen there, I see I have a message.

It’s from my own 14-year-old daughter, and it

says, “I don’t want to be alive anymore.”

Panic grips me. How do you save 14?

Maybe you would know, Amanda Todd,

maybe you could tell me.

But you are gone.


Sun through Bare Trees

Waits, until it can push past

wooden fingers that reach up

to block it, and thick, heavy arms

it swings as the winter breeze blows

cool.  She’s trying to shine on me, as I

sit on the edge with arms wrapped

tightly around folded legs.  Trying to reach

me, to warm me, but angry tall tree

hovers over, threatens to keep her from me,

with his rough, old body and so many limbs.

I hear his sinister laugh as I shiver, but she

doesn’t give up, she rises higher, where

his bony fingers can barely reach and peeks

through, glowing.  The tree sags a little,

knowing the sun will win, and she bursts

through the holes in his bare branches

and I am warm enough to turn

my face skyward and smile.


Weekly Writing Challenge (Something Different)

This is still bothering me:  why wasn’t I able to do the Happy Photo Challenge?  I tried to put together a group of Happy Photos, but every time I would like back at them, I would see something in the pictures that WASN’T happy.  I mean, can a picture really be all happy?  The only one I found that was really all happy was my daughter as a one year old, running naked toward the ocean.  And who knows what might happen if I posted that on the Internet.  Those weren’t happy thoughts at all.  So, I abandoned the Happy Photo Challenge…and felt like a failure.

So, now I take on this writing challenge.  I like to write poetry.  This is not poetry.  I am just writing, letting it all hang out verbally.  I don’t do that – not on my blog, not in real life.  How does it make me feel?  Anxious.  I like to censor myself, make sure my verbal spillage does not contain acid that will burn anyone except myself.  But I am stepping out of the box for this challenge.  I have to….because I failed at the Happy Photo Challenge.

I take things too personally.  Sometimes I feel like my skin is on inside out.  I don’t need a thicker skin; I need to have my skin turned around the right way…..so I have some kind of protection.  Right now every little thing sears me like boiling water splashing out of a pot.

My doctor just moved to Wyoming.  I live on the East Coast.  Do you know how many years it took me to find a good doctor?  And now I don’t have a doctor at all.  That burns me.  My football team keeps losing.  Yes, I know it’s just a game, but I write about them for a website, and it is so depressing to keep writing weekly articles about them getting trounced.  I had a photograph published – a nice photograph – and some website left a comment trashing it.  Ouch.  Burn. Burn. Burn.

Maybe other people get strong enough to shake off rejection letters and negative comments, but each one stops me from sending anything else out for at least a month.  I’m just not cut out for this, someone with her skin on inside out.  I am a good teacher, I think.  I just don’t tell the 9-year-olds that they are capable of wounding me with their words…..because they will.

I sound pathetic.  I should stick to censoring myself, I think.  I can feel the burning drops of water on my skin now.  Shame, maybe?  This honesty, stream-of-consciousness writing is my penance for not being able to do the Happy Photo Challenge.  You know, I think I could do it now, find those happy photos.  It’s all in the way you look at things, I guess.  And which way your skin is facing.