Poetry Ptuesday: Late October by Maya Angelou

Carefully the leaves of autumn sprinkle down the tinny sound of little dyings and skies sated of ruddy sunsets or roseate dawns roil ceaselessly in cobweb greys and turn to black for comfort.   Only lovers see the fall a

Upcoming Posts

Well, it happened, with my talented and wonderful friend Christina on board, I fell off updating this blog myself. I’ve missed many Poetry Ptuesdays and I’m backlogged on Spending Breakdown by TWO months! I haven’t completely finished my bench, and

Poetry Ptuesday: All Those Gold Leaves by Anis Mojgani

[Whoa! I missed TWO Poetry Ptuesday. Guys, my bad! Here’s a fun one though.] * All Those Gold Leaves by Anis Mojgani My piano coat unbuttoned and all my pianos fell into the leaves. I was picking up pianos for

Poetry Ptuesday: Becoming American by Vern Rutsala

The Yankees needed ditch diggers, sandhogs, fodder for the wild hunger of their mills and sent out invitations with no RSVPs. My people came then, dimly knowing they had to cut away the baggage of the selves they brought with

Poetry Ptuesday: The Meaning of Life by Nancy Fitzgerald

[This week’s poem arrives later than usual, my apologies. Tomorrow would have been Amanda’s 35th birthday. It is the third one after she killed herself. I always wonder about that. Did she think of how many more birthdays she would

Poetry Ptuesday: The Journey by Mary Oliver

On day you finally knew what you had to do, and began, though the voices around you kept shouting their bad advice– though the whole house began to tremble and you felt the old tug at your ankles. “Mend my

Poetry Ptuesday: Desiderata by Max Ehrmann

[Desiderata: something considered necessary or highly desirable.] ***** Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth

Poetry Ptuesday: Wonder by Maya Angelou

A day drunk with the nectar of slowness weaves its way between the years to find itself at the flophouse of night to sleep and be seen no more.   Will I be less dead because I wrote this poem

Poetry Ptuesday: In This Story by Caitlyn Siehl

in this story, your mother isn’t the villain. in this story, you find a way to pick the lock, to wake up, to climb out of the tower yourself. in this story, you’re angry. in this story, you meet a

Poetry Ptuesday: Wild Geese by Mary Oliver

You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves. Tell

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