Category Archives: Poetry

Existential Crisis and Love (and Poetry)

Living in the End Times is rough. Societal collapse, with rising prices and stagnant wages and an unthinkable wealth gap, is exhausting. Mass shooting after mass shooting. Scandal on top of scandal. The floor keeps sinking in the race to the bottom and the climate crisis is here and the tipping point four years out.Continue reading “Existential Crisis and Love (and Poetry)”

When your Daughter is Beautiful

It’s Strange When Your Daughter is BeautifulTo see it but dare not say it,Not wanting to define her by her beauty. I hear it, and stumble my response.Thanks feels inappropriate, “I know” feels wrong too. It’s Strange when your Daughter is BeautifulAnd she looks like you too. You see it,You hear it,You wonder if it’sContinue reading “When your Daughter is Beautiful”

Earthlings for Everything

In the beginning was the BeforeAnd the Time of Unknowing. As more BecameAnd More became Known.We entered the time of Discovery  And Forgetting. Now we are in the After the BeforeOr the Beginning of the After, depending on your angle. Much is Known and much is Forgotten. We listen to learn and remember.

Saturday Insight

I used to despair at what I could not do.The things I could Not Change.I would rage and weep and thrash and exhaust. Now I practice acknowledgment.   I see it and grieve it. Mourn and move onTo what I Can Do.

Caged, Curious, or Free

I have lived my life in a cage built of rules, close quarters with a lot of requirements.I yearn to raise a free daughter, I imagine what that would look like. I encourage curiousity, letting her wonder and wander,Saying yes more than no because after all, why not? I ask her to notice and sheContinue reading “Caged, Curious, or Free”

Divorcing the Shoulds

I’ve lived under the weight of Shoulds for as long as I can remember. The “supposed to” Unspoken and unspeakably high expectations. Through the last decade or so, I’ve been breaking free of the Shoulds.Liberating myself bit by bit,Loosening, though not breaking my shackles. The external ones were easier to see, “Don’t Should on me!”Continue reading “Divorcing the Shoulds”

My Mother, the activist

My mother would never describe herself as an activist,But I do. She never allowed Nestle in the house,She vetoed Carl’s Jr on every road trip,And never participated in Black Friday. My mother was an activist, in her way. With three kids to raise, a husband, and a job to juggle, She protested with her purse,RefusingContinue reading “My Mother, the activist”