Stick to the Weight and Marrow – penned 2014

Stick to the Weight and Marrow
( Wordplay on Straight and Narrow)

Always stick to the weight and marrow they said
It will keep you out of trouble
They said
So I sought the weight
And I dug to the marrow

Oh, what a world of trouble

But what of the weight?
What of the marrow?

Is the weight the truth of it all, stripped bare,
Quivering like an oyster when its shell is jacked open
Something chilled, to swallow in haste and with a tasty condiment,
Or, like for some of us,
Never to be swallowed at all?

Is not the marrow a functionary for all things necessary for living,
Pumping out bloody things, building us up, or
Is it where feelings originate perhaps, since
One ‘feels it in their bones’
My marrow has exploded and bits of me are leaking everywhere.

Can you feel me?

But what of the weight?
And what of the marrow?

If I stick to the weight and marrow, perhaps I will
Finally get to the truth of the matter.
If so, will my bones let me know?
So I sought the weight
And I dug to the marrow.

Oh, what a world of trouble.

Inspiration – Pulled from my ‘phrase garden’ to play with. This was fun to write, even though the message is deep.

The Glitterati II – penned 2013

The Glitterati II

I am a snow globe container of thoughts and feelings
Shaken, not stirred
It takes time to settle back down, the new normal after life’s reelings.

Glittering glimpses of life fast forward and then back
Swirling, bouncing gently
Floating lazily to the bottom, internal me displayed like wares on a rack.

Where are you, that one, that one wanting me?
Stirred, not shaken
Intertwined is how our feelings should be.

Someone strong, but not silent, oh no that would not do
Speaking, feeling words
Come closer over here and let me see into you.

Open your heart to possibilities and let down your guard
Warmth, suffuses you
Can you understand that loving really isn’t that hard?

But don’t shake me, turn me upside down, don’t ever be rough
Appreciation, gentle affection
Perhaps we both lack, but really, we all have enough.

Alone in my head I ponder these things
Exploring, softly smiling
The best I can do is simply see what each day brings

Catch a butterfly, a sunrise, a rose glowing in the sun
Observing, fully enjoying
Examining the beauty that the timely shutter click has spun

There go the pieces, can you put them together?
Brightly, softly flowing
Do you have what it takes for us all storms to weather?

I am a snow globe container of thoughts and feelings,
Heart, fully wakened
Arms opened wide, ready for each day’s dealings.

Inspiration: A little snow globe in a store kicked off this thought pattern, bouncing around in my head while hunting down photo beauty.

Bloom from my Pinata Rose bush

Bloom from my Pinata Rose bush

Cadence – penned 2010


I watch the night skies, all alone
And will my heart not to turn to stone.

Days come and nights fall
I push, fight hard, against melancholy’s pall.

A flower blooms and butterflies are born
Betwixt past and future I am ever torn.

It is in the day-to-day
I feel sometimes that I lose my way.

Love is not found by constant striving
Rather stumbled upon while otherwise thriving

So my task upon each new waking
Is to live and learn, each joy gently taking.

Perhaps through chance and undiscovered treasure
My heart once again will beat with perfect measure

In one-two cadence…give, receive, give, receive.


Inspiration: I worked nights at the time of my husband’s death, so star-gazing was a ‘thing’. This was written during a time of serious depression, although I didn’t know it was that at the time. It is the first poem I wrote after the death. I’ve come a long way since then.

Found Blues – penned and recorded June 2014

The 'Found' Blues

The ‘Found’ Blues


Found Blues

I spied the Blues scattered in the alleyway
And picked up the pieces
One by one

Some coated with the grittiness of life’s hardships
Some shiny, beckoning, whispering of avaricious escapes
Sang they to me.

I tossed them from hand to hand, measuring their weight
Feeling their fitted perfection in my palm
As if tailored for me.

Momentarily, I wanted to hold on to the Blues.

Surely I deserved the use of them
Hard earned they were
Each pain personally engraved

It is time to give in…just a little
Have a minute pity party dear, what is it again…
Table for one?

I let them slip from my fingers
and listened not – after all, they were just

Found Blues

Inspiration: The displayed odds and ends in the photo above in varying shades of blue, that I found yesterday while on a walk. Seriously. Including the blue lid they are all arranged upon.

Scaffold of Words

Scaffold of Words

If you cannot feel me through my written words
Then you will never grasp me in person
For my words are the architecture of my inner most parts.
Secret things hung out to dry in front of you.

If I do not resonate with you through my written words
Then you will never hear me when I am there
For standing unguarded and wordless before you
How will you hear the things I long to say to you?

If you cannot see my inner shape through my written words
Then you will see flatness when I lay beside you
For my curves and warmth will have no depth
As you fail to give my frame flesh and heart.

If you say actions speak louder than words
Then you do not realize that words are what form actions
From thoughts, even those unbidden,
All parts of life are upheld by the skeletal scaffolding of words

Written first in our minds.


This is a new thing for me to try, recording my own poetry. It was suggested  by a friend. I would really appreciate feedback as to if you prefer to hear the poem in your own mind, with your own phrasing, or, if it is better to hear how it feels when written?

Thanks <bites nails>


Inspiration: A discussion with a friend.