The Wabi-Sabi Writer

And so this time has come to its end... 30 poems in 30 days Inspiration Transforms Chrysalis wild words wriggle poems flutter  freeing Muze's  butterflies across the page Thank you for joining me  on my poetic exploration of  all that is authentic by acknowledging three simple realities:  nothing lasts, nothing is finished, and nothing is perfect NaGloPoWriMo 20...

The new Normal has settled in The City like the obligatory relative staying  for "just a short while" We did not have  enough stocked up  our cupboards linen closets and patience running out we are on empty though gas prices are down no way to escape this town So we take Shelter in the place of our memories poured over porcelain and silver halide crystals We take refuge in literary sanctuaries shelves bowing in the bookcase begging for more We...

Nose to nose you saw me as not just your  own but your own kind Singing  opera and metal down the hall dark to dawn your sounds beckon me forth and oh how you  defy gravity leaping head over tail straight up and over If only I had your  gift of levitation We would float around the parlor in lotus position purring Ommmmmmmmmmm no negativity allowed Now you are mine my quarantine constant companion and I am yours furever NaPoWriMo  Day 29 Based...

It all started when... a  pesky persistent human-happy microbe went gangbusters on the world times of running races stuffing unwashed hands into gummy-bear filled bowls while smiling unmasked willing ones got up  close and personal but a distant memory events minuscule and colossal canceled children's birthday parties become cloistered car parades Graduations Ceremonies parent's schoolbook photos The Tour tabled and my perennial...

 Precarious profile life ambles on  an off-camber path so much to bear witness to catch and release Hard to find sure footing Consult or confess my denial while sympathetic  fools (by trade or chance) all rally behind the delusion Youth green my eyes I think see clearly the leaves verdant swaying all the verges details for decades comfortably insistently blurred come into sight How...

Fog-laden mornings yield to glorious gale gusting sunshine and maskless meanderers  Magnolia and Cherry blossoms scatter on sidewalks,  eucalyptus stands sentinel along the Presidio paths Rent controlled old English,  leaning rapacious towers,  shakey foundations  and International Orange  bridging the bay Pickled People and PRIDE  crowds the corners Dogs abound, murders on every street,  buffalos...

So often we look at the world through milky  cataracts lenses  blurred  insta-filtered curb-side coffee with a side of entitled  of self-worth If one is to look closer to wipe clean  the molded  contrition filled cavernous cracks There exists amaranthine universes between us around us within us NaPoWriMo  Day 25 Image: Gary Greenberg *3d Microscope view of sand from Maui Bea...

Pandemic pas de monde poetry in motion shelter in place practice social distance Main Street and Market marauders These creatures of Habit Hoard creature comforts in their entitled bloated bowels Gone  is the zooming traffic travel and FoMo ambitions Now is the zooming meetings workouts and Happy Hours Stock Piling disposable paper Stocks plummeting dispensable paper Bare bottom and Bear Market toothless mutterings of old women Please wait raving...

No more Gel nails The lady is a tramp it would be red unshaven pits and parts so many liars for a living it is difficult  to swallow a bug on  a ball rolling over and again rhinestone rosary beads blizzards and boobs Love locks lock  down (oh fuck) the sound of inspiration (pen click) NaPoWriMo  Day 2...

Reading the first pages a second time close to a decade has passed between the first now faded words scratched the surface sharp-pointed intentions penciled in each morning a long-standing date with a bare-faced groggy obstreperous sometimes loquacious tea swilling muze My eyes strain to read  struggle to see greying pale words reach out to me offering a kindness as waters crack open and flow Have some tea and wipe your tears the...

Bashō in a woodblock print by Tsukioka Yoshitoshi. From britannica.com For rue IKEA Cuz what you to be  - om oooo  Me sue, no - oh two Haiku by Matsuo Bashō furuiki ya                            the old pond Kawazu tobikomu                  a...

I remember the spring you painted dozens of whittled white pine eggs in the nest  of your darkened room Vibrant saturated sparkling orbs  leaving glitter kisses on my hands many years later I hold  my fuschia egg my glistening Faberge memories of you  NaPoWriMo  Day 20 Based on the prompt to write a poem about a handmade or homemade gift *pisanka siostrzyczki...

Dreams and migraines sleep and fixation nothing soothing here waiting on me other than wistful sun-streaked blue horizons Clouded over by an eternal  stay of an infernal idiot Send in the clowns down this boarded up boutique boulevard de rigueur designers Esty Louis Vuitton 3M and Doll's Kill strut the street in obligatory fashion yet there are those unfazed naked faces wearing only brazen brash disregard exposing us all NaPoWriMo  Day...

Sun and grey trembling treetops whirring cars mint-scented steam swirling out of the turquoise  teacup on the table Mozart in the Morning It is here that I feel it flowing into my veins seeping deep in my tissues sinews stretching filling full I run my thumb  over the place like a touchstone a devout sign a middle memory a call to prayer NaPoWriMo  Day 18 Zebiba - Muslim Prayer callus ...

The gold sun that slid between my blinds has vanished the sooty promise of rain and sharp bite of cold air all that remains behind NaPoWriMo  Day 17 Photo by Lina Kivaka from Pexels ...

There is no time in this life where one is finally over lessons learned there will always be moments of  intense unbridled  happiness joy matched and mated with agony utter fear of it  ending times of deep consuming grief profound loss and numbing bouts of boredom meaninglessness of wanting and  not having of having and being disappointed in the  clutch Ideas scamper dust...

Waves of memories crash on the jealous shores Each drudging up gelatinous regret Decisions scattered like silver dollar shells at my feet I rattle the chalky disk hoping for a dove yet the only way to know is to break it open and  then it is too late "you don't choose a life you live it" the way and wild calling me to the path rare birdsong breaks through the cacophonous glass pieces native flute now if...