The Wabi-Sabi Writer

 My hair - wavy flaxen flowed down my backMy imagination effervescent    expansiveandetherealMy childhood -  all ballet recitals and play dough partiesa futurewell assuredthenfelledbya pixiea partingand pain of learning it was too lateto changeNovember Poetry Project15 of 30 &nbs...

My red plastic cup with straw attachedso perfect for blowing a frantic froth of milky bubblesMy orange creamsicle coverleta snuggly soft security blanketkeeping me safe even as it, like life, unravelledMy menagerie a wild bounty of stuffies -bears, bunnies, kittens and frogsall cuddly and cozy and loveMy kittiesAll kittiesSunny, Coco, Dum Dum, Grover, Speedy, Sweet Lady and her sweet babies, Sebastian, Peppermint, Missy, Dog, Squeaky, even...

Twicemy motherhit methough she claims she never didOnceacross the facefor perceivedsassthe shockstungmore than the slapAgainon the assfive timesin front of the fridgefor asking for a glass of milkfrom a strangerwhy would a five year oldfollow fifteen year oldsoh they said I was old enoughto walk homefrom schoolThis tiny yet tall girlsoon found herself tiredandthirstyalone(the teens vanishing into their own airs)So I wanderedinto a strange housea...

Do you rememberwhen you knewnothingeverythinganythingfor certainyou were happiersmartersadderlonelier were you?and just whendid you believeit wasn't enough?November Poetry Project12 of 30  &nbs...

Far from Freddieyet still rifewith dreadwherethe wallslined with tiny dancersdemonsunder the bedMy mothera nonbelieverthrough and throughsat me at the formica tableto memorizethe lords prayerwith much ado Hurling rhubarb in the hallsnapping bonesin a fallJealousJehovahwitnessedthe death of Santa Clausby her own handCovetousCousinspurloinedthe poolwith a false promise landand yethere I thought I was safe a red baby grand piano...

how I lovethe smell of new box of crayonsall the perfect pointsstill sharpwrapped in matching labeled paperthe sunset orangethe sea greenand cerulean blueoh andpretty pleaseperiwinklewithin the linesor willfullyoutsideeven within the lead etchedgray gradientswe colorour livesNovember Poetry Project10 of 30  "From the moment I held a box of crayons, I knew this was my life." - Matisse*Pervenche - French - Periwink...

I used to be flexiblecontorting my beingto fit the worldas a childmy worldwas wildlimitlesswhen I knewwhat I wantedto beif I had to bein that placethe when you grow up placethe essence I easily embodiedcurling my feetto my headHow could I not -Sunny climbed into the cribwith me on day oneMy instincts inspired and honedlike a catthat combination of hearingwith a preternatural understandingof cause and effectsensing what is unseenThe...

Hovering Headless mannequinshaunting GoodnowsTheir long nail-less fingersfinding purchasein your ribsDiscorporate Blue-eyed Indianwomanwatching while you sleepfrom the WakefieldwardobeTiny littleheartshidingunder the bedtheir beatsheardin the hallwayspooled with pissand righteousnessthe pulseand thenthelong final beepofAsystoleNovember Poetry Project 8 of 30 &nbs...

I barely remember herall I seein my minds eyeis an amalgamof imagesrunning togetherlike Joe soft tawny furblack tipped earsslender flanksI see her standingtall in the grassof our front yardI do not know whereshe wentor why we had no othereverSo here, NowI keep her paw printson my heartNovember Poetry Project 7 of 30 &nbs...

I remember that time...Waking upfrom a wintertime napto find a bountyof boxeswrapped in crimson stripesand emerald garlandbeneathapvctreeOh the joybubbling up with gigglesand grinsSunny inspecting my workwith his red mittensand twitchy taledragging the biggestof them allfar taller than meinto the bedroommommy and daddycurled up beneaththe coversthe windows displayingjack frost's bestMy mother's shriek My father's groanasking me whyI thought...

We would take long walksMy mother and Ialong the country roadnear our neatly tucked-intiny house my tiny handneatly tucked into hers"to the secretary" - I would proclaimwhen she would ask where we should goso off we wentto Wildwoodswhere I wantedto wanderwith the tiniest of them allall the little children'tell me all their namesso I can call to them'from my tiny bedwith its chenille pink bedspreadso neatly tucked inMy mother would smile" you...

Have a seaton the burnt orange hassock watch the worldon a 25 inch screenExplore Near and FarMr. Hooper's StoretoMr. Roger's NeighborhoodThe Electric Companypowering the wayover a capital Tin a single boundHave a seaton the chipped wooden porchwatch Sunny scamper in the front yardbefore scooting backsending a singlesliverdeepin the seatwhere only a Grandmothercan fish outwhile your motherholds back tearsHave a seaton your...

It was a simpler timea timewhen a toddlerwould amble downa grassy hillover rocksandphloxto find theyellowbrickroadreallya long dirt drivewaywhere she would wanderto the woodenmailboxleavinga notea wishwritten with sea foamand periwinklepromisesofpixie dusther motherleft herto her own devicesto make her ownwayeverydayinhopeoffindingmagicdeliveredonly to find her own writingstuffed way backwhere she had to standtip toedteeteringto...

AtthreeI seeicecloakedtreessparklingafterthe stormI standshiveringyoustandingtallas the treesbowbefore yousnaponeofffor meto savorIseenota crystal swordnorslipperysharpshardIseeonlyeverwinterssweetandyousmilingdownatmeNovember Poetry Project 2 of ...

 All of minemy painfulandmy preciousare saved yet strewnaboutlike lettersleftyellowingin fatigued cardboardcornersof my mindI wonderthoughwhere would I findmyfirstthey say you never forget your firstand yethere I amstaring into the glassat my mother laughingbracing against the kitchen sink,a crystal flute in handtoastingI assumesomethingwondrous and invaluableis it me?tales told at tablesoft includesparkling notionslike the French champagneoffered...