writerly

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I read
overread,
skim-read,

d
   a 
      n 
          c
                 e 
       
           &

 r                 a            
          e                   d   
                              

          .           

and, 
while
r e a d i n g

b e t w e e n
            t   h   e 
    l         i        n       e        s

I keep losing
       my
             t r a i n 
          
                  o   f 

   t            o            g            t
        h            u             h       

          .             .

I don’t wanna
read
overread—
or 
misread !

d
  r 
      i 
          n
                k 

           &

 r                 a            
          e                   d           
  

.          .             .

      
           S o ,

             I 
w      r       i       t       e


***********

It’s been a while since my last post
(Or my last writing activity,
 for that matter)

Now, 
slooowly,
getting back to 
writing mood

Please bear with me -
While I invoke my
Free verse muse

Happy to be back, 
beautiful,
naughty, 
dark &
clever 
WordPress souls !

failed reader

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I wish I’d never 
let you read
any of the stories
in my draft
book
 
Since I always knew 
you’d just skim 
through 
those 
pages

( Lousy reader
that you were—
now, your time, pronto!
to get back 
to school )

This is
a book 
that will
never get
published

Too bad you 
trashed 
the draft 
upon first
reading
 
Too good
you’ll never
ever get
to read 
the end,

One so tenderly 
written in my
doctor’s 
handwriting -
undecipherable,

for
my 
Failed 
R e a d er
E x t r a o r d i n a i r e

new seas she sails

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New seas she sails
with wet, wet eyes
cold, purple lips
a wild, wild heart

A fighting mind
one fateful tune
one fresh start
a blinding light

New poems read
with tired eyes
a stunning feat
those rhyming lines

Warm, purple ink
a healing heart
she will, one day,
recover might

A writing sword
on stormy fields
she will in dreams
all battles fight

And conquer will
those seas she sails
those dry, dry lines
a fighting mind

She starts to sail
she longs to write -
new poems, wild,
they will take flight

New seas she sails
a bright new night
with drier eyes
h e r
s  o  l  o
w  r  i  t  e  s 

silky promises

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you told me 
you’d be there
for me
that you’d read
my words
late at 
n i g h t

those silky
promises

yet you only
skimmed through
those lines
flapping your
dark godly wings
flying out to more
luscious
v e r s e s

those silky
promises

so exquisitely thin
one can still
inhale the aroma
of cheap cigar
dressed up 
in cuban
a t t i r e

those silky
promises

the words
are still there
for your one
and only 
reading
pleasure

naked
flowery
dark
and
mourning

just for your
eyes only,
those very silky 
promises,

u n d e r

t h e

p a l e

m o o n l i g h t