Posted in Photography, Poetry, prose

Worried (Thoughts Unleashed)

Borderline Crossing

My mind worries about everything. For instance, I contemplated if I should allow comments or turn them off on my blog. I don’t get many, so that is not the problem. The problem is coming across the right way in my answers. Please don’t get me wrong whatever I decide. I will only worry more.

Cinco de Mayo 2020

Then, I worry about food. My mother was very overweight and I was deathly afraid of ever having to be seen. So I refused food until I became a mother. Then I ate as if I never tasted spaghetti or tuna or chocolate chip cookies before. And I still have a propensity to over eat. I love the taste of food and I am a pretty damn good cook. Just wish I never had seen a plate, fork and knife. I am doomed.

Cape Cod Passions

And the last thing on my mind this morning is a dear friend who sent a note. Should I write back or wait a while? I once confessed a growing love while guilt tripped me up. The feelings were built over tides and shifting sand. I never intended to devour the sour or sweet. Meanwhile, insecurities continue to flourish under the bridge to cause more angst. Oh! to speak out loud, these morning thoughts, chases the sun away. I should go play under the clouds and worry alone.

Posted in Photography, Poetry, prose

Just Dance

Dance first. Think later.
It’s the natural order. —Samuel Beckett

What am I doing here? Does anybody really know? I suppose some of us do. The smart and put together ones.

I sit up nights worrying who I am. Resign myself to think I may never know. Knowing one day I am sunny and the next day I send shivers up the coolest cat in town.

Life was going swimmingly. I had plans. I felt my square edges had been rounded to fit in society’s cylinder vision. Then, you know, a virus spread like a bad case of halitosis. Why didn’t someone tell that person to keep their mouth shut? Yeah! I wouldn’t have the nerve to tell someone either.

Then I have another problem. The world is divided along political lines. And religion. And between truth, morality, and friendship. I’m somewhere in the gray area of exhaustion.

I realize I am as much to blame. So I sit and wonder. Will I have courage to change my life to compensate for these wavy thoughts.

No. Im not suicidal. Not this time.

Still, I need a break from this break. Sit awhile and sing me a song?

Posted in Photography, Poetry

Must I (Always)

Words are the clothes thoughts wear. —Samuel Beckett
Goodness knows I am worn out
from ideas and thoughts
cleansed papers hung

clothesline heavy with fresh air
sheets of perfection pressed
I wonder how to let go?

I am not the same girl
yesterday was left hanging
I brought scissors today

trimmed his hair
shorter than shoulder length
as time weighs heavy.

Sorry is painted clear
with fog surrounding our faces
and fingernails dug in earth

you reach for my dress hem
frayed from rolling down hills
and I wonder what tomorrow brings?

Mother may I
echoes through branches
as birds escape our dreams.
Posted in Photography, Poetry

My heart is a corridor


I cannot seem to walk past a door
lonely, in the pursuit of time
the wind’s impatient brush with forever

we stood in the hollow
bodies carved from sharpened rock
and painted yellow
the dim-lighted blackened space

You obviously see me
spared the chance of fading out
the rain washes our conscience clean.