Saturday, October 22, 2016

Honest to a fault

My honesty compels me to tell
The rest of the story
The dirty laundry
That only the child of a hopeless
Alcoholic anonymously can know
How I felt ashamed
To my very core
Guilt like a pair of concrete boots
Dragging me down 
To the bottom
Rock bottom
I met you there 
And I wept
While you slept
On the floor
Cigarette still in hand
Like a little flare
A cry for help
In that big empty old house
Now nothing more than a memory
That haunts me still 
No matter how far I run

Tuesday, June 14, 2016

Your girl

Feeling small
Excited anticipation
Heart beating faster
Coming closer
Touching my face
I submit
All yours

Monday, May 16, 2016


A faculty member forgot her keys on the counter of the bookstore, which prompted me to peek up there to see if I could find them.  Not just the keys, but also a big green cucumber lay on the counter as though on display.  Only problem was, we don't sell cucumbers.  In perhaps a moment of less than better judgement, I asked the professor if this was also her cucumber.  She laughed all the way out of the store.  A moment later I was approaching a young woman browsing cosmetics and found myself asking her (again probably not my best judgement) if this was her cucumber.  She said yes, the lady at the salon next door had given it to her for some reason and she was excited to get it home and eat it.  That was the final straw.  My professional facade cracked and I laughed out loud, right in her face.  I couldn't make this stuff up.  

Wednesday, May 11, 2016


Stressed and exhausted
Dazed and confused 
Weak and accepting
Fearful and bruised

Rusty and tattered
Restless and used
Beautifully broken
Yesterday's news

Wanting and needing
Hoping and pleading
Loving and living 
Sharing and giving 

Learning and knowing
Ebbing and flowing 
Breathing and slowing
Growing, just growing 

Monday, May 2, 2016


As a child I cherished the silly moments we had.  Knowing unconditional love thanks to you dad.  No sarcasm although your lectures could drive anyone mad.  
Now I look around and see so few who care enough to even try. I'm so alone and too afraid to wonder why.  So many songs can make me cry.  Don't die, don't die, please, sigh

Saturday, February 27, 2016

The Parent Curse

Monday to Friday I stand by your bed, looking down at your sleepy little head.
You look so peaceful I almost feel bad
Waking you from your deep slumberland.
"Time to get up now, we can't be late,
And it's already a quarter til eight."
"Just five more minutes," I hear you mumble,
And all morning long more grumping and grumbles.
Then finally!  The weekend, at last it is here!
No alarm clocks, no rushing, or traffic to fear.
There's only one thing on the weekend to fix,
You always wake me up at a quarter to six!