30 Poems in 30 Days

Have you ever wanted to try writing poetry? Join in this event writing 30 poems in 30 days and watch your poetry prowess emerge.

Leave a comment

dreaming bigger


Dream bigger, and live bigger. The universe has enough space.

Originally posted on Sirena Tales:

the universe keeps sending messages:

dream bigger

missing it at first

–heck, for a thousand times–

attending now



what would that look like?

the message surges

azure waves:

dream bigger~

dream bigger~

dream bigger~

hey, over here

what are we missing?

how to expand?

the universe keeps sending messages:

dream bigger

dream bigger




View original

Leave a comment

where to from here

poetry as branching out

poetry as centering in

poetry as a practice

poetry as a service

poetry as calling

poetry as community

shared poetry

private poetry

antiquated poetry

cutting edge poetry

poetry of salt shakers

poetry of dragons

poetry of senses

poetry of unconscious

poetry of deer frogs sun tulips night tea lipstick rain sparrow body wisdom tree sky love bridge skin dreams cherries water salt doubt wilderness cupboards ocean spring holes

please, no more poetry

thank you, and good bye!


With many bows to the organizers, for the wise words and the motivation!

May your practice go well.


1 Comment

When all the wisdoms voices, stopped talking

And I lost all context and meaning for my life,

understanding was a body posture, not a mental activity.–And fear, sadness

they too

paused their incessant cautioning.

not too concerned, with whether something was known

or unknown, feeble or demented.

All universities were forced to close,

as were many religious institutions who placed their emphasis

on scholastic knowledge and debate.

what do we orient to?

now that our books are empty,

too long dependent on others views and thinking–

as if truth can be gotten

then forgotten.

Leave a comment


Vapid. The temperature of the gods.

and I am hungry again, asking for your attention.

but I want freedom,

I want to free others

don’t box me in with your institutions

your forms and rules.

There is no shape for the human being

no color, no voice, no name.

what you see before you appears greatly

organized, planned, and perfectly executed.

perhaps this is true,

but equally so

is one massive disaster,

folding into another.

Hopeless, maybe.

but oh, the possibility

to subtract everything

from itself, and then divide.

innumerable infinity

so sweet,

you’ll have to share.

Leave a comment


met ken on the street tonight
hadn’t seen him all winter
greeted him “hello gardener” and he stopped

came from the coffee shop and was eager to talk
seeds he put in today
perfect moisture of the soil
troubles with the new well

three times  “see you on Sunday
I’ll let you go to your supper”
three times the conversation continued

last thing he said
wants me to have some clothes of his wife
some with tags still on
said she was shorter than me

guess she was twice my age or more
ken was 92 this march
his eyes are like milky marbles


Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 103 other followers