Category Archives: Poetry

What I Know is Nothing


When I look up and into the sky blue sky

full of fluffy white fluffy clouds

Space is full of stuff – stuffed stuff or unstuffed

Beyond the blue and white above me are other planets, other skies, other guys

Naked, I shiver in the hot summer afternoon – but it’s a dry heat

In a coat, I shiver among snow drifts – but it’s a moist cool

Above my head are twinkling stars that twinkle like a star

Vastness of universe and limitations of my body and mind – not parallel like a parallel universe

What I know for sure is that I know nothing – like I know what I know, and it’s nothing


Sadness Has Shades – A Poem



A painter uses color, texture -tangibles – to express herself.

I use words. My mind purges its stresses on white pages.

I sometimes think in gray.

Cloudy skies are the shade of sadness.

Sadness has shades, if you didn’t know it.

I’ve had sadness in blue shades. Blue, more intense than gray.

Gray has no passion, is sleepy and without great expression.

Blues offer bite. When dark, it’s angry sadness.

Light blue leaves room for improvement. Hope.

Black. Ever felt black?

Absorbing all light around you. Reflecting none.

Lack of light is black. I’ve felt black. I’ve lived black.

Black was the height of sadness, and all was dark.

Are you beige? Beige is boring. Not ugly but boring.

I lived beige for several years. It was a color of denial.

Same old. Same old. Beige. Sad but denying it.

Currently, I feel green. New growth is everywhere.

Soon it will be spring. Life has changed.

Green feels nice. Cooling and hopeful.

No sadness blankets this life.

But now and then, I do have other-color days.

Life is, after all,  a rainbow of colors.

Sadness can be in many colors and shades

But joy can, too.

Coloured air balloons




Where exactly is it? That ache that isn’t “real.”

The feeling of alone-ness

I hold and now reveal.


In the heart or chest somewhere

the heaviness sits hard

No respite for this weary soul

Yet, often, I’m off guard


Vices do I grab

To nothingness I hold

Weariness like weights

Inside me till I’m old






I just spun around in my office chair – not once but over and over. My eyes closed tightly, my feet moving to keep the momentum. I was back in my childhood, when I’d spin on anything with a rope or chain. I was a notorious spinner on swings.

When I opened my eyes after going round in my office chair, I felt momentarily dizzy. Yet I smiled and remembered having a Kool-aid moustache, tousled ponytail, and tanned skin from spending days in the sun, playing, riding bikes . . . and spinning.


Wherever I Choose

Wherever I Choose


The ocean’s salty brine. Its cool and rhythmic waves. Sounds of seagulls, sandpipers, and faraway ships. I’m there in my mind.


Atop the breezy mountain. Among a field full of Black-eyed Susans. East Texas sand beneath my feet. The scent of watermelon in my lunch pail. I’m there in my mind.


It can take me anywhere – show me anything. Living in the moment . . . wherever I choose.

Toxins in My Tears – A Poem


(photo from


Maybe if I cry hard enough for long enough, I can get rid of ALL of the toxic feelings inside my chest.

Maybe that knot will go away. Just maybe the gnawing will subside.

There are toxins in our tears. Did you know that?

Tears of stress or grief . . . release toxins and bacteria.

I should be clean enough to stop the pain I carry around but it hasn’t happened. How do I cry enough?  I’ve shed more than my share of tears. What IS my share?

So, I fight the inner feeling that makes me feel like there is no beauty in the sun on the autumn lawn or the soft music coming from my laptop.

The fall leaves don’t matter – yellow or red. Used to be my favorite season. Now, I wonder if I’ll see another autumn and realize I don’t really even care.


I am better today. That was yesterday.

Oh, the difference a day makes.

A Poem – The Cricket and The Ant


I had to memorize and then perform the French version of this poem in high school – for a contest. it was brutal but I still have memorized the first half of this poem!,3946


La Cigale et la Fourmi

The Cricket and the Ant

 La cigale, ayant chanté  The cricket, having spent the summer
 Tout l’été,  Singing
 Se trouva fort dépourvue  Found herself short of supplies
 Quand la bise fut venue :  When the east wind began to blow.
 Pas un seul petit morceau  Not a single scrap
 De mouche ou de vermisseau :  Of fly or wriggly grub.
 Elle alla crier famine  She went to plead famine
 Chez la fourmi sa voisine,  With her neighbour the ant,
 La priant de lui prêter  Begging her to lend her
 Quelque grain pour subsister  A few grains to keep her alive
 Jusqu’à la saison nouvelle :  Until the coming spring.
 Je vous paierai, lui dit-elle,  I will pay you back, she said,
 Avant l’août, foi d’animal,  Before August, on my word as an animal,
 Intérêt et principal.  Interest and Principal.
 La fourmi n’est pas prêteuse ;  The ant does not like to lend,
 C’est la son moindre défaut :  That is the least of her weaknesses:
 Que faisiez-vous au temps chaud ?  What did you do in the warm weather?
 Dit-elle a cette emprunteuse,  Said she to the would-be borrower.
 Nuit et jour à tout venant Night and day, to every passerby,
Je chantais, ne vous déplaise. I sang, may it please you.
Vous chantiez ! j’en suis fort aise. You sang, I am glad to hear it.
 Et bien, dansez maintenant.  Very well, now you may dance.