February 28, 2024
SLO Tattoo
February 21, 2024
HRT
show me yes
show me no
show me
I don't know
third time
patch slips
not going to
fix this
rub bellies
lube jellies
warm up
cool down
tired of weeping
not sleeping
nightmares
February 7, 2024
Changing Woman
Changing Woman: Poems 2007 - 2016
Kayla used to be a priestess of Aphrodite, but she was such a bitch - all those lessons in love, including jealousy, heartache, misery, and despair. Now she is the Priestess of Laphrodite, Goddess of the Belly laugh. Laughter is the best medicine, but as far as Kayla was concerned, it's also the best lube. Reflecting a time of questing and questioning for our Baby Crone, she changes careers, discovers online dating, and fuels her passion for blogging.
January 10, 2024
January 3, 2024
Tendrils of Belief
November 22, 2023
Super Blood Wolf
Full moon, lunar eclipse
Sun on my descendant, moon on my rising
What does it mean
To have the full blaze of the sun
Ye to be eaten
By earth's shadow
Spit up, vomited,
Regurgitated on the other side
Either way
I howl
I show
I'm different
Sun a shield at my back
Protecting my tender entrails
Soft belly
The moon a mirror
Facing outwards
While I murmur the stories
All see their own reflection
If the words are sung right
And you ask the right questions
I am in the Earth's shadow
Eating a blood orange
No longer in the limelight
Prenumberal rebirth
A small voice whispers
Take pride, put yourself out there
Embrace being different
How else can
We experience sameness
Astrology is not prophetic
More like
Poetic
November 15, 2023
Pandemic Blues Review
Reviewed in the United States on August 21, 2023
November 1, 2023
Day of the Dead
Tuesday
It was 112 degrees
As we sped through the valley
Calculating every minute
Before visiting hours were over
October 25, 2023
Intern
It took me a few times
To curl my tongue
Around your name
Encrypt
My minds script
Saying I meditate
Is like
Saying I exercise
Begs questions
What form
How often
What does it bring
I don't usually
Blurt out my story
As I sort
Plastic macro
Charismatic fauna
Into plastic bins
But when I saw your
Pearlescent fingernail polish
I knew I was safe
October 18, 2023
Clarifiers
What do I need
I don't know
It will come to me
Just like the crows
They act as if
There's something
I need as I compost
Camelias
Pulling the sour yellow
Oxalis bursting
Next year's deep
Brown seed
Pods
Lemon verbena
Always exuberant, sassy
I hear my mom's voice
Only retired people
Spend their time
Pruning the
Geraniums
Tiny daddy-long-legs on
My knee, are you
Papa “Leg”-ba
Dad joke
He whispers
Don't give away the farm
Go slow
Little turtle
Go slower
Welcome the Tower
Clean slate
See the
Stars
November 9, 2022
Vibrissae
A Collection of Cats, Facts and Whiskers
October 19, 2022
Clearing
Right now I am looking at the cutest baby.
Right now I am safe.
Right now I am the Queen,
Observing from her protected box.
Today I removed the dusty veils, old plastic ivy.
Changed the curtains,
Created more light, more space, more
I inspired another healer.
I mentored.
I created beauty.
Clearing, clear, clearing, clear
In this moment, there is no fear
I trust my heart, I trust my gut,
I know just how to get out of this rut.
False evidence appearing real
I know just what I feel
I doubt the doubts, I know my truth
I am present, sky to root
I am heart, I am compassion,
I know just what I am tested in,
Feels like patience, always waiting,
Wondering when is it my turn, anticipating.
Experiencing stillness, keeping the quiet,
Trying not to be silenced, not to buy it.
Staying balanced, in my form,
Not buying into the norm.
September 28, 2022
Vivid Verbs
Welcome mat, searing her feet.
Grease trap, broiling over.
Old faded couch, peeling like a bad tan.
Mincing down the street, the cat looked smashing.
Peeling off her mask was the first step.
August 23, 2022
February 21, 2022
Empty Place
Right now besides for a few tatters of gray mist,
The sky is empty, gently sun-kissed,
A streak of salmon in the west,
Peaceful blues paint in the rest.
Even red-tailed hawks and gulls are gone,
Not a spout or a sail out on the horizon,
The ocean seems empty, flat, glassine,
Teeming with life only in the depths unseen.
The field below is quiet and clear,
Except for the scuttling of rabbits, quail, and deer,
Buzzing bees, ravens, the squawking of jays,
Hummingbirds coming to visit the velvety sage.
There's just a circle of chairs in the chapter room,
Filled with a scent of Easter lilies in bloom,
Deep red roses, white daisies and baby's breath,
In the center is the altar honoring life and death.
My cup is dried, bowl washed and put away,
Floor is swept, the bed has been made,
Nothing to do, but enjoy this sacred space,
Think I'll call it, "My empty place."