Sunday, November 4, 2018

Tis of Thee

shooting up synagogues
teaching hate is great again
is not American

written: 11/03/18

I get a lot of poems from listening to NPR.

Friday, October 26, 2018

the leech

she sees reflected
a huge, pulsating, grey leech
attached to her

she looks down
at the man down on
her and sighs

just a dude
the guy I picked up
the cute blonde

but in the
mirror, he looks different and
she feels numb

he hasn't arms
no legs or feet or
any recognizable features

she feels heat
his warm, wet, hot breath
and another sensation

shifting her hips
she feels him press harder
he bites her

"ow," she murmurs
but softly, encouragingly, he continues
she wants more

her heavy eyes
look again to the mirror
her body limp

the leech is
growing-filling with her blood
she can't move

her eyes close
she is close to coming
her pleasure pulsates

her life empties
into the round, tooth-filled mouth
of the leech

as she dies
his greed consumes him and
the leech pops.

written: 10/18-22/18

I had a thought, what if vampires really look like leeches, and that is what is reflected?  And thus, the leech was born.  I wrote in bits over a few days, which is rare for me to do with a poem. I also wrote it as a series of Collom Lunes, because it is my form of choice. (I love those little fuckers!) There is probably some sort of metaphor for my Depression here, but I am hoping that I am finally past the I-may-die-from-this part of my illness. Anyway... I wish that I could draw, because the visual of the leech in my head is pretty gross and I wish I could post it here. I may try to draw it anyway and see if I can come close to my vision. 

Thursday, October 25, 2018


Keeping trees alive
To harvest their blood, for our
Pancakes and waffles.

written: 9/24/15

So Facebook reminded me that I tweeted this poem a few years ago and it cracked me up. I didn't remember it at all and it was one of those moments when I thought I just might be talented. And if not talented, then I am still so fucking funny. I named it Maple here because I don't tend to title my twitter poems, but that feels naked without a title here. 

Monday, October 1, 2018

Who I Want to Be

I want to be The Dr.'s Vincent
Creating beauty from the pain
Joy from the Storm

But I am not there yet
My fingers touch the keys
And what flows is just my pain
Lacking any ability to see light

I want to write of how much
I hate her
In her ignorance
And undeserved power
But have it transform

I want to write of how much
He broke my heart
And how mad I am at him
And his false accusations
But have it transform

I want to write of how
Fundamentally stupid I find her
And how she refuses to see the real me
And the real her
But have it transform

I want to write of how much
I still miss him every damn day
Even though he has been gone so long
And happy not being here
But have it transform.

I want to pull myself
I want to transform.

written: 10/01/18

So mainly what has happened here is that I did not adjust well to the change in my antidepressant. I went from feeling apathy and hopelessness to ALL the feelings, ALL at once. It was overwhelming to say the least. This was a temper tantrum I had after my husband fell asleep before washing the dishes after he promised that he would. (Bless his heart). Shortly after this, I called my doctor and we lowered my dosage and now I can feel appropriate things at appropriate times. I want to just delete this post because it embarrasses me, but that seems dishonest. If I am going to be confessionalist (which seems to be my goto), then every now and then I am going to post something embarrassing. 

Sunday, September 23, 2018


How brave you must be
  to wrap yourself up
  cocooned in a chrysallis
  and melt into yourself
  to become something new
  to become who you are.

written: 9/17/18

Baby steps, y'all.  No promises. 

Wednesday, April 11, 2018

#NaPoWriMo Day Eleven: Puppies

sweet black dogs
curled up together sleeping sound
dreaming doggie dreams.

written: 4/11/18 for NaPoWriMo/GloPoWriMo

I needed something a little light after all the heavy writing.

#NaPoWriMo Day Ten: Behind

I completed
job application
Joann Fabric and Craft
and it took me three hours.

I hate to
job applications
I can never remember the dates correctly
and all I see

I went to my daughter's IEP
and cried.
I have poeming and blogging it dutifully
I applied for the damn job
I have been cooking every damn day
and clearing up after
I rigged a bucket/bin/plunger/clothesline situation
so I could spend three hours
washing maybe 20 articles of clothes.

And I just want a break. Silence. I want no expectations of me for just

Because all of that up there are things I got done, that I couldn't have a short while ago
and I really want someone to say "good job, Heidi"
but I'm not getting that because it seems like it isn't enough.
and that I am even now
at being depressed?

Why am I never good enough?

written: 4/11/18 for NaPoWriMo/GloPoWriMo

**shudders** Damn. That wasn't fun to write!

Monday, April 9, 2018

#NaPoWriMo Day Nine:

world so busy
so much noise closing in
i miss silence.
written: 4/9/18 for NaPoWriMo/ GloPoWriMo.

Off prompt, and I could use a game of quiet mouse.

Sunday, April 8, 2018

#NaPoWriMo Day Eight: Conversationalist

so many words
in such a small kid
every day Eli
written: 4/8/18 for /GloPoWriMo

I'm off prompt again. I was listening to my son talk to his dad while trying to think of something to write. He is an inspirational, and funny, little fellow. Did you know the anaconda is the largest snake in the world? And it's not venomous! My little herpatologist.

Saturday, April 7, 2018

#NaPoWriMo Day Seven: A Small Break

a day off
without the necessity of another
seventy-two hour commitment.
written: 4/7/18 for NaPoWriMo/ GloPoWriMo

So it's just never a good thing when you look back on your "voluntary" commitment as some of the best rest ever. But I really could use some days off, just without any precipitating self-harm. You know, a vacation.