Latest Musings

  • My name is Daisy

    and I don’t understand the budsor the blossoms. I don’t knowhow to make kombucha or friendshipbracelets. Friendship too can be so hardto maintain on some days, but mostlyit is my… Read more

  • History Will Remember Me (or at least the last three days)

    3. How much caffeine in a single coffee bean?Queerhow to use colons?Vibrant synonym mochi near me. 2. Whirling Dervisheslos logrosroadrunner bird Bukowski love poemsBig Thief tour ticketsNorth Country Trail AdeleMichael… Read more

  • Brief, About Love

    My love I have not raised it as an explosion, ticking toward a finite and violent end. There will be no countdown, there will be no date or place in… Read more

  • My Friend Fear

    I get tired of watching people watch me, with their creative eyes that decipher and decide which kind of person I am, which traits and attributes align into one succinctly… Read more

  • Ode to Window (and Beyond)

    The wispy black locust tree leaves are in constant motion as I watch humbly from my window, uninterested in merging myself  with the world today. I could compare myself to … Read more

  • The Paddleless Boat

    The cold morning rises and I know that this is the day for departure. I hear the phantom fall of the black waves against the jutting land and the pebbled… Read more

  • Welcome to Los Angeles

    He, shining in the sun that glows behind the haze of memory that envelops me  as I recall when we  drove through the summer streets to see what it would… Read more

  • Whole

    Can we be holy whole and loved and  legitimate, even in the shadows of belief and dogmatic  horseshit running  rampantly around? Can I be given grace when my heart aches … Read more

  • Onward

    I suppose that someday, time leaves us all behind. We, wrapped in the illusory containment of identity and ownership and belonging to which there is no justification but the tenderness… Read more

  • Benefits of an Oversized Coat:

    My coat is an XL, and on my M frame it bulks my shoulders and arms, making my middle a question mark of mush and wool and rubber. It hangs… Read more

  • Altar

    We make altars of the people we lovelightning bugs and bookshelvesfaces frozen in printand ink and tree skinsthey are just paper in framewith faces we lovefaces with lips moving elsewhereor… Read more

  • FEAST

    Deep in the wooded night  bright eyes begin to open stretching sweetly into the humming dark ready for the black to yawn its gaping mouth, teeth sparkling across the sky.… Read more

Welcome to my blog!

Hearing people tell their authentic stories has always given me permission to live life exactly as I am. Telling stories unites us, so here are some of mine (-:

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