Category Archives: poems

Dancer First on the Floor, Debi

Back then, we had sunburned tips of noses,

sand permanently stuck to feet.

Dinner, a pig pulled and dressed,

Sat abandoned on paper plates.

Sacrifice meant nothing as waves

Crashed near, and the skim of the pool

Wobbled gently.


A standing speaker lept alive.

Soulful beats familiar thanks to dad.

But I was afraid.


Afraid of my height, of my body and how it would

Move wrong or freeze. Afraid of an empty, chlorinated

Dance floor that could swallow me whole.


Did you know this fear? We never saw.

Instead, you charged ahead.

A dancer first on the floor,

celebrity in style, grace and light.

You the heartbeat and we now rushing cells.


How we danced! Your bronzed arms

Swinging front to back. Legs in rhythmic

Steps side to side. Husband across

Matching each joyful bounce. Your ever-widening

Smile an invitation to join

a life of frequency spun open like a feast.


Each song was a gift

and I suddenly lifted from the puddles.


There in North Carolina,

You taught me to be free.

How to harness a deep energy and then, pass it along.


We like ripples danced

until music became goodbye.

Us cousins, tired and sated, followed

like ducklings back over the boards

to a home temporarily by the sea.


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Filed under family, poem, poems, poet, poetry, poets, poety, tradition, women, words

Fiercely, we hold on

We are never more rooted
in this big universe than
when our eyes sting and
our heads hang heavy for loss.

When we, a procession of sun
glasses, watch, shifting feet,
as life disappears back into
those thick familiar arms.

Our backs, clothed in black,
savor warmth, unaware that
we are at once joyful and empty,
and crying for ourselves

mirrored in the lowering. How
we know deeply: absence
of something weighs more than
substance, and we fiercely hold on.

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Filed under dead, death, poem, poems, poet, poetry, poets, Uncategorized

Poetry List for May

I apologize readers for the lack of poetry! I’ve compiled a few from Mays gone by to keep you going while I get myself together and start writing again ūüôā

coal and chalk

untitled (good intentions)

agoraphobia (my second try)

black eyeliner morning

did Alice have a choice?

the way this art makes me feel

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Midnight Streets

We were born to roam midnight streets
to leave sticky notes of jazz on exuberant thighs
stopped beneath streetlights of dancing rays
gnawing here and there, tipping them back, tossing aside.

We die each hour of impending day but
the streets become a blues pulse, thumping. Again,
hold on to¬†night’s desperation and grind slow
into cobblestones content with the hour still late, late, late.

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August poems from the past

August poems from the past (2011, 2012) – your Friday poetry round-up!

Quietly Disappearing (To Mia) 

written by an old woman

great grandmother (written by my great grandmother Alice B Johnson)

earthquake: the end is near


complex jazz notes






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Book of Etiquette – Take 2

let’s take a look at one posted some time ago called “Book of Etiquette

thoughts? has anyone read this book? better yet, read and followed it? hehe.
enjoy the evening! poetry will be back as soon as i dig out of work………….

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some love poems… or my version of love at least

Girlhood Crush, Regressing

Like my skin bursts away

To Be In Love

Elton John for Valentine’s Day

How They Hang On

Your Voice Glistens

Happy Valentine’s Day my lovely readers ūüôā love love love…. la la la…..

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