Category Archives: Word Doodles

all a moon has ever meant

call me unexpectedly
because you heard; read; saw
something so beautiful
that you must share it with me
because, you say,
it could only be lovelier
if it were a part of me, too


Land Ahead

The anchors of our hearts brought us through the daunting billows of tumultuous times,
where we now have torn down,
brick by chain
and chain
the imprisoning hesitations of diving into each other’s very souls.
Your words, like waves, wash over me and recede,
leaving a feeling of profound okayness,
an overwhelming rightness
on the shores of my spirit.
my chaotic habits and anxious inhibitions
and sink
amongst the shipwrecks,
tangle in the seaweed,
and in time become forgotten in the

All this way
no compass on board,
yet I see land ahead.
And when our toes  meet the shore
and our lungs secure the sky of the world
we won’t have a clue where we are.

Exhaling all that we have within us,
we will rest in the peace
that it doesn’t matter.

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December, be good to me.

the first snow.
I love it.
When you walk outside into this wondrous scene, everything
is quiet.
Even the air your lungs try to obtain seems to be far away from you,
holding its breath.
All you can hear is your own boots shuffling along on the concrete sidewalks
and a little place in your mind is sure that time really has stopped, and you don’t even need to go to class
or that you might be the only person left on this planet.
or that perhaps you’ve finally gone deaf.
But you’re walking,
and it comes to mind that you want to be walking with some one.
Now, I don’t care who it is, or what your relationship is like,
but you want them with you.
Perhaps smiling at you over a steaming mug of stupendous hot cocoa,
or speculating about the best defense strategy were you to get ambushed by snowball-throwers.
Or, even some one to there to catch you if you slip.
and you’re never sure if that electrifying jolt of adrenaline is because you nearly fell,
or from their arms protecting you
from melting away
seeping into puddles and icicles and snowflakes and trees
Whether you prefer indoors or outdoors in wintertime, walking inside is so much better this time of year.
the rush of warmth,
the heat hugging you enveloping you
it’s cozyand the white dust in everyone’s hair
and you are all left with damp, imperfect tendrils
and rosy cheeks
and cold noses
All the energy and lightness
the Christmas trees(!)
and sweet Christmas lights (!!)
and the giving and the getting and the glowing
and the loving and the lighting and the listening
and the sweets and the songs that get stuck in your head
“bury me in your quiet love
and we
will blow
breath becomes visible
as if a reminder
that you are doing something.
that you are living.
that you are here.
and that the air you’re breathing and living on is the same air sustaining every other person
As for me,
I’m a snowfall kind of girl.
indoors, outdoors, cuddling, curled alone with a book
it’s all for me
is all for me
and better call me inside
or I will become part of the snow.

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Show me your scars from the
into them.
And if you would join me, we couldwould stroll along the
that lie beneath, as secret passages.

Like pheonix tears,
our words kisses love
where we’re sore,
where the skin’s rubbed raw
from wringing our hands
(sometimes with our hearts in them)

And as the world begins to mist, you’ll say that kissing in the rain has always
   intrigued you
and I’ll agree there’s an appeal,
but I’ll confess that I prefer how
 close you have to hold me
to share an umbrella.

A Work of Art

They say that art
isn’t about how it looks,
it’s about how it makes us feel.
When you called me a work of art,
this is what I thought of.

That doesn’t bother me as much as I thought it would.


wash over me
i fear not
the erosion
let the
future scientists
take their
soul samples
to figure out
what happened
was there
and when you
go away
let me
the residue
left behind
is a choice
a souvenir
the moment
i want you
full force
direct hit
i can handle
the capricious
gusts of wind
causing the battering
of sometimes
and then
you’re a story
late night
near closing
dueling tales
of near-misses
that become
more near
and barely
through time
preternatural disasters
left fading
wrinkled scars
it was rough
i tell ya
and they marvel
loudly through
quiet nods
and i
out the window

via peter dewolfe

Up In The Air

We were out past the time when even the stop lights go to sleep and blink an absent yellow.
The effect of the film still reverberated in our minds
and a song with lyrics that perfectly apply to our life at the moment, that might as well have been
written for us,
snuck onto the airwaves.
But we don’t notice until the love song followed it.
The cruise control was saving us from my lead foot.

And the only thing you mentioned was how we managed to hit more potholes than we dodged.


I’m not ignoring you.
Just your text message.
Your existence is far too poignant for my conscience to resist.
I can’t resist remembering you don’t read my blog
or like my hair
but you love it when we’re cudding and my
eyelashes tickle your neck when I blink.

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Protected: “You could say that”

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