The essence of my being
Is superficial at best
Barely registering on the Richter scale
Of mindfulness.

When I do delve a bit deeper
I am surprised at the artifice,
And disappointed at my shallowness~
While, at the same time recognizing that one can………….

drown in a puddle.

Published in: on April 13, 2014 at 5:03 pm  Comments (9)  
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my momma told me there would be days like this–my momma said…..



blank page before me

a layer of blank white outside

blank brain sputters and hesitates

to spit out meaningful words,

grasping at clichés

reaching for metaphors ~

white flag flutters

no more reaching and grasping.

Published in: on January 30, 2014 at 2:34 pm  Comments (13)  
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Frozen Souls


Sadness permeates

Frozen winter souls

A warm thaw of hope

Melts the core ~

Published in: on January 21, 2014 at 4:27 pm  Comments (25)  
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Grey Sky as far as the eye can see

Grey Sky as far as the eye can see (Photo credit: Etrusia UK)

Cascades of grey clouds

Formed mountains in the dawn sky

Looming, ominous

Published in: on October 24, 2013 at 5:45 pm  Comments (17)  
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Welcome Change

Hidden secrets lie

In gentle change of seasons

Mystery ahead

Published in: on October 23, 2013 at 12:24 pm  Comments (7)  
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Appealing early-autumn.

Appealing early-autumn. (Photo credit: Bishwo Ghimire)

The season’s veil lifts

Summer melds into autumn

Mystery unfolds.

Published in: on September 5, 2013 at 1:54 pm  Comments (10)  
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So Many………….

endless possiblities

endless possiblities (Photo credit: PinkMoose)


Endless possibilities


Sometime when I write a haiku I cannot break some words down into syllables. I think possibilities is five syllables—what do you think?  Okay, some of you are going to tell me to check it out in the dictionary. So I will.

Be back in a moment……………

Okay, so it is five syllables. And it is also defined as “the potential for successful future development”. That is what I was going for.

Its cousins (or synonyms if you will) are: options, likelihood, opportunities, prospects, risks, odds, chances, and probabilities. But probability is not at all what I was going for—if something is probable it might happen or might not; possibilities seem more open and likely to happen.

What do you think? Do you like the word possibility or probability?

Published in: on August 8, 2013 at 1:02 pm  Comments (24)  
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6:30 a.m.

Dawn over Moreton Bay-1=

Dawn  (Photo credit: Sheba_Also)

Dawn. Sun bursts faintly ~

Builds to a bright crescendo

Lighting reality.

Published in: on July 19, 2013 at 12:28 pm  Comments (11)  
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Our most popular cake. Of course anything choc...

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

This is the first of my dedication posts. I will choose one lucky recipient a week to receive one of my fractured haiku.

Dedicated to Ms. Loony:

This delicate and highly philosophical  haiku is dedicated to my friend Cindy of photosfromtheloonybin. Needless to say she loves chocolate cake. And is a great photographer. Check her out on Fridays–she has a mystery photo post she submits every week that is designed to stump us. I think I have guessed correctly twice–and that is only because I looked at the other comments.


The very essence

Of my being calls out for

More chocolate cake.

Published in: on May 15, 2013 at 1:35 pm  Comments (37)  
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Too Normal

William Blake's "The Tyger," publish...

William Blake’s “The Tyger,” published in his Songs of Innocence and of Experience is a work of Romanticism (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

“Just because you haven’t seen something—doesn’t mean it’s not there.” ~ Narrator from movie “Epic”

One would think I would not go near the genre of poetry after last month’s demand of one a day, but this “poem” is one I wrote a few years ago and it reflects the fact that I want to live a more fanciful and magical life.

 I am a believer, I have faith, and I have hope, but none of these things come easily—hence the poem. I think by now you recognize me as a prose poet rather than one who follows rules, or writes pretty verse (though I would like to make that rise).

Here is the preamble I wrote to the poem “Too Normal”. Note to readers: you will not recognize this type of poetry. It is from the school of fractured thoughts, lack of discipline, metreless cadence, and incandescent whimsy:


Too Normal

My feet

are planted solidly on the ground

mired in the mud of

my own disbelief


My brain

will not accept

what it cannot explain ~

and it cannot explain a lot


I say I am open to the

spirits, the muses

the fairies

and the hobgoblins


But I am only of this physical world

Aware of what I can see,

feel, smell, hear

or taste.


Blind to anything I cannot see

Oblivious to everything but the obvious

I still have hope

that something will sway me

Move me

Make me believe

beyond a shadow of a doubt.


I want to believe

there is something



I do.


Bliss is being sure of what you believe—I have not achieved this totally yet—have you?

Published in: on May 14, 2013 at 12:22 pm  Comments (50)  
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