Chorus of Blue

Freewrite: Ennui #1

Posted by in Writing

I sitin the box, legs cocked up in rebellion the sunroof wide openlike the thighs of a hookerletting in heat; or the roar of the wind breaking. I sit in skinny jeans and tan socksbecause I want to be what I used to be but I’m not. So also, a long dress that falls mid-shinand shell top shoes still intact on the broad side. I wantto get out of hereto take a moment for teaand attention to breath to get lost in the bird talk I long to decipher. But…read more


Freewrite: Lament

Posted by in Writing

Mourning the Drop- Like dew, evaporatedDissipating: a flock of birdsScattered in the sun Or- Spinning through a rainstormThe the halted quiet: overpassAll the mercy in that momentIn an instant: gone. What sudden sadness is this?Thick and wavering;The weight of my lament:This crushing heart-song? All those chemicalsSwirling indiscriminateSo wicked, so heartless With a wave of disregard Rise up! I say. Welcome!What joy! What merriment! Dopamine! Oxytocin! Come! Come! Come! Taunting me with alwaysAnd leaving me with never; He made us in pairs, they sayHow cruel, says the heart.


Posted by in Writing

Thunder claps and groans:
Drives me -in a frenzy-
to the balcony
A deluge of rain
along the mosaic banister

I arrange crates
the tiny glass table
I have grown to love

Light cheap incense

FREEWRITE: An Arrangement

Posted by in Freewrites, Poetry, Poetry, Writing

You ask me to consider an arrangementI have always liked daffodils, after allEven if they no longer smell sweet. So I stare at them, frozen in timeBrightening up the corner of a dark roomIn a dull, familiar way. You ask me to consider this arrangementIn lieu of any other; to settle upon almost lovelyInstead of fresh and new and slated to die You imply the risk, it is not directly statedOr maybe that part is me and my own apprehensionsSo many new arrangements have wilted and died. And you insist…read more

Freewrite: The Mistake of Stillness

Posted by in Poetry, Writing

She found me againThough I’ve hidden with busy handsAnd every moment filled with mustsShe settled in on my heartover coffee and the mistake of stillness I’ve lied. I hide from the writingbecause I know what it brings.And I want to feel like William(Lonely, lonely! And best so!)But my heart longs for moreSadness makes for bitter company. So I will work with the fervency of the manicMy mind frantic with lists and absolutesI will work til someone drags me like a drunkardto a filthy unkempt bedI will work up to the edge of…read more