looking down without mo(u)rning

with an infomercial
playing on about
weight loss—I
see you. eating
a peanut butter
& raspberry jelly
sandwich, you
are suddenly
awoken & gazing
in my eyes, before
laying back down.
golden girls comes
on the screen & i want
tears falling, but they
don’t—only sting you
are gone.

i love how Jesus holds me when I go back to a memory. when my grandma was here, she used to watch Golden Girls, or read the paper while I ate a chocolate muffin my grandpa and uncle picked out. sometimes it was healthy… most of the time, chocolate was it. so, i’d be sitting in the chair in the family room, while she’d be on the couch reading. i’d watch some of the show, but I was always struck by how she sat and read. really, being in her presence. i loved the morning quiet where we never had to talk. when we did, she typically told me good morning and i jumped.

she asked me a lot why i never said good morning   was i scared? yes. i don’t know why. i think maybe though it was excitement.. i’d get to sit with her. i don’t know why I miss this so much. or why another person can remind me of so much. unknowingly, too.

Void, How You Play That Minor Chord

She wakes me out,

up from dreamless


What’s the buzzing?

A flood warning, my

muscles tighten,

expanding fear.

I must turn off instinct.

Light flashes a tremble

across my soul, small.

Half awake, I ask mother,

who or why they need alert.

Her voice absent agitation

I expel through sighs, silence,

daily angry bursts, says people

who are driving need to know.

I am pulled under rain’s influence—

no, God’s insistence would be more


I wish deny for voicing this concern.

Will we die? Another ark need built?

I don’t know why I think of Noah, but I woke

later this morning, ached sockets reading,

Be strong & courageous (breathe in)

do not be afraid, or terrified

(only raindrops)

God goes with you,

(under Comforter, I’ll still.)

He will never leave

(can’t hear my heart)

nor forsake you

(a child, I am)

I heard a baby cry,

little bird song

I don’t have

desire sing.

Yesterday Morning

I rise in bed
wet & cold.

Whorton does not hear
a who, but collects the what
down my left pajama leg.

Cat pee.

Frustration pumps out my heart
and slides off my tongue.


The cat sits in front of me,
green eyes & grey fur.

What? Asked silently before
a sandpaper tongue scratches
my forehead.

Whorton says, a person
is a person no matter how small.

I wonder if this elephant
would say, a cat is still a cat,
no matter how out of her element
she may be.

Walking Ode

I wake up today.

Sit up & leaned

my feet over bed’s edge

to the carpeted floor.

I stare in the quiet,

a minute before

he opens the door.

Hey, what are you doing?

I shake my head.


Let’s take the dog

for a walk.

I put on gray jeans

& my red and white

flat footed shoes.

I get to the sidewalk’s

endpoint, when I’m told:

Spread your feet further


Take bigger strides.

Move your hips.

Don’t stop.

Keep moving.

My big toes burn.

I miss a steady pace.

I love the sentiment.

I can’t breathe.

I’m wheezing.

Jesus, I’m molasses.

He’s right.

Even when I’m trying

to walk “normally”

I’m going .2 mph.

I’m sweating.

I can do this.

Watch the sidewalk.

His waiting face.

Asking me to hurry.

Tears welling.

I’m going to throw up.



Just imagine Celebrate Freedom

is right over there.

I smell flowers walking up

the driveway.

I walk in the house.

Water. Blessed water.

I thank him.

He says, mhm.

I sip more.

Now, I lay here.

A cat against my knee.

The quiet throb

of two uneven blood

blisters on each big toe.

Those flat shoes

a mistake waiting

release in coming days.

Slow & steady

didn’t win the race



On this porch swing,
I am alone, save birdsong
and the weepies singing
about the world spinning
madly on.

Now, the song has changed-
when I’m with You, Heaven
comes closer, my breathes
sacred. Jesus. Sweet refrain.

And here again another.
You are gazing, compassion
befallen Your face. I don’t understand.

I have come to strengthen you
with raisins. The best for My
Beloved. I wish to hear of your morning.

I am self-pity full. I wish to run
with nowhere to go. I’m afraid
my dreams have no hope being

I spend hours writing my guilt,
my need, my want, fear, shame.
I’m confused because these voices
won’t quiet. Yours is overshadowed
so easily.

I have drawn you in love. Sit here, I will hold you close. Deliverance
is in My hands. Hold them. Never let go.

When I’m Most Awake

This morning I walked out
to the kitchen table, dazed.
My quad cane steadying
my body, until somehow,
I fell.

I felt my left foot
kick the prong,
my ribcage colliding
with black metal.

Loss of breath.

I sat up, my body
held in the empty
between two legs.
Almost a hug,
God’s silent: I got you.

I breathe,
my bones writhen
in pain.
My hand held
through this unexpected

Side note: I find this hilarious that this happened before I knew what the Word of the Day was. 😉

After Watching Bukowski

He speaks alcoholically-
unwound about how one
resents being pushed,
movements unnatural
to their own.

Kind-hearted people
give out chances relentlessly,
because that’s what they do.
Extend mercy-seventy times
seven to everyone undeserving,
fallen from the same mistake as
Adam & Eve.

I failed again today-
missed the deadline
to apply myself,
learn form, rule,
regulation. Get
a college degree
declaring I can
make money
in something.

I’ve had two years
and I went begrudgingly.
All I knew was panic
when deadlines were close.
Everything that interested me
I was told would never earn
a steady living.
Philosophy and literature.

They said, pick something like
business, finance, psychology.
My brain perplexed,
while my heart said, stay.
I ran to the wilderness
shortly after that day.

Now, I’m languishing
because I don’t want to go
society’s way, but I can’t
live off social security.

I can’t do nothing,
I must live without resisting.
Why is it money has no appeal,
yet poverty is much more alluring,
& frightening?

Green in my wallet,
I give away.
No push I must obey.
Or resentment needing

Chance is merely a leading-
give away what was never
mine to begin with,
action speaking,
I love you.

I wait here in my smallness.

Today will bring new shine,
absent shadow nor sway.
Gentlest encouragement
taking my self-condemnation
to meet the rain of this day.