Don't worry your heart
over it. Nothing in this
world is definite.
Spooked not by ghosts
of the past, but of my
own heart's longing.
I don't know much, but
I know one thing for sure. The life of
a pirate is short.
It's eating all that
bread that makes me really
appreciate the cake.
If you don't have
something nice to say about someone
come sit by me.
Sitting beneath the
stars I could feel their heat like a
path straight to my heart.
The halls are full of
secrets and the walls know all
too well their dark hearts.
I'm like a machine.
A hard-workin', well oiled, turbo
charged machine.
My desk is the floor.
Right next to me: my daughter,
for whom I ghost-write.
Our past's not a place
to view failures, but the grounds
to raise expectations.
The more I think
about it the more I realize
everything's magic.
The skies portraying
my heart. Clouds, rain, a bit of
sun. Stormy weather.
"Morning sun stripes cell.
Five fingers feel my hard heart.
It hurts, hurts like hell."
-Frederick J. Frenger, Jr.
Spirits in the swamps,
spirits in the weeds, souls in the trees,
souls in the seas.
Just watching my little
TV in the kitchen, barefoot
and pregnant.
If I never wear
another pair of rain boots
it'll be too soon.
Some days there's so
much love inside me I have to
cry to get it out.
When I think of how
small I am in this big world
it gives me great comfort.
A poem for every
day. A day for every poem.
Today's that day.
My spirit animal
duals between the werewolf
and the unicorn.
Wearing my heart on
my sleeve, while it's heavy and
bare, you know me well.
Thinking about self.
Or selves, 'cause right now there's
lots of them to think of.
Some days a smile
and hello really is way too
much to ask of me.
The cowboy's truck broke
down under a streetlamp. Drawing
that much more attention.
The werewolf cannot
be held responsible for he
knows not what he does.
-Michael Hurley
Many times I have
wished that my dad would tell me
more about himself.
The moment when you
realize the life you've been living
must change. And fast.
There was once a time
when the rain comforted me,
but that is not now.
You know, even in
the game of Monopoly there's a
"share the wealth" card.
I haven't seen a
bird for days. Even they know
to move south each year.
Oh, I'd like to
get away. To a place where
nobody knows my name.
I don't regret a
whole lot, however, I should've
been a lounge singer.
There are times when I
want to fly away from everything
and everyone.
The babe inside me
knows no other home. Only
the waters he breathes.
The way the palm and
the pine were living together
made me happy.
If there's a will there's
a way. If there isn't that way
there's another way.
The layers of colored
mountains faded until they looked
like the sky.
There was a desert,
some snow, mountains, beaches and
then a rain forest.
There is a deep ache
that's hard to ignore at times
or most of the time.
Pulling my body
away from this desert is
like leaving a lover.
There was a quail on
a rock near the cactus and they
looked so pretty.
I felt like the
minority. I was the only one
without a tan.
The moon was so full
last night. Much like the sun was
the day before.
From afar it
looked like palm, but close up
it was more like rosemary.
I felt a kinship
to the tumbleweed.
Like we were on the same journey.
The land does not
belong to us, but rather we
belong to the land.
The red soil was
calling me, "Michelle, roll around in me.
Paint yourself red!"
The Texan sky is
so quiet you can only hear
those big, bright stars.
The heat makes me smile.
The sun makes me shine.
The desert is where I flower.
We learn from our past,
plan for our future and live
each day like it's the last.
I tried to write a
haiku for the mosquito. Instead
I just watched him.
Feeling like a lone
Northwestern star drifting through
this vast Lone Star state.
The sun, swollen and gold,
hovered over the land saying his
last goodnights.
We may lose more
often than we win, but rarely
do we give up.
