Write with TLC

Kit, Little Loves Forevermore  (for Kit ) Your sweetness and light Shined through every day Whether you were setting Or enforcing Your boundaries Snuggling Baby Or your humans Protecting your kitty siblings From doggies walking past Or your human Mama  F rom a garter snake in the yard Telling the vet who was boss At every single visit          Just in case he forgot Chirping at the birds in the yard           Or on the television screen Chasing the sunny spots in the house Or sitting in front of the blazing fireplace You were always So very regal in play or rest From the very first moment You chose our home as yours And us as your family You brought sweetness and light To our lives Making you  Then and forevermore Mama’s Little Loves Disclosure: This blog contains affiliate links meaning if you click on those links and make a purchase, I earn a commission at no additional cost to you. To learn more about me a...

We all experience grief. It is universal and unique all at once. Grief is devastating and grief is a gift. My forthcoming book of poetry, The Gift of Grief , (ebook available for preorder ) explores my journey through various bouts of grief. It took me a long time to embrace grief rather than fight it or ignore it or work to process it seeking an end date. Grief works on its own time. Embracing it brought me to a place where I could see the gift it brought to my life. I discovered that grief is something we learn to live with not something we process as a one-and-done. I really wanted to check off items to show progress like it was some kind of task list.  At times I felt like the waves of grief just couldn't end because as soon as I started feeling settled, I lost someone else, I sometimes felt like the grief was just too much. I began to realize this was probably true for many other people as well. Between 2020-2024, I grieved the deaths of several friends, myriad extended family...

Story of Todd (for Todd ) Todd May 14, 2009-February 2, 2024 Sleeping quietly All the others scampering Can’t take my eyes off Your little white and gray body Snuggled up against the edge I wait for you to wake up Keep glancing back Finally, I can’t wait any longer I pick you up Your brilliant blue eyes Capture my heart In less than a beat You yawn Not scared Not too excited Not agitated Settle in Home Bringing you home You bounce through the house With such enthusiasm Snuggles and pets Kneads and kisses Purring so much and so loud Always so happy Yet so very sensitive To noise To upheaval To chaos You loved hard You played hard You lived hard Always looking for a new challenge Entertaining yourself and us You were life personified Tenacious to the very end Loving to the very end Filling our hearts day after day Beyond the very end Disclosure: This blog contains affiliate links meaning if you click on tho...

  The End of Democracy Will we see  The end of democracy coming The warning signs Blowing through our lives Like a cold winter breeze Drifting the snow of democracy Into drifts that drown us In a sea of snowflakes Dirty with the fighting It takes to hold on to  The freedoms we Believe to be protected As we go about our lives Ignoring as each one erodes Trusting those we put in power To put people over power Forgetting the addictive power Of power Convince ourselves We can change courses At our next reset The reset we believe is always there But what happens when The new beginning promised Erases all signs of our choice Will we fight for our representation Or will we turn on one another Allow tyranny to erase every clue To the past we hold up as sacred To the tradition we swear matters To the myth of what we never were Will we fight to become a Better democracy or give in to become Ruled by the fear that gives power To greed and leaves us all Wishing for a world We imagine...

April is designated National Poetry Month . We are encouraged to celebrate poetry. by reading poetry, writing poetry, and sharing poetry. All poetry all the time for a month.  Then in May, we go back to our normal attitude toward poetry, whatever attitude that might be.  I'm fairly certain the intent is to remind people to embrace poetry all the time, but it doesn't seem to work that way.  People who truly love poetry, love poetry all year round. People who want to love poetry, tend to get nostalgic and determined during National Poetry Month. Those who hate poetry... Hhmmm! I guess they probably think National Poetry Month is a waste of time and energy, but I'm not really sure. Those who are apathetic toward poetry probably just don't notice National Poetry Month at all. As a reader of poetry, I appreciate the attention shift to poetry. I appreciate seeing poetry show up in places I didn't notice it before.  I appreciate people sharing poetry they normally wouldn...

I was reminded of this poem from my book, Reflections in Silhouette: Poems while working on the blog post, Masks of Me . I decided to share it. The Mask One day I put on a mask To make you love me Not because you asked But because I feared The look in your eyes Disappointment, I believe it was So I  Settled the mask into place Tweaked it Made it beautiful Perfected it to make you happy Created exactly what Made you smile Turned the look in your eye to approval Made you love me As time passed I deceived myself I accepted the mask as The real me I forgot who I was under The mask When the mask cracked As they will  I quickly – before anyone could see Plastered the cracks Filled in the holes Blended the paint Hid the damaged and weakened foundation Corrected its imperfections Settled the mask back into place When the mask slipped As they will I quickly – before anyone could see Pushed it around to make it fit Smoothed the borders Adjusted it so you wouldn’t notice Ignored the eve...

Me Me Me Meme May 7, 2009-March 31, 2021 (for Meme )   Your tiny face looked up Introducing you not by name But by attitude You would not be forgotten A week later you reminded us You belonged in our home And then you introduced yourself To the kitten in my arms Claimed him in your charming way And home with us you both came. This was your home On naughty days and nice days Your cute face looking up  Reintroducing yourself every time Making sure we never forgot you Knew who you were and what you wanted Always letting us know you chose us Until the very last moment When we had to let you go I hope you never regretted your choice We did our best to make your life  As wonderful as you made ours Every time you looked up and said Me me me…

Daddy with a few of the Case tractors he restored Idle Hands (for Daddy )   Never one for idle hands You created and built A lifetime of memories and moments You left behind a legacy Of love and hard work You handed your family The callouses you earned On hands never idle Held to the very end In love and understanding Your hands building and rebuilding Making the old new again Seeing the puzzle of the broken As a challenge to make whole again What others couldn’t see Those hands never idle Even to the very end Taking care of everyone With actions greater than words Rest now Let your loving, calloused hands finally be idle

I recently read A Collection of Poems by Robert Frost . It's a beautiful book and one I'd been salivating over for a while, ever since I saw it in Costco several months ago. It is filled with poems that speak to my heart, my imagination, my core. I was thumbing through one day while reading - yeah, I was looking ahead - and came across Nothing Gold Can Stay , and the first thought that popped in my head was "Stay gold, Ponyboy." I stopped in my tracks as a shiver went up my spine and a smile slid across my face. I remembered in that moment the first time I read The Outsiders   by S. E. Hinton . The first time I read Nothing Gold Can Stay in the book, The Outsiders , the first time I heard the poem aloud in the movie , the first time I read the letter at the end of the book, the first time I heard the letter at the end of the movie... Robert Frost and The Outsiders are forever linked in my memory because of this poem. S. E. Hinton used Nothing Gold Can Stay to...

Together Alone We sit so far away Yet so close in heart Every thought holds you near Every emotion gives me hope Every teardrop mends the tears I listen for your words As we stare into the sky Looking for ways to feel We aren’t so far apart I see you on the street Step aside – six feet Keep you safe Keep me safe So that one of these days All this time alone Will lead to us being together We’ve gotten through worse We’ve survived arguments and hurtful words We’ve gone our separate ways for far worse reasons Yet now as we contemplate when we’ll next see each other A virtual hug A virtual kiss A virtual cup of tea Is all we can give As we navigate this reality So that someday, some time in the future Hopefully sooner rather than later We can cross the street to stand Hand to hand Smile to smile Hug Kiss Drink a cup of tea Laugh about that time The one time when the world Forced us to be isolated When we had to find ways to be Together al...

This excerpt from the poem,  Dreams , by Langston Hughes hangs on my office wall. Poets play with perception when they write poetry making reading poetry another play in perception. When we read poetry we bring our own life experiences into play affecting our perception of the world around us. Poetry can shine a light on the world we inhabit in language that is sometimes more palatable than either fiction or nonfiction. Poetry can tease our hearts and minds with possible meanings and interpretations. Poetry can use imagery and emotion to effectively push readers to think about life from a different perspective. Many people have told me they don't read poetry because they don't understand poetry. I struggled to understand this until I started reading some of the "classic" poetry I'd avoided since college. Then I remembered how I used to think poetry was something I couldn't understand, and I got it. It changed the way I engaged with people who don...

Several of my teacher friends and others who work with youth have asked me if I have any ideas about how to get young people excited about poetry. I'm always a little surprised by the question. I write poetry. I don't teach poetry. Still, I find the question thought provoking. So I started thinking about what first got me excited about poetry... But, I can't remember. It seems to be poetry was always bubbling inside me. That said, I didn't always enjoy studying poetry, and there are times when I still don't understand the hubbub about one poet or another when I study their work. It happens. It's okay. The more I thought about it the more I came back to one single thing. Find the poetry in your audience's, aka your class's, life. Show them the poetry in songs, in commercials, in the nursery rhymes of their youth. Show them poetry by contemporary poets before asking them to dissect poems filled with language that feels foreign to them. While I don...

Shame... Shame on you... Shame on me... You have no shame... Shame... Sighs! I am not ashamed of who I am or my life experiences. I am not ashamed... And, yet, there have been far too many moments of my life lived in shame, lived in the shame of someone else's perception of my existence and my experiences. We all have. We wear shame like a prism of everything we've done wrong shrinking us into our smallest selves and projecting reasons to not be loved into the world. I recently read I Thought It Was Just Me (But It Isn't): Making the Journey from "What Will People Think?" to "I Am Enough" by Brené Brown (read my review ). When I started it, I had no intention of doing the exercises; however, I quickly changed my mind. As I read I realized that to have the full experience, to truly understand the book, I needed to do the exercises. Still, to be honest, I didn't expect to get much out of it...  After all, I'd already done this work... I...

It's been a while since I posted a blog and even longer since I shared a new poem... Yesterday I read a poem, The Other Side of You , by my poet friend, Butch Knight. The entire time I read I kept thinking "Meet me on the other side of you" and today those words morphed into the poem below. You can read Butch's poem,  The Other Side of You , now or later. And, here's mine... Meet Me on the Other Side of You                                                                               Meet me on the other side of you Where the river filled with your tears flows Where the mountain scarred with your heartache rises up Where the valley of your vulnerability hides in the shadows Where your nakedness stands in the beaming moonlight Meet me on the other side of you W...