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A hot, sweaty mess

Tangled in sheets

Surging and throbbing

A shivering body

Twisted with need

Moaning and groaning

A sleep-deprived mind

Blistered with fever

Burning and dreaming

A damp night’s journey

Broken by sickness

coughing and wheezing

A cool morning salvation

Freed of discomfort

Sleeping and healing


End the -isms: I Hope You Will

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When it’s time to stand up,

I hope you will.

When it’s time to speak out,

I hope you will.

When it’s time to rally forth,

I hope you will.

When it’s time to teach,

I hope you will.




It’s all around you.

Opportunity lost in silence.

Every day it’s time.

Break the silence!

Seize the opportunity!

End the -isms!

I hope you will!


(Full Definition of ism by Merriam-Webster: 1:  a distinctive doctrine, cause, or theory 2:  an oppressive and especially discriminatory attitude or belief)


School’s Out

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Heat waves dancing in the streets

Birds singing to the rising sun

Squeals of laughter through the rain of sprinklers

Sidewalk chalk art

Popsicles and ice cream cones

Camping at the Lake

ATVs, SUV’s, no more ABC’s

School’s out for summer.


Holiday Time

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Mutli-hued halos dance upon sparkling diamond mounds of cold powder, pushing back the darkness.

Smiling faces of package laden passersby, cheeks rouged by Jack Frost, exchange salutations of the season.

Music spills from garland festooned sidewalk Mom & Pop’s, drawing caroling shoppers across their thresholds.

Crisp breezes shuttle new snowflakes to and fro as the peals of children’s laughter break through all else.

My face aches from joyful expression of emotion. My favorite time of year.


Just a Thursday Afternoon

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fluttering stomach

crawling skin


fire-seared skull

burning eyes

spinning room

concrete pillowcase full of rocks

neck with a thousand pinpricks

deep rolling ache

joint to joint

tip to top

electrified dance of arms and legs


black dark room






Gloomy Day Muse

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Music notes dance across the room

Teasing emotions from my mind

Sweet serenades of longing

Pulsing charges of determination

Bouncy flutterings of joyous love

Twisting lyrical cries of anguish

Adding fuel to the fire that burns my brain

Making my fingers itch

To turn letters into words

Then words into thoughts

Spinning stories that must be told

Until the feelings drift away