A Cat and A Human

The cat sits like a prayer-

is the human a poet, I wonder;

could he then see the spirit of grimalkin

in its eyes; will he allow him in;

the motley cat in pewter and white

does not look slovenly; is the human

seeing through its homelessness-

what if he’s a non-cat person;

will he still allow him in;

whatever happens this human

has prayer granting eyes-

Posted for Sunday Muse #196 hosted by Carrie


A Story

Story of the tiny flame

Is over-

It’s an untimely demise-

No one knows if she was steady

Or wavering

In the face of the insolent, hungry wind-

I don’t believe she gave in

Without the slightest stir-

Everything looks so calm and tranquil

As if nothing had happened-

Posted for Sunday Muse #195 hosted by Carrie


Word is darkness

Figures devouring each other

Love delights in break up

And becomes a poem

Poem is light

Images lapping up images

Thoughts delight in birth

And becomes a word

Posted for Carrie’s picture prompt @ The Sunday Muse #175

“Sound is sea: pattern lapping pattern… Matter delights in music, and became Bach,” the poet Ronald Johnson wrote as he contemplated matter, music and the mind. The given picture prompt and Ronald Johnson’s words triggered my poem today.

My Foxtrot Words

My foxtrot-words

in a fitful frenzy leaped

into a frosty dizziness-

they would have been there

sans hues of life forever

had they not fallen

on the lap

of daffodil memories-

I feel them there gestating-

here I am marking time

for their ‘fractal flight’ home**-

** art print of Maria Popova

Posted for Sunday Muse #151 hosted by Carrie

Love Was Our Home Once


Neither you nor I can escape

this nightmare of sinking love-

haven’t our moon words turned

charcoal-gray long ago?

we had grown crevices in them

with faithful self-love without the least

thought of the solace of light-

dreams that once were, are now

headstones of hills-

we are no more homesick-

it’s time to

rest in peace-



Posted for Carrie’s picture prompt @ Sunday Muse #94