What hands have held my face, to stare into my soul?

What lips have breathed a lifetime of my kisses stole?

What voice has whispered me my truth, my secrets sealed untold?

What arms have held me in a haven, my broken heart consoled?

What legs have walked a million miles to arrive upon my threshold?

What heart has answered the siren’s song our bindings to behold?

What worth is placed on eternal devotion, more valuable than gold?

What gifts be given to thine own true love, from youthful glow to old?

I just need you

I don’t need roses on one day of a year.
I don’t require chocolates to compete with my peers.
When I wake in the morning from a good night of rest
Open my eyes to you whom loves me best
I know eternally from daybreak to next dawn
That it’s the little things that matter, the lyrics to our life song.
Please don’t spend money on trinkets and things
I don’t need a necklace or shiny diamond rings.
I just need your kisses, your hugs, and your arms
I just want to be with you embraced in your charms.
So please keep the chocolates and conversation hearts
Just keep walking with me, our love never part.

These Are My People: Linda Looney

Linda and Mare

A relationship between a mother and daughter

is far more complicated than it oughter

be, with wrecks and disasters no happily ever after

as one struggles to hold on, the other to be free.

But if you ask them, one on one how they feel,

you’ll hear nothing but the true theist spiel

of love and emotion, undying devotion

between mother and child, where nothing is mild

when familial blood runs rivers through reconciled

years washed pure in the hopeful heart referred

“Glad to be of help.” the moniker tenured

The young man and “The Pensive Woman”

The Pensive Woman, 1932 by a German Artist (I can't find the name of the artist)

The Pensive Woman, 1932 by a German Artist (I can’t find the name of the artist)

I rounded the corner from bronze dipped metal spoons that didn’t stir my soul

to observe a lost lamb separated by his emotions from the flock of chittering as a whole.

He stood slouched, small dreads pointing to the sky, bandana tied artfully at his temple

staring at the sculpture trying to understand something I couldn’t see; Sentimental?

I greeted him with gentle voice, encouraging interaction. I explained without pause

“I was in the other room observing several that didn’t move me because

The spirit requires recognition of matching vibrancy to vibrate frequently

Why this one? What drew you to her?” I asked the young man evenly.

He thought quick, deeply, spoke with certainty, “She’s so sad.”

“When art speaks to me, it speaks in bright colors because I’m, as a rule, glad.

Do you understand her sadness, too? She was created by a German in 1932.”

He wavered momentarily as his emotions washed his face quickly, efficiently.

For a moment, I thought I’d lost him as I waited patiently.

“She reminds me of how I felt when I learned my father had passed away.

I locked myself in my room, curled in a ball and cried to myself all day.

That he was gone was hard enough, it went against my every plan,

but I remember wondering, “Who’s going to teach me to be a man?”

His eyes looked at me just like hers. I gave him “Always Beautiful” as I abided

“You are not alone.” I comforted in synonymous tone as he’d confided.

He smiled while hefting the weight of a million gallons of un-cried tears

that will ebb and flow

wax and wane

light and darken his years.

I loved him deeply, truly

in all his pensive human beauty

as much as I admired that German artist of 1932

accidentally gifting me that one on one in bronzed blues.

Home At Last

Bunny Ears and laid back mornings

Bunny Ears and laid back mornings

I have arrived at your door.

I’ve unpacked my suitcases.

I’m ready for Your/Our more

My bridges burned cold blazes.

You allowed me haven inside

Fortified soul food, tenderness wed

You gifted my envisioned sight

A place to rest my weary head.

From darkness crept my prism

With rainbow fiery lights

No more the battled schisms

My spirit freed to endearingly alight

Love Madly

Earth, Air, Fire, Water

Earth, Air, Fire, Water, Spirit

Let’s fall madly in love with one another.

Entwine our spirits in a magical weave of devotion,

Inhale the earth scents we have become

Absorb our joy in reciprocal rhythm of unity

Believe, as I do, that we’re stardust and oceans

Temporarily sent:

To right here, right now,

Breathing each other passionately

Taking each other like communion without the gravity of solemnity

Let’s allow ourselves to indulge so we can commune

Rolling together on grassy hills, giggling wildfires of laughter

Consuming the stars, the moon, the planets like the delicacies they are

Enriching this moment with the wishing flower’s breezy dance

Barely touching skin to earth from flying currents of jolting surprise

Let’s fall madly, deeply, forever in love.


We’ll just hold hands, hug tightly

While watching us fly the blooming skies nightly

Brushed Out

Clumps of dirt, dust, and debris rotted my brains

whenever I tried to speak to passers by

I’d hold my beggar’s cup earnestly pushing

for loose change to fall chiming into the depths

speaking foul breathed words of backwards intent

Clumps of zombie flesh fell from my body

repulsing potential friends, disgusting possible employers


I blinked my eyes to dream and you coalesced



You made strange sense of my chaos, spoke to me

with careful brush strokes through my tangled words

Ever so gently you tugged at my self-loathing,

conditioned my confidence,

curled my toes with affection,

showered me with the truth through your actions

as you loved my pieces back together.

With frightened squalling wails of labor,

forsaking all others

I was born into redemption with your hand embracing mine

the day I agreed with you that I am worthy of love

These Are My People: Alicia Menninga

A Love Note

A Love Note


Her hair flows like cool rivers around her shoulders

brushing softly at my cheeks

she leans in to touch my arm

whispering thoughts that caress my ears like a song

Her scent is musky rain with a hint of sandalwood

It cloaks my breath with its subtle incense

My heart shudders, bounces, tossed as if on a rolling sea

Her soul floats openly in her kaleidoscope eyes

Her tranquil gracefulness is haunted

with echos of vulnerability and pain

She glows like an oil lamp, flickering, heated,

fueled by a passion for life…and love

She pulls away and with a simple gesture of her hand

she proves herself to be exquisite, delicate, powerful

Her gentleness sweeps against my skin like a searing hot fire

Her giggled words, like cannons,


encompassing me.

One kiss would damn me

One intimate touch would be my downfall

The consequences harsh and brutal

The risk too great

I hover, instead, around her light in hopes

that perhaps she might shine on me again.

These Are My People: Peacock Feathers

Peacock Feathers

Peacock Feathers

From her lips, anguish spewed

like a witch’s window skewed

Hurricanes of self pity storms

Anchors of the loveless mourned

Eden justified with words then spoken

Taking up arms, to mend the broken.

The potent omens

the yet sung dirge

balked faith healers

faithful purge.