Posted in Books & Stories

The Stage


She stood watching the screen motionless, no real emotion rising one way or another. Why wasn’t she surprised? The others stood waiting. They knew they’d found the thing that would push her to a breaking point, they would get their sick satisfaction seeing her cringe and burst out excuses and condemnations. Unsatisfied and unhappy lot, they had to get theirs somewhere. Finally one spoke, “You call that acting…”. “I wasn’t acting; he’s my husband.” She remembered the producer’s house, all the nights they’d been invited there by the bartender, most of those nights the producer wasn’t home. He’d been filming them, her husband that is, in their favorite bedroom. She was doing what he wanted, making him happy, being herself even though some of it she didn’t like but you were supposed to please your husband, and in turn he should please you, you were supposed to be able to let him see the worst things and it would all be ok because you knew his too. What she didn’t know! “Look how unhappy I was” she was surprised to see the story her eyes told. “No wonder people take my writing the way they do. I’m very obviously there. This is me… and… it makes sense why everyone thinks I’m an actress.”

The room had become quiet. Did they realize what had happened? Maybe. She didn’t know she was being filmed, well, had been. Was there any victory here? “Wow, how lovely I was then, sexy, and flexible” she spoke softly, absentmindedly. She rallied, “Well, I never signed a release. Someone owes me a salary, a pretty hefty one.” She turned toward the host of the event. Everyone was hanging their heads in shame.

“Where did you get this?”



Posted in Books & Stories, Just Poetry


I don’t approve

Medicine has no effect then had none

Didn’t last as it should

Not for me

It must run its course

Nothing less

Sleeping not sleeping

My throat my head

How many times to the bathroom couldn’t tell

The clock never as late as I think

That’s good at least

After a night of the living dead I’ll take my pill

Hot coffee yes

How do I feel

Some effect will do

Into work I will






Posted in Books & Stories, Just Poetry

On Site

That I am

Reading over this and that

Put a wash on I thought at three

Must’ve been four

A quarter after not twenty

Yup that’s me believing it’s five again

Automatically rise

See we unwound the clocks

But that’s ok

I rested well enough

Did it reset my day


Cause problems

Sir Topham Hat confusion or delay

No way at all

An extra hour for me


Day is what it is no apologies

Had an espresso no rush


What to to next

Check the dryer

That I will

Cold crisp light breaks

Sun shine in crack the blinds just enough

I’m on my way





Posted in Books & Stories, Classical Studies


I rise at regular time but the clock says I’m up an hour early. Am I? I’ll have time to myself and it’ll be light when I walk to work. Will I miss watching day break? Maybe a little but it’ll be fine. The alarm hasn’t gone off yet and I’m about to fix coffee. It’s nice to be able to sit and think not worrying about the clock. This solstice season agrees with me though I do love being able to see where I’m going on the way home. Born on the equinox it’s no surprise I love balance. The world turns the way it does and winter shortens daylight without a clock’s permission. Persephone is packing up her things fastening the shutters on her home. It occurred to me why March is as a tumultuous month as it is with winter battling spring while the underworld doesn’t want to let her go. Her heart’s just not there, simple enough.

About that coffee…

Posted in Books & Stories, Crafts

Melted Glass

Going outside to blow out the candle or put the metal lid on to snuff it out, I noticed it was unusually loose. I lifted it to reposition and screw it on, very gently of course, when glass fused to the lid came off with the lid. It was melting, heated enough from the candle burning overnight. Who knew that would happen…  I now use the unusual lid for the spent matches that light or lit the candle.