All rights reserved worldwide.  The poetry below is written by me and may not be reproduced, sold, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.  Please enjoy your read!


Ants march around the rock’s summit and
I am humbled by
Their intricately designed
Way of civilization
+++Each person has a job
+++Each person is important
+++Each person makes up the whole of the colony
I wish our society paid more attention to what nature
Is trying to instill into us
+++Each one of us has a job
+++Each one of us is important
+++Each one of us makes up the whole of our colony.



Love me
Like the gentle
Trickle of the creek’s water

Hold me
Slow and steady
Surrounded by your arms; encased in wisdom and power

Has before
And I will stay here,



The doors creak open in my mind
Unlike the doors
In John Wayne’s western movies
They do not swing open flamboyant – loud and proud
Rusted shut,
They are sluggish
Full of mistrust
Polluted with moments when a child should have mattered

I stand on the other side of the door now
Just outside of the room
On the sidewalk,
With the knowledge that
I have been here before
Familiar yet it blinds me in fear
For I have no real protection
Open to being destroyed
Over again

I know I could run now
I know I could hide
Yet, this time
I know it has to be different

I grab the oil can
And grease the hinges
Of those doors in me
That have seized

Try to embrace some sense comfort that I felt
Maybe one day, at one time, for even one minute
So I can try to pass through them

I breathe in deep now
Allow my nostrils to fill
With the
Scent of compassion
Of love
And of acceptance
Cognizant that
Yet another crossroads
Stands before me

This time though
My shoulders are squared
For your monumental battle
I am prepared for
I stand tall
For this time
I will face you
For this time
I will conquer you
For this time
I will succeed
Without anyone else’s
Prediction or unasked for opinion
As to how my story is supposed to unfold



I live
Within your heartbeat

+++Each mighty thump

+++Enchant me

+++Centered amidst a secluded cocoon
Of love
And freedom

+++An expanse
+++Shrouded in protection
Cloaks me

I spread my wings
+++No matter



I sit now on this decrepit
+++Paint worn park bench
Familiar now with the feel
Of the flake
+++Of my heart

Echoes of stolen words
And broken promises
Doled out to me by others
Who never intended to fulfill them
+++Reminds me; resonates, bottomless.

Today I wish
To be transported
Back to my youth
So I give myself permission
+++To play with these children
Before me

At will, I would
Shout and sing
Run and skip
Act in haste
+++And be jubilant
Engrossed in beloved games
Of hide and seek.
Red light, green light,

Oh how no thing or person would persecute me

Red rover red rover
Please call me over



Soft trails of light
Perched in the branches of the oak tree
Just outside my window
A multitude of hues
Dance erratic
+++With wild abandon
The cascade of exquisite notes of silence
With rhythms
That soothe
The dark spaces
That girdle my heart tonight

I take this moment
Of quiet reflection
And allow me to become entranced
In the blessing that is bestowed upon me

I sit in silent prayer
And offer my profound thanks
To this universal power
For its bestowment upon me

This non-intrusive and exquisite
+++Offers me



+++Evokes respect
Loves me and gives to me
In ways
+++Inspires greatness
To the heart
That bleeds
+++of need
It erases
+++The breath of each other to sustain them



Like these
I sit and contemplate
The depth of our love
And find myself
By the calm
And peaceful
That encompasses my heart and elevates me
I think of our last embrace
Remember your heart beat
The curve of your face
And the touch of your skin next to mine
Content in the knowledge that
We are close enough now
To trust and love
One another

I revel
In this glorious feeling
And am at ease
To be at that point
+++In our relationship
Where seated in a room
We need not even need to speak
To sustain us



Spoken now
As we lay

If only we could capture
The laughter
That once used to be our glue
Return to those days when we believed in forever
And braided our love with invisible threads of twine

Betray us now though
As we lay

Still reactive to that which they can no longer have
And peace
Our minds know too much now
To go backward

Assimilation of circumstance
Difficult to let go of the need to believe a lie
Difficult to let go of the need to be right

The clock ticks
Words tainted
Spilled forth in haste
Filled in by expressions of another

One heart was stolen by the heart of a thief
Two hearts left broken



Who is this person who speaks to me now?
Wise beyond her years
Wise beyond her experiences
A revelation reflects; an emergence
Confident and self-assured
At peace
This person smiles
I hold her close to me
+++Excited to learn; to feel; to live an authentic life, Acceptance

+++Eager to reach outside of myself, to touch another’s soul
Feel the effects my love will impart to this person who struggles
+++I want them to shine like never before
Throw their arms up with me and dance without restraint
Wear tutus and crowns of rhinestone
Unabashed by judgment

Today I fear no boundaries
+++React in ways once suppressed
+++Love what once was hated
+++Explore options, take risks
The time has come now to
+++Leak out my soul’s mysteries
+++Integrate them into my wholeness of being
To be free
To feel peace
But most of all
To know unabashed love
Its pains
Its weaknesses
Its strengths
And be catapulted
To bask in love’s purest glory



++++++Blonde pigtails frame

Crystal blue pools
Reminiscent of a southern sea
The eyes you gave to me,  not my mom
A place where tears would later well – I doubt you knew that then
Or even now

Muffled voices ring inside my head
Songs are sung out loud
The dances
And arm flaps
Of childhood games
The echo of those times, undaunted

Days when my heart became a gypsy’s
I would twirl round and round, untainted

Were you ever my best friend? I think that you’ve forgotten

+++Fits of giggles
+++High pitched squeals
Audacious celebrations of my inner self
Those days I was unbiased

A few memories
Old pictures intertwined
Where are you?

I do not remember your arms around me
I do not remember your smile
I do not remember being told
I was okay
Good enough

Valued, necessary, needed

A fortress built
By the bricks of hate you threw at me

While I too young to understand

Felt snowflakes wiggle on my tongue
Marveled at how I could run so fast
While I looked up to the sky, valiant

Snowballs sped near my face
Frosty and Rudolf
I laughed without a thought of bait
The scarves and mittens, toboggans and hot chocolate, a roaring fire

The ants and worms that crawled across me, near the rain barrel

Tricycle rides with my brother standing behind me

The merry-go-round, the slides and monkey bars I conquered, care-free

Mr. Emerson’s mint candies

Would old Besty start for us?

I swung high into the sky on that cherished swing set we had
The Candy Bar held my favorite treats

The day my little cousin fell on the pavement
How he stood up unfazed, unexplained – he was not trained

Clothes littered with grass stains, caked in mud
Dusty, Skippy, Tippy and little Whisky too
My unconditional balls of fur; I still love them

The times spent at the cabin with my grandparents and family
Black and white photo,
My aunt holds her son so close, they will prosper
My older brother and I stand beside an empty chair
Grip tight to one another
I interlock my arms around one of his
The lake behind us, calm
That innocence of youth

Hands clasp my brothers’
Breathed a fire of love and truth
That gave me air and unaltered light

Phantom Lake
Bread baked in the small pans set aside just for me by Grandma
I was her only girl
When I skated with Grandpa, I’d fall and he’d pick me up, an indulgent love of me
I miss the sailor suit he gave me
I miss his cards, the sound of the way he said my name

At the house, but a few channels on the TV set
First world problems, ignorant of third world maladies

Tippy’s chair with its soft, checkered red, white and black flannel blanket
Wrapped me up in the love that I would later crave
Times when I could celebrate my birthday, present in the moment
How fast that I would become a mere shadow

Counting every time
I climbed
The Hundred Stairs
The wooden casing of the sewer pipes, solid beneath my feet
As so much igneous, volcanic rock
Reflected a fire that constantly burned and cooled
Beneath my then frail surface

Surrounded by the elegant stand of birch trees
Whose paper thin bark does shed
Like layers of my mind
I was shown then that
It’s okay to release and expose new layers
Regardless that it might incapacitate other regions of myself
I, alone,
Would somehow survive

Never would you know the strife, so near, that only you could breathe onto me

The terror that struck the pavement, just at my front door,
Dripped like the icicles off the soffits of the roof
And rolled across the hardwood floors that I called home
A fester, which burrowed and grew
++++++Black is all I see
++++++Silence is the memory
But on the surface, you’d think I’d impaled my fear
For my little girl’s heart
Told me you were never meant to be
Even though I only wanted to be loved
But you were not meant to be
Despite what anyone else wanted or said
A premonition I suppose
To when I was a little older
I would be a victim of this need
Just to feel accepted
I wanted to be okay with being me

Am I such a despicable seed?

Broken, I’d repair myself
Try not to spew hate or greed

The hands of the clock spun
Round and round, they pirouetted, twisted fate
And now I stand here five or six
No longer in the town where I was born
I look out the window, vacant
I’d put a staple through my finger that day at school
But I didn’t care
It hurt, so at least I could still feel
Behind me, I hear my mom doing the dishes
My brothers
Beat up my dolls once more
Told me they were mere plastic
No feelings could they show
My auntie made me one of the rags
They laughed and punched it in the face
A reflection of what you did to me
I am submerged, I drown
You don’t come home to me now

My mom is so busy
As she tries to make ends meet
And my brothers have each other
Yet I sit by myself at everybody’s feet
My little girl’s world is splintered
I stand there holding pieces
And wonder how to put them back together
Instead of looking up, I stare down at my feet
+++I heard the fight you had that day
+++In the closest with my brother
+++The muffled sound still deafens my adult years
++++++Black is all I see
++++++Silence is the memory

The day you walked out
My heart
Detonated inside my chest
Then it iced up like the lakes in that town where I was born
My true feelings squirreled away
To only swim now below the surface
As the fish does, trapped under an icy inner world
Perhaps no one knew to cut that hole
Unabashed, not caring what they’d do
That later they’d try to destroy me
Rip apart my life and leave me helpless
My exterior
An unmistaken grief-worn, exposed
Scars can never hide
If you looked beyond my smile
You’d hear that I was unable to sing or speak out loud
Unless to lash out
A myriad of words never spoken
Instead protected her little girl inside,
A limp, shattered, porcelain doll, disdain
Destined to be held a prisoner like the boogeyman who lived across the lake
In that town, you once protected me in
That was before you killed that part of me though
That was only reserved for you

An impoverished heart was born that day
I realized you were done with me

Fast forwards
The clock’s hands tumble round
I am probably ten or twelve
I clung to those horse rides in my island home
At my grandparents
They made me feel alive, accepted
I revered in whittling
As I watched the birch tables and clocks
Being born
The sound of thunder as it rolled
Across the sky
And sheet lighting
For all to see that
Grandpa held me, safe
In his arms, I mattered

The adding machine and canned foods
Sam, marbles, glasses of bugs, moths and worms
Before Grandmas and Grandpas, they left me
To fend for me like you
Before I wrote my name wrong
In a neighbours’ book
I was told I was rejected
Taking my brother’s with me
Guilt crushed my tiny soul

I was destined and meant to be alone
I was a monster, I hid beneath beds and lingered

Imprinted is being made to watch the airplane fly above me
Grandma said you and your wife were inside, I crumbled
On that day, that last hope withered
I was now empty, devoid of possibility

++++++Black pigtails
Eyes, crystal brown
The color of tree trunks
Surrounded by the man who gave me life – I’m sure he caught your tears

She is the daughter, where you laid your roots – a family tree did grow
I also his daughter, had my roots torn to shred and all I became was his harbor of despair – a mere branch he cut off and left to wither
I heard the fight
The muffled sound still deafens my adult years
++++++Black is all I see
++++++Silence is the memory


To all the fathers and mothers out there: Love your child, always. Regardless of what you feel about the other person who brought them into this world with you, your family tree’s branches still reflect them. You can cut, you can sever, but you can never take away that which is a birthright of someone outside of yourself.


The tiniest of buds on the rosebush
To expose and unfold
Its vibrant display; breathtaking self
+++To me

It makes me hopeful
For I too
+++The release of fireworks, eminent
Belief and freedom
Once rooted and buried deep within
Have burst out of their coffins
To rich, dark black soil

The tinniest of buds of my dream
Wants to bloom now
The tender being
I no longer wish to be a landlord of
But instead
A cheerleader

The tassels of my pompoms
Brush the long white sock with dark blue stripes
As I jump into the air, legs spread wide, arms splayed

Her best friend who loves her.


Please leave a comment below about what you thought of my poetry. My sincere thanks!

My poetry may not be reproduced, sold, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the address below.

Kim at Mogillow Arts – kim@mogillow.com


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