say no to clowns

ebullient decay…

Insecurities and other such fun things… — May 22, 2017

Insecurities and other such fun things…

So I was merrily going my way along WordPress today, and then I saw a quote, (egads I hear you say)…but it reminded me of something that had been on my mind, but wasn’t sure I should divulge, (and how many buts could I have in one sentence, but anyway…)

I live, mostly, in a general state of bewilderment, and it has been such a wonderful surprise to discover the amount of other people on WP in such a state. I feel like we should be stretching out a big picnic blanket and then oohing and aahing over all of the somewhat disgustingly interesting food we would bring out of our baskets. (Just a forewarning…my food will be a perfect candidate for those “Nailed It” comparison posts on social media I never get sick of.) Plus, you will have to be patient with me as I fight urges to hug everyone, which I do constantly when I read your gut wrenching, devastatingly glorious writing.
But I think I am digressing, I’m not sure.

So, darn, I can’t remember what this post was going to be about…
Hopefully this very motivating link will remind me:
Poetic Motivations at Davy D’s blog. (Thanks again Davy.)

Oh yes, whenever I read interesting things about different writers and they start listing their favourite writers and influences, my eyes glaze over. Don’t get me wrong, I love to read. It’s just that I have so much trouble focussing, that I honestly haven’t done it very much in recent years. (Plus, any reading I have done has been theological by some rather brilliant friends.) So, I have been rather embarrassed about my neglect, but this quote reminded me of why I have more recently decided that I won’t be. Plus, it was never my goal to sound or read like anyone else.

Ugh, where am I going with this?

(My husband just came up to me, kissed my cheek in a lovingly sympathetic way and said, “are you writing to Mr Aloysius Snuffleupagus?”
Could the timing be more perfect? Need I say more about the breadth and depth of my influences? I admit, it’s been a few years…)

But I think I have actually found a point…I am more than profoundly moved and inspired by the talent on WordPress. What a wonderfully therapeutic experience it has been. I am so grateful. Plus, you have reminded me of things that were buried, very deeply.

And to my remarkable parents, who are well educated and just plain intelligent.

And I am grateful to an old friend who planted the seed for me to start blogging in the first place. He doesn’t think I should give him any credit. But I am grateful to him more than I can ever say. In fact, through all of the years I have known him, he has busted out a few insightful things that have really helped me. He most likely doesn’t even remember. It doesn’t matter.

So I raise my glass of homemade rum and coke to these people I love and the million colours of WordPress.  I know I have said this before, but thank you, from the bottom of my heart. ❤

what are the words (for mothers’ day) — May 15, 2017
you know I’ll only say wiedersehen — April 10, 2017
while we were watching, the lake’s clef was bassed. while we were watching, the treble danced in — April 8, 2017
it’s not hard to see — March 29, 2017

it’s not hard to see

So for those of you who don’t know, I am married to a pastor.

I could seriously write a book about what life has been like in the last 20+ years living this reality. The thing is, if I did, I would have to kill everyone first. Because changing names wouldn’t be enough.
I jest, of course!

But today, I was listening to one of my favourite mashups, and I felt the need to give a shoutout to our church families.

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the journey doesn’t end here… — March 22, 2017
This Week’s Summary 3/20 – Transformations — March 20, 2017

This Week’s Summary 3/20 – Transformations

I’m so grateful for Stephen’s kindness!
Please take some time to check out the links he’s provided here, if you haven’t already. Some wonderful writing!!


I begin a new week in Hong Kong visiting family and its newest addition, a beautiful baby boy. Feels symbolic to me in many ways, but I don’t want to steal the moment from the new parents, rather, let’s review the past week. What began a transition from worrying about stats to learning the power of the community of writers in this corner of WordPress has transformed into a full-blown community of support that seems to have grown up around one idea in particular, The Backside of Night. This week, I posted my first round-up of the posts and more have come in since. Until the meme starts to mock itself, I will continue to update the round-up with new writer’s takes on this idea. As always, many thanks go out to Davy D for asking the question that inspired the quote and thereluctantpoet for his enthusiastic embrace of the…

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A Back Catalog Wrap-up: Say No To Clowns and a response: 40 Minutes. — March 19, 2017

A Back Catalog Wrap-up: Say No To Clowns and a response: 40 Minutes.

This remarkable writer (and heck of a nice guy) spent this last week checking out my blog. And now he’s gone to the trouble of writing this…I’m honoured more than I can say. How generous you are to your WP friends, Stephen!
Please take some time to read his work, if you don’t know him already. You will not be disappointed. He is an amazing talent.


As this week draws to a close, I am happy to report that my week spent with saynotoclowns was valuable beyond words. Digging around a fellow poet’s back catalog not only feels respectful, it is also a chance to connect to the larger human beings that we all are. In this week’s adventures I discovered a great writer, a deeply spiritual soul, and a musical kindred spirit whose taste in music already has me thinking about which musician I want to tackle after I finish my National series; Nick Cave comes to mind. Fortunately, I have a few more weeks to think about it, but I am pretty sure the Bad Seed is planted (so sorry, couldn’t resist).

My response poem to saynotoclowns tries to encapsulate the humor I found in her writing (…this woman’s first post was of a donkey for crying out loud!…) while also respecting her deep…

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Recurring Dream — March 16, 2017

Recurring Dream

This is a reworking of a poem I wrote a couple of months ago, after visiting an old friend in Arizona. These gorgeous trees surrounded our camp site. A night by a campfire, sharing sorrows and burdens with an old friend, is one of the best things in life imho. Thanks to Charles, the reluctant poet   for inviting me to join ‘the back side of the night’ theme started by The sailor poet.  I really appreciate their encouragement, as well as that by Davy at Davy D blog.  Thanks Guys!



How those maudlin woods enticed us

adorned so enchantingly with unprecipitation

and the black of trees’ core,

begging interpretation from the sympatheticly dressed.

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for Melissa — March 14, 2017
No one knows me like… — March 12, 2017
the… — March 9, 2017
I Liked Your Poem — February 28, 2017

I Liked Your Poem

This brought me to my heart’s knees! For those of you who haven’t read it yet, this is how I feel about WordPress. Thank you for these divine words, Mark.

my miscellaneous thoughts and creativity

You were born, my god.

One day you learned the sounds,

you vocalized your need.

You grew, you played, you fell.

You wrote curvy words in school.

Something happened, maybe once.

It may have been chronic,

it may have been enough

to change you forever.

It may have been enough

to push you off the edge.

You may have seen the blood,

you may have kissed

a cold face, for the last time.

You may have offered everything,

you may have emptied yourself.

And there you stood

with the tangled mess

of imaginary paths and

muddled memories, consuming you.

Your anguish was killing you,

but your face buried it alive.

You were numb.

But, you were born again, my love.

One day, a soul sat by you, and

cracked your shell.

Another clenched your mind.

Later, another ravaged your pain.

Such succulent words they devised.

You were not alone.


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“choirs of stars appearing…” — February 21, 2017
childhood (condensed) — February 19, 2017
sarah leanne — February 16, 2017
sepiated — February 13, 2017



(I took this photo yesterday of my father. He still works as a landscaper, at 83! He helps to take care of this beautiful property for his friend, who died a couple of years ago. He helps to lovingly tend it for her children who currently live elsewhere.)


your whispering  legacy haunted

those delightfully enchanted trees

they bashfully danced to the harmony’s spell

you cast on ebullient breeze.

gentle tread of your variegated spirit

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dresden — February 9, 2017



Thirteen years have already passed Dresden, and I still remember the way your venerable spirit soaked through my pores, filling my lungs with a new language.

But it wasn’t until my beloved friend started to sing, that my heart translated the stories she told me, the unspeakable truths of her tormented past.

Never have I been so moved by sound, the waves joyously belying the stripped beneath. Struggling to remain standing, my heart already on its knees, Perspective winded me in all tenses.

If ever anyone should bow to any sense of venerable, it was now, at her humble feet. I took a photo, one that should be in the dictionary…

tonight, while 5 year old niece performs surgery… — January 30, 2017
vincero — January 28, 2017