Thursday, July 28, 2016

4 Poems Inspired by Joy Wolfenden Brown


Inspired by the painting 'Broken' by Joy Wolfenden Brown

The child is broken
manifesting the familial split
they do not want to admit

becoming onlookers
as lives splinter
and memories shelter
in hand me down clothes outgrown

The child inside moves to speak
but tongue tied with wire
she knows better
than to try

and so expiring before she's flown
eggshells under feet
the fragments of promises lie in a tapestry never given


Inspired by the painting 'Giving and Receiving'
by Joy Wolfenden Brown

almost spirit
the gift of togetherness
lying in dream state


Inspired by the painting 'Brief Visitor' by Joy Wolfenden Brown

little solace in that you were here
a heartbeat
now gone

are you gone?

and yet i still see your promised outline
held in the air
as I trace beauty and fall to
those last moments
listening to

holding wishes before letting go of

you - exiting my body with red sighs
you - a precious gift given and taken back so soon
you - rising above, alone


Inspired by the painting 'Untitled' by Joy Wolfenden Brown


is a face listening to night
with a rose of red holding a blue swirling path of dreaming
conversations of the sleeping
heart beating in two worlds

Indigo seeing

the ones that need
the ones that shine
the ones that will take
the ones that strike out

from mother to mother
from other to other

the unknown is here
with your name written as a bruise
with your name written in stars


Monday, July 25, 2016


They said I am full of grief
and I agreed with them
my lungs have breathed too much disappointment
in this life

I am not myself, I said
but later I disagreed
for this is what I am, now

Don't misunderstand
I still see joy in every gift of nature
and finally see the hope a child can bring
but my shadow turns to the suns of yesteryear
and I blink at every disappearance

Wednesday, July 20, 2016

Incidents at the Shrine

I do not know if I can bring back my flowers
The soil is sparse
and you never wanted to be a god, anyway

But I can still capture the touch of lightness
and our astonishment when we met in that place outside of all this

Since then the lands and the seasons
the constant turning
has tired me
and I went many times and you were not there

If I come, will you hold me, make any promises, is ours something rooted that reaches to the sky

Or do we remain as incidents
albeit at the shrine