Poem-a-Day 2017 Writer’s Digest Challenge #22. Theme: Fable

This was a piece to a longer poem (“Strolling Across Campus on a Monday Afternoon”), which is known as a “walking poem.”  My poetry professor had our class go outside and just record our observations in our journal.  We had to choose a line from Anne Waldman’s “Fast Speaking Woman” at random (the equivalent of flipping through a telephone book and blindly putting our finger on a name), and implement it (though I did not include it today).

Since it is Earth Day, I thought this would be perfect, because in Mormon mythology/doctrine (depending on your perspective), they believe in a Heavenly Father and a Heavenly Mother, which makes sense, as in Genesis 1:26, it reads:  And God said, Let us make man in our image, after our likeness.


Our Heavenly Lineage

The sun is like Mother Nature kissing me,
the breeze,
the brushing of her hair as she does so,
blessing me.

I think of the blue God,
the green Goddess,
our ecological parents—
for are not humans merely water and earth,
fused with a touch of the Divine?


Poem-a-Day 2017 Writer’s Digest Challenge #21. Theme: Pick an object, and make it the title of the poem



Cell phone:
Life, miniaturized.
Unreliable narration.
Picture Frame:
Encapsulating 1/5 of a life second.
Shows, not tells, what one can do.
Life’s trailers.


Poem-a-Day 2017 Writer’s Digest Challenge #19. Theme: Memory


The Last Time They Met

The last memory she had of him
was of her getting the last word.
The last memory he had of her
was of not waiting to listen before responding.
Their shared memory was that it had
All ended because she’d said too little,
and he’d said too much.


Poem-a-Day 2017 Writer’s Digest Challenge #18. Theme: Life and/or Death


He Lives

He was the life of her new world,
the death of her old one,
the death of her sin.

He is a warrior,
a radical,
a servant,
an immigrant,
a lion,
a lamb,
a friend.

He is our Master,
but we are not His slaves.
His words are the plasma
that sears our souls.
Sometimes He is the part of a ménage à trois
that comes between lovers.

He lived,
even in death,
for there was not one moment—
even as a baby in the manger—
that He was not aware,
for He was the human form of God,
confined by neither space nor time.

He is in us,
one of us,
and for us,


Poem-a-Day 2017 Writer’s Digest Challenge #17. Theme: Dance


LoraBeth’s Dances of Death

She danced to “The Price is Right”
as a little girl–
to shut out her white trash world.
She danced out of all her own weddings,
leaving her live-in fiances
to eat hummingbird cake.
She drunkenly danced at her daughter’s
third and fifth weddings,
shutting everyone else out.
When she died,
all those she had wronged
danced on her grave.