Yoga Class, the Teacher Speaks. Wednesday, December 27, 2006. Hold our hands open as cups. My lips form familiar words. But I am not speaking. It is the mother who is speaking. I am riding on the dark resonance. That is not my voice. I listen as she speaks. She is telling us now. To come touch each other. I feel other hands move warm into mine. I glance at the clock. We have one human hour.

Saturday, December 16, 2006. Poems with a wider lens. Links to the right will connect with poems that express some things maybe spiritual, or at least beyond day to day experience. Poetry Immersion Classes with Joan Dobbie. Some Thoughts and How to on Poetry Writing. Live Each Day as If. Yoga Class, the Teacher Speaks. Love Song to a Dead Kitten.

Poems that deal with inner turmoil. Sometimes poetry is a good form of therapy. These poems came out of an attempt to heal by facing inner demons. Poems that focus on Psychological stuff. Poetry Immersion Classes with Joan Dobbie. Some Thoughts and How to on Poetry Writing. What I Learned One Day in Hell.

Thursday, January 3, 2008. As if it were your last. If you live each day. As if it were your last. Poetry Immersion Classes with Joan Dobbie. Some Thoughts and How to on Poetry Writing. Live Each Day as If. Yoga Class, the Teacher Speaks. Love Song to a Dead Kitten.

Love Song to a Dead Kitten. Thursday, March 15, 2007. This poem appeared in Elegant Stew, 1983. Poetry Immersion Classes with Joan Dobbie. Some Thoughts and How to on Poetry Writing. Yoga Class, the Teacher Speaks. Love Song to a Dead Kitten.

Sunday, December 17, 2006. Photo by Joan Dobbie 2007. The thing to do, I guess,. Though it comes and goes. This poem appeared on a Christmas Card published by Chuck Eyers in 2003. Poetry Immersion Classes with Joan Dobbie. Some Thoughts and How to on Poetry Writing. Live Each Day as If. Yoga Class, the Teacher Speaks. Love Song to a Dead Kitten.

Saturday, April 7, 2007. You have sired my children. I hold you on my lap. Nurse you at my breast. I love you, lose you. And find you, but can never. Quite sew you into my life. On bright sunny days you smile. In the dark of my chest. But come night you turn hard. You are ransacking my house. I run from my bed.

After dreaming what I dream. I wake to my world. Outside my window the sparrows and starlings. Inside my mind is my daughter. Dawn who lives with her boyfriend. She is sick with an ear infection. It is too early to call or bring. I would like to bring her mint tea. My Andy and friends are sleeping. All over the living-room floor. All of them have been playing.

The Dog Died on a Daily Basis. The Dog Died on a Daily Basis. Then the next day it died again. Those were the days left for mourning. There was always a new death. After a while the baby started dying as well. It became a daily occurrence. Dog death and baby death. Then came the leaving of lovers. They came just to leave. They left you and then the next day. It was a kind of daily rape.