dealing
-
night
I clean my face at night my mother calls it taking off the day. I can clean my face, but I have seen too much that cannot be washed away I wonder what it is all for, the fear, the smell of dread, the infighting and I wonder if things will be different in the… Continue reading
-
I am wasting time. Flat out sick the last week contemplating my life for now I’m forced to. There is nothing to distract me from it now. I have friends who are not friends but opportunists, and there will never be anything else with them except for what we can mutually take from one another.… Continue reading
-
the quiet current rages below
stillness, the stillnessa new silence that descendsin darknessand space, spacethat moves among usinvisibilityit is the uneaten foodthe empty platethe unused shoesthe too big bedthe listless clothes unwornthat hang on one side of the closetthe wife, now widowedthe husband without wifethe unanswered questionsthe where of Godthe words unspokenthe love that still livesendlesslythe stillness, the stillness© diane… Continue reading
-
keening
there they flit across the stage those dancers i always wanted to be degas is calling across the years but he has painted out the pain the ugliness of the feet in satin slippers they make you forget, the satin shoes that covers a multitude of callouses built up over years blunting the pain of… Continue reading
About Me
poet, diarist, writer, teacher, woman, fragile, strong, northern life is my domicile, my barbaric yawp exudes against the tide
Diary of an American 