poetry
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Girl Talk: The Code of Sylvia Plath’s “Cut”
Given her Swiftian bent in “Cut,” Plath fantastically extrapolates Freud’s castration complex and imagines the female anatomy in ludicrous male personas, each with its own abject place in history, while the poem serves, at once, as a celebration, social satire and lament about female gender. Girl Talk: The Code of Sylvia Plath’s “Cut” This is a […]
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Dissonance
Im only free when I drink free to say what I want and how i want when I don’t care that my barbaric yawp hits the wall and slides down into an abyss of silence silence that smothers and silence smothers me in this worldI am not made for I never realized this world is […] Continue reading
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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
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Blue water
long missed always the sounds low and longing calls of gulls circling high overhead steady crunching beneath my feet a faint roar. drawing closer to the slate blue haze more distinct now honking of geese moving slowly across the sand as night drifts in it’s louder now, the water, leaping and lunging curling up and […] Continue reading
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dead prayers to a man god
the night is the worst empty arms and outdoors is blue-black, like a bruise Like the bruise you gave me when you slammed the door in my face your empty promises of return reverberating like so much empty clanging of bells The bells, the bells of church ringing a God I do not know who […] Continue reading
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People’s faces by Kae Tempest
I feel so much when I listen to this. It is pure magic with words. Continue reading
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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 