writing
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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
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The Northern Lights
What is your favorite type of weather? When the weather is clear, and the conditions right, we are lucky enough in northern Wisconsin to see the Northern Lights from time to time. The dancing, undulating lights glow green, pink, yellow, and blue as they weave and dance across the night sky. It is easy to… Continue reading
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Atropos dreams
I dreamed about a dead poets son who self annihilated I took an elevator that went to nowhere and stopped between floors. He was darkly handsome His smile comfortably intimate, as if this weren’t death we were living in as if his life had never happened. I becamelost in his studio, scattered with the detritus… Continue reading
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Write or die?
Haven’t written in a long time. Feel like I’m being strangled by self doubt. Doesn’t help that i have a family who believes fighting is life. Reading Plath whose single-minded goal is something I envy. I dont have any goals other than surviving in a greedy society that traps the workers into a never ending… Continue reading
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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
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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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crossroads
“Since then ‘t is centuries; but each Feels shorter than the day I first surmised the horses’ heads Were toward eternity.”– emily dickinson at the end, the precipice.no signs forward no signs backno bridge overno wings to flyonly wide open black space descendingdown away from the sky Then a movement in the wind catches my… 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
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 