Barefoot, or: Naked Truth

My 2nd Cleave poem she loves his gruff voice, his calling card that he leaves his hot temper by his shoes neatly by the door, now ajar, open to a world well known to her that could offer support whenever his arm rises up into the air should she need to make his tyranny known… Continue reading Barefoot, or: Naked Truth

Sign, or: Delivery

My 1st Cleave poem there’s no rhyme to what poets write and what poets experience how they are understood when they are read by critics picking their fantasies apart / from from stacks of books delivered by publishers, not knowing the rhythms of their hearts them and their little birds fluttering so vulnerably yearning hoping… Continue reading Sign, or: Delivery

Broken beings, or: Vessels

Poetry Partners #5 A haibun by Barbara Schaefer of 'solitary 4 tomorrow' love forlorn regained freedom by an inch growth beyond pride I am reporting here on a complex and deep long-distance platonic love. I sought it and entered into it freely but ended up having to extricate myself very very carefully. While I thought… Continue reading Broken beings, or: Vessels

The courage to be vulnerable…

Daring greatly means the courage to be vulnerable. It means to show up and be seen. To ask for what you need. To talk about how you’re feeling. To have the hard conversations.-Brené Brown (b. 1965) P.S. As always, I’m offline for 25 hours for Shabbat, which runs from sunset every Friday to sunset on Saturday. I… Continue reading The courage to be vulnerable…