NEW RELEASE: Dredging up Demeter:An Autumn Anthology

My second Anthology Poetry project that I edited is now available on kindle for $3.33.

It contains the hard work of eight other poets, nine including myself. I just updated the book description to include all the poets names-however those changes will not appear for 12 hours. But this is what the updated description should say:

This is a creative collaborative collection of poetry focusing on three seasonal themes. First is Autumn, Secondly is seasonal holidays such as Dia de los muertos, Halloween, Samhain, Thanksgiving, Winter Solstice, Yule and Christmas. Last is transitioning the changing of Seasons from Summer into Autumn, or Autumn into Winter. There is an underlying connection to the natural world and our place as Poets in it. This collection is very unique yet diverse. Hopefully we weave a web of interrelated connections of Nature and her four seasons as we knock upon her door, we are dredging up Demeter.

This collection contains the works of: Leesa Abbott, Omavi Victorine, Celestine Nudana, Jacob Appelman, Katy Ottaway,Scott William Kendall, Anna Bianca,Carrie Page and Emily Sturgill.

That last part was added this morning and should show up tomorrow!! I really meant to put it in the first time!!! Sincere apologies!

Everyone worked very hard on this. I really appreciate all the poets for making this happen-I merely had an idea-they supplied all of their talents.

The Draw to the Bright side-

The draw to the bright side~10690209_10202380310584146_6677950030328337425_n

Sometimes we begin,

with the best of all attentions,

but we secretly close ourselves

off. We draw the curtains close. We wear

our sunglasses. We begin to feel that there is

no more bright side,

to this life.

But in reality we have shun

the bright side away.

We close ourselves off to illuminations,

We close ourselves off to blue skies,

sunshine, and warm pretty places.

Suddenly our world slips,

from black & white,

into only gray.

We forget about the light.

And the light itself, it grows its wings,

it flies away,

but only because we refuse,

to seek it out.

Life is not only one-sided.

Everyday, there are equal amounts,

of darkness and light

dancing and playing.

Ask yourself, quite honestly, which are

you seeking? The darkness or the light?

Or the beauty found in both?

A glass neither half empty or half full-

remains just a glass, with some water in it

after all…will you drink it or not?

silly questions…

but still  glass remains just a glass.

Crash &Bash:

Crash & Bash-


I feel as though

I have been letting some

loyal readers down~

i haven’t written much

poetry on my blog

since i left town.

we had an awesome vacation,CAM01704 CAM01702 CAM01701

but now i’m back

hoping dearly nobody has given

up on me entirely.

Life got kinda busy.

The hustle, bustle, besides collecting

poetry for an upcoming


The hustle. bustle, the crash & bash.

The empty time, while I was away,

with nothing to say,

i just was not online.

Life got kinda busy,

The hustle, bustle, the crash & bash,

a stolen vacation,

leaving my blog a bit empty

lonesome but please please

do not forget me & do

forgive all the empty

i left here instead.

it’s just been kinda busy,

the hustle, the bustle, the bash & the crash,

inside my head.

A quiet Saturday

A quiet Saturday-

A quiet day, spent by

sleeping in. Awaking slowly,

into the afternoon, very much

unlike me.

Meditative as the hum drum hum

of our heater fills our bedroom.

All of a sudden, it feels like a game of make believe.

A game of Hide and Seek.

As I search my minds eye-

for some wise words

to live by.

Poetry is a Muse

who often comes and goes,

without much thought or effort

on my part.

She either comes a knocking…

or she does not.

All of a sudden, it feels like a game of make believe.

A game of Hide and Seek.

As I search my minds eye-

for some wise words

to live by.

Some days

I am the first

to admit,

I am a bit

like a gas gauge

stuck on empty.

abstract musings

abstract musings~

solitary seldomness leading

to singleness of thought.

writing on automatic, yet again,

as I gain great comfort

from the thoughtful

all sprawled out

black cat

lying beside me.

she is sleeping

and lost in dreams

of the chase

no doubt

of cat and mouse.

words are somewhat elusive,

sacred but scarce at the same time.

in a momentary flash

words are gone

and a shadow remains

of a small