NaPoWrMo #5: Sister Mary's Morning Headlines

 Happy Easter!

Sister Mary’s Morning Headlines

Women came to the tomb

Searching for what they

Were bound to take care of

The washing, preparing the body

For a long silence

Startled they fell down

In fear, frozen

That Jesus, who they loved was gone twice

An angel told them not to worry

He was not there

Yet, Jesus came to the women

To tell them in person

He was here

He is alive

They were filled with joy twice

Shouting in hearing his voice

Knowing he is living among them

They let it ring,

To all men, let go of fear and suffering,

Hallelujah, he is risen indeed!

NaPoWrMo #4: Between Death and Resurrection

 Nothing too profound, just the day before Easter that brought a few observations to mind about Jesus.

In Between Death and Resurrection

He went to hell for a day

His destiny not completed

His time on Earth was thirty years

Before he started his ministry

Yet he had always been

No more to roam among men

Cold, gone but not finished

Lying in wait for the spirit

To meet the body again,

He walked a strange road

That was one entry

Looking for the reentry

The light at the end of a long tunnel

Would come with the first ray

Of morning light

NaWrPoMo #3: Lady Moon

 April 3, 2026, A short, basic poem tonight as I stare out my window at the moon.

 

Lady Moon

The moon so high

In the sky

I wonder why

They call it a guy.

To me the pale, soft light

Relaxes everything that is tight

In gentle arms I rest

Like a mother’s safe, warm nest

She sings to me her lullaby

“Goodnight, goodnight,” she sighs, “goodnight.”

NaPoWrMo Poem #2: Autós + ism

 April 2, 2026, World Autism Acceptance Day

 

Autós + ism

Self-reflection

Looking into one’s face

To find what is behind the eyes

The lips that move

Saying the same phrase

Till it is deeply internalized

To morph into its own definition

Of self-soothing or a nest

Where one rests

In the familiar

Soft landing

Where it is hard to leave

Because it is so comfortable

The selfdom is its own castle

On a hill

Set against the sky

It stand

While the winds whip

Around it

Sighing that they cannot penetrate

The rock-hewn exteriors

Impressive with their own beauty

But nothing like the treasures within

Where the self- assured conversations

Are rich and flowing

From room to room to room

Dancing in the ball of self-absorption

That is a party of one

Conducting the invisible orchestra

That eternally plays

The selfsame song

NAPOWRMO 2026: Fool's Kiss

 It is that month again, April is National Poetry Month! All month, I give myself 10 minutes each day to spit out a poem. Here is today's offering. 

It just popped into my mind on the way home from school today. All those spring teenage hormones racing around in every hallway!

Fool’s Kiss

Lips, soft, supple meet

Art by Lora Zombie

It is the first time to greet

It is hello down below

Upstairs is dueling

If anything should show

Who they know

Why are they there

If there is something else to share

Just smack-a-doodle-do!

It’s fun until someone sues

The suction smashes all insight

Not a swing and a miss

Tonight’s right is all about the kiss

A poem to help me grieve and let go.

December 11, 2025, for Christine

Singing the Blues for a Friend

I feel like a hollowed-out shell

Grief has scooped out what I was

Who was there is gone

That part of me that lived

The “it” that loved

Died with you

Time does not erase it

Yet it will ease

Into a soft goo

That sloshes around

All year, until the sharpness

Invades to whisper

Then shout about your absence

The softness turns to rock

Weighing me down

Into darkness

This is the normal routine

How I slide year after year

Into a growly space

At no one in particular

Except sideways at you

For leaving too soon

Especially the way you left

I am bereft because it didn’t need to be

In this sea of people, you chose me

To friend and I too chose you

You left without me

I’m still saying, “It can’t be.”

We said we were friends

You chose your end

Instead of weathering this together

I admired your strength

You made me think about others, always

You had your gracious ways

To tend to those who need a place

You gave them a space

For yourself, I knew you felt hollow

You couldn’t swallow what was happening

I said, “Lean on me.”

Maybe not enough

Is it ever that rough?

I thought you were so tough

“She’ll make it,” I said

Instead, you had to go

I didn’t know

I miss you so

And will each year

As the rock grows bigger

I’ll put on a song for you

It has to be some good blues

To wash that space inside

Cleaned out

Filled

Restored

No one should be ignored

I go on to find another friend

To be there with them

Determined for no lonely end

 

 

November Playwrighting 30: (and done!) Grief, Bird, Sister Play

 I won't be posting the raw material here any more past this month, but it did keep me going and honest having the pressure to post each day. There are some things that have potential, and I'll get them into shape to see if they have a real life ahead of them. Thanks to the few faithful people who have checked the blog most days to read. Drop me a line if anything in particular you liked and think has a life beyond this month of writing.

I should find out tomorrow or Tuesday the final stats on the month and how many playwrights did all 30 entries. I did, so I should win a prize! I'll do one last blog entry on that to let you know. 

_____________________________________________

(SAMMY and SHEILA ENTER)

                                SHEILA

Wow, you should have seen it!

                                JAMIE

See what?

                                SHEILA

Sammy, you tell them.

(SAMMY gets very excited and hops romps across the room)

I know. I know. Do you think you can put it into words? I think they’d love to hear about it.

                                KATIE

I certainly want to hear about it.

(SAMMY stops romping to speak)

                                SAMMY

It stared at me for ten minutes!

                                SHEILA

I’m glad you called me; I wouldn’t have believed it.

                                JAMIE

What already?

                                SHEILA

Patience. (to SAMMY) Keep going and tell them.

                                SAMMY

Enormous! Not supposed to be that big! Looking at me!

                                KATIE

What? What is it?

                                SAMMY

A n…n…n..northern sp..sp..spotted owl!

                                KATIE

I’ve seen owls around here.

                                SAMMY

Not the Northern Spotted Owl!

                                SHEILA

He said it is pretty rare around here. Endangered species.

                                KATIE AND JAMIE

Oh!

                                JAMIE

That is exciting.

                                SAMMY

It is!

                                KATIE

Sammy, should you tell someone, since it is endangered?

                                SAMMY

Yes!

                                KATIE

Where does it live, you think?

                                SAMMY

Outside my bedroom!

                                JAMIE

Really!

                                KATIE

I don’t think I’d want a big owl outside my window. Weren’t you scared?

                                SAMMY

No. It loves me.

                                JAMIE

Wow, loves you.

                                SAMMY

Yes!

                                KATIE

Did it do something special to indicate it liked you?

                            SAMMY

It did.

                                JAMIE

What? Tap dance?

                                SAMMY

Owls do not tap dance.

                                JAMIE

Of course not.

                                SAMMY

It would not look away. For ten minutes.

                                KATIE

Ten minutes is a long time, are you sure?

                                SHEILA

Oh, don’t challenge him on that, as his internal clock is never wrong.

                                KATIE

Ok, but that is a little weird, a bird just flies to your window and stares at you for ten minutes.

                                SAMMY

It wanted to speak.

                                KATIE

Speak?

                                JAMIE

Oh, this I’ve got to hear.

                                SHEILA

He has a theory, but that’s… He’s just excited. It’s… go ahead and tell them.

(SAMMY romps across the room and back)

                                SAMMY

Owls are known as wise in some cultures and in some stories a bad omen or a bringer of death. When a rare owl comes to your window, it is seen as a sp…sp…spirit messenger.

                                KATIE

You mean a spiritual messenger?

                                JAMIE

An angel.

                                SAMMY

A spirit of someone that gives a message to the living. Not an angel. Angels are from God to man.

                                JAMIE

Who is this from?

                                SAMMY

Papa!

                                JAMIE

Oh, Sammy.

                                KATIE

Sammy.

                                SAMMY

Yes! The owl was looking at me. It knows. I had to call Mama to see it. Papa, at the window.

                                SHEILA

Sammy, it was a beautiful owl. He seemed fascinated with you. I’m sorry I broke the spell and scared him away, but I’m glad you let me see him.

                                SAMMY

Papa at the window. He wants in. He wants in.

(SAMMY curls into SHEILA)

He wants in.