New Poems

Before we had labels for autism, ADHD and thinking disorders, Suzanne’s kid Charly was spoiled, inattentive, irresponsible and strange. Suzanne told me this story: “In the morning before school, I’d lay out everything he needed to get dressed, and I’d pay him a quarter if he didn’t lose anything. I never had to pay him.” These days when I can't find a shoe or a word, I think about Charly, and I try not to think about labels.

Sometimes it seems life molds our dreams then smashes them to hell, Johnny Weissmuller and Carol Burnett have given us a cue. This is the place to claim your space and do a Tarzan yell! Cheatin’ and lyin’, there’s no denyin’ we’re in for a sorrowful spell, When charlatans are stealing what belongs to me and you, And paid-for men are voted in and twist our laws to hell. So, I can see how it might be that you do not feel well, That you lose hea

In a mesquite tree Highter than my house, I see Geese and rhyme with “peace.”

I asked my friend Virginia Stem Owens, who’s written 13 books and many poems but never a haiku, if she’d write one for my blog. She was getting ready to go to a Lenten talk on Jonah. She called back two hours later with this: Jonah, full of spleen, Lost both to whale and to worm In God’s gotcha game. I loved the way she summarized the story and the humor and alliteration of “God’s gotcha game.” I didn’t mention that Virginia is a well-known Christian writer and was my

Small Talk Small talk is the toad You kiss on your way to find New friends, warts and all. Kim Blittle and I became friends after we bonded over our dislike of small talk. Our conversation set me thinking. What’s the purpose of small talk? We’re all looking for something from other people. When I was younger it was a way to meet guys. Like the princess who kissed frogs to find the one who would turn into a prince. So, I started a poem that turned into a haiku. I had the m