Category Archives: The Pen

Morning Flight


image credit Tommy Stone

with ebon wings and gentle brush

takes canvas cold and blue

a softer blend that builds and builds

till sun flings up a brighter hue

and when the color catches fire

suddenly the artist free

takes flight no more to tire

soars high above the trees

they say the wind upholds their wings

but I would say it’s light

to rise above a silent pond

and join the morning flight

Quiet Goodnight

Tommy Stone Photo

Photo Credit Tommy Stone

hush now

don’t fear the dark
everything must sleep
every living thing
does the sky not tell you?
Do the shadows not close your eyes?
Let the sound of the water
sing a lullaby
let the soft breeze rock
your tired bones
all must nestle down and
curl around the earth
for warmth and peace

New Day


The morning smells like hope

is blowing in on fall winds

Sky sets fire to yesterday’s trouble

as trees raise a new day from the cold ashes.


Photo Credit: Tommy Stone



morning waits
just beyond the treeline
and for a moment
night hangs on to the sky
by the tip of ragged branches
shivering in the early morning chill
stretching for the sun
even before it appears
how do they know?
the pond whispers
and they listen

Photo credit: Tommy Stone

Bon Voyage Friend

The Paris Poets Society met tonight to say farewell to a member who is moving away. She will be greatly missed. What could I give her but a poem. See you later Sharda.


We are the lucky ones

The gifted, slightly crazy ones

Who see the world in brighter hues

With hearts too big to make us choose

We make one singing moment freeze

Or gobble eternity if we please

Paint with sunlight, wind and moon

Voice a storm, pour out monsoon

Open heart, to throat, to pen

And give it to the world again

Young or old, joyful, shattered

sing or whisper, doesn’t matter

Use your words, we tell a child

But poets play with words and smile

We know a secret, so look around

We share our souls where poems abound

The View From Here

endless conversations with each other and with God

fall again and again on deaf ears, an effort odd

in that the talk is not the walk and hearts are never

in the mix we want to fix but no one touches ever

what we know, we KNOW is always at the center there’s a door

we knock and knock and kick the wood but cannot enter

like a monkey grasps his food and keeps his hand so stuck so frozen

what the hell, we have to let it go stop clinging to our right, our might

our rotten self and staunch the bleeding, no one’s leading

all just follow this way that way on the surface storm is coming

drums are drumming but the sound is drowned by weeping

creeping up knee deep in rage we leap, all so surprised to find

it’s US not THEM, WE have to be the father, mother, sister, brother

for each other, EACH is precious, EACH is special, ALL are crucial

to survival, every loss in death or life diminishes and finishes the coffin nails

we are a chain our dna, our history, a convoluted mystery

a constant pattern of election then rejection events conspire to reconnection

a spark divine, love for creation, yet birthing seeds of self-destruction

drugged by image constant movement busy busy blur the lines

build a hideout cave to crouch in, turn the lights out, shut the blinds

we like to say we’re different, kinder, better, smarter, kneeling at the perfect altar

never stopping to discern, we set ourselves as little gods, then falter

stumble on our souls refusing to acknowledge cost we’re lost and yet

the hope that lives in each potential when we see that you are me

and I am you all swimming in a great deep sea, starving though to love is free

to feed each other, hold a hand, the only way to reach the sand

the water rising, talk is cheap, deep and deeper, still we sleep

wake, arise, the need is great, stop bailing water, fix the boat

all together we sink or float.

Sky Dancing


the clouds are busy

dancing twirling

building castles

boiling, swirling

dressed in homespun

verse and chorus

every step, performance for us

waves of music

played by wind

partners changing

dip and spin

then joy poured out

tears wash the earth

wiped clean by sun

the sky gives birth

to clouds again

and more and more

while on the ground

we dream to soar


Photo Credit: Tommy Stone



clouds may hide the sun

but cannot hide the light

through grey of dusk

a blush still peeks

soft as eyelash

on pink soft cheeks

silken brush till day is done

calls forth the stars to say goodnight


Photo Credit Tommy Stone


erased emotions strewn about
like clothing on the bedroom floor
in the corner a pile of shout
a few fears hid behind the door

hope peeps out from under the bed
erased emotions strewn about
can they be poked back in her head
gathered in piles of stinking doubt

venomous words from an angry mouth
it will take a lot to clean this mess
erased emotions strewn about
tear stained carpet and wrinkled stress

gather it up and launder all
love and laughter to take stains out
fold it fresh the weekly call
erased emotions strewn about

more work on quaterns using lines from some older poems

Move Your Feet

more time moving, less time talking
prescription for what ails us all
when angered take yourself a walking
footsteps echo down a dark hall

throw the locked doors open wide
more time moving, less time talking
swing your arms, lengthen your stride
eyes wide open at beauty gawking

find the peace that has been lacking
heal the cuts and bruises over
more time moving, less time talking
breathe the air and smell the clover

world looks better a little blurred
if you find yourself disturbed
take some time, go nature stalking
more time moving, less time talking

working with Quaterns – four 8 syllable quatrains, Refrain is repeated as line 1 of stanza 1, line 2 of stanza 2, line 3 of stanza 3 and line 4 of stanza 4.

The Weight of Anger

the weight of anger
is immense
tense and tiresome
dragging the heart down to the
level of nothing good
no laughter, no singing
it steals your voice and takes
all your choices for itself
it changes all the colors like
some bad adjustment, all tinged with
mad, sad, hurt, can’t even separate the parts
the heart beats faster and I hear
that tone in my voice you know
the one that sounds like
a banshee, like fingernails
on chalkboards
like a lonely cat
back up, fur bristled
like thistles. prickle
changed no longer
who I am but taken
by the weight
of anger

Lessons From a Statue

Photographer Tommy Stone

Photo credit: Tommy Stone

wings raised in
perpetual readiness
shuttered lids
warmed by a winter sun
nestled in the green
there are lessons here
and prayers
be still
be prepared
stay warm
find a safe place
calm whispers
in a world of chaos


As always, thank you Tommy for inspiration.

It’s My Birthday and I’ll Write if I Want To…


Beautiful photo by Tommy Stone

sandwiched in between all the black
you know the clouds that move in unexpectedly and stay longer than you wish
no invitation, just plop down at your door with suitcase overflowing
taking over the guest room and hogging the remote
eating up the last piece of cake and tracking all over your clean bright floors

but I digress, sandwiched in-between, that’s where I was…
there is this light that dances just on the edge of your vision
creeps in with a little finesse unlike that pesky black shadow that
just wants to take over
it lingers as long as it can
hanging on by fingertips and branch endings, tossing a little pastel silk
over all that dark velvet
reminding you that darkness like uninvited company
does not stay forever
even as it sinks to the ground the last veil drifts by
pats your cheek and tucks you in
making shadow puppets on your heart
soft as a mother’s sigh

Gold Before Dusk

even sky holds on to light
climax of the final act
crescendo golden notes to play
sing the evening welcome home
gilding leaf and branch and pond
softened green and cooling air
sigh as though to say
remember this when darkness falls
a memory of day

The Wisdom of Stones

be still
cling to the mountainside
or bottom of the rushing stream
change comes but if you wait
long enough
the pain will pass
rough edges smoothed
story revealed
of storms weathered
flood endured
sunbaked and wind burned
lines deepened
memories etched
soul remains

Crow Song

scolding scalding caws
and claws on blackboards
chords of older songs
seemed stronger longer than
the days the slower ways
the crow says as he flies
gray skies hold promises of storm
the walls the hallowed halls or
moral qualms inspire psalms
and layers of prayers from absent
mothers, fathers, calms the beast
that feasts on young and
rears a greedy head and wed
to things that never last we
cast our nets and bring them
back and weep for tatters
scatter seed in empty hands
attempt to quench the thirst
with sand the wooden skeletal
remains of boats, of pain
of what was meant, not what was sent
still gazing up we question why
but crow just circles empty sky
while clouds bear witness to a lie
we bought and fought for holding tight
to grasping clasping wringing hands
we’re tied to land with dampened wings
and crows can fly but never sing


make me see exuberance
green shoots burst, as though by chance
an open arms, explosive dance
a carnival of sight

make me smell the sweetened air
of wildflower jewels with petals fair
enticing bees as if a dare
sun bright and deep as night

let me hear the softest tune
of buzzing bees and birds in June
of whippoorwill that sings to moon
though hidden from the light

remind me when the winter snow
brings silence to the soft meadow
and color sleeps in frost below
the world dressed black and white

sweet warmth will come again to me
the first steps of the dance will be
proof of the perfect victory
life wins the final fight

Burning Sky

unseen we breathed it in
and then back out again
until the fire lived inside
and darkness grew within our hearts
and tore love from inside the parts
of us we held so dear and deep and near
the brightest sun sank in the sea
and no one no where left to flee
a blood red sky knelt down and wept
and all that breathed was quickly swept
up in the raging flames burned all
to ash yesterday’s games a memory
but sadly no one left to see


(from a friend’s photograph)