i’ll be glad when christmas is over
I wrote the poem below in December 2017, a little over a year after my mom died. I have shared it again each December since, when so many people…
I wrote the poem below in December 2017, a little over a year after my mom died. I have shared it again each December since, when so many people…
As I said in another post, conversations I have with people (and sometimes the people themselves), inspire me to write poetry. When I had the good fortune of meeting…
My father was a handsome, intelligent, charming and troubled man. I didn’t know he was a covert narcissist until I began writing Betrayed: Inside a Pathological Love Relationship in early…
I was born at 0600 PST on January 28, 1956. I turn sixty-five today January 28, 2021. It seems like yesterday and several lifetimes ago that I was turning six….
The first time it was clear to me that I was not part of my own family was the summer of 2005, six months after Bobby and I had…
quarantine a short poem by punkie quarantine fearful others choke and smother the right to seek and find destroy fine art and break our hearts with…
a nurse her re rhyme ©2015 by punkie the king is in the parlour, pissed off at his sister the queens are in the pantry finding ways to…
Of these four, which one doesn’t fit: rug, egg, drum, sex? I remember the question. I remember the answer. But I’ll be damned if I remember the rest of the…
“DITTO!” was all it took to bring tears to me eyes. You wouldn’t think one word at the end of a tweet from someone you don’t “know,” retweeted by someone…
In the summer of 2012, I was cracking up (not in a good way). I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. So I did both. Often. And intensely. Things…