Category Archives: the craft of writing.



Devils sleep in your dream bed

They mostly abide in Story’s head

Around and around the tale does go

When they tempt and tease at life’s flow

Avoid the under tow


Waking, you wonder the truth of it all

These dreams of said devils, an angel’s fall

Once pure and white, at heaven’s pearly gate

To Hades tis said you go in flames and wait

You can break that date


Depends where beliefs fill your minds

Depends where fear holds and abides

Depends if these devils have a hold on you

Peel fear away and you get to choose

Don’t be misused


There is no telling you what to believe

When we all want to live, love, and receive

Seven Billion strong on a floating orb

Where power and greed hunger for more

Have love at your core


“Devil be gone” a cry from within

You believe you deserve punishment for sin

Love has not left you, you are Spirit’s child

Awaken to Love you are not exiled

Sit with peace awhile


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Filed under A Pilgrams Journey, a sacred life, jeanne adwani, Jeanne Beauchamp, MICHIGAN POET, Resurrection, the craft of writing., Ypsilanti Poet

Do Not Enter…

This poem comes from a prompt of Jill Badonsky.    “Write to expose those things that need light to be shed upon them.”

What are those place within and around that have a ‘Do Not Enter’ sign on them?


It wasn’t hard to push at that mind space

The sign, Do Not Enter, was a lazy drape over the frontal lobe

Almost like it was ready to slip right out my open mouth

With a sudden blurt, an uninhibited want to speak the hidden

How many times had it been readjusted perfectly to ward that off?


The mind was churning with want to expose

The  heart voice hoped to know better of it

The bubble and brew within the cranial housing

couldn’t hold the thoughts old and hungry for release

Readjusting the signs yet again hoping no one would knock


Hoping that what needed to fly out into the open

could be contained

a little longer,

a little longer

just a little longer.


Clarity’s want gave one hard pound on the bony surface

Took hold of that Do Not Enter sagging there

Flipped it off like a spider on a shoulder

Out rolled the hurt, the frustration,

The holding on for dear life.


It wasn’t meant to hurt the beloved traveling The Path

Only to speak to what drives the hurt

What lays waste to  dreams

What shudders and boils old fear

And here we are blistered, peeling pain off


Never was the want of clarity so unclear

There is no re-hanging the Do Not Enter

There is no taking back what needed saying

The sign fell and seethes in the pot of life’s letting go

Adding single drops of forgiveness to get it right again

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Filed under BETRAYAL, jill badonsky prompt, Love's lament, MICHIGAN POET, Resurrection, the craft of writing., WRITER'S PROMPT, Ypsilanti Poet


The invitation from the , Day 6, site is to write a ‘aubade’.  An aubade poem comes from those flirty French, and  is  a poem written about the break of day when lovers must part.   It has a lament about the parting of the shared night of love, or whatever the share might have been.  Only, that now, as the day rises, it is time to go.

Mikhail Feldman nude small


I am tangled in the sheet of you

Wrapped tight in the weave of night

Ornamented by where your lips

Found my unseen scars


I handpicked a star to light

The path of how your tongue

Found my moist vulnerability

My land quaked with yours


An now in the sliver crescent

Of Sun rising a whisper of

Goodbye unravels the braid of us

Curls the edges of departure


Around our naked night spent

And you take that thin silver

Thread left between us out

The door into the wake of day

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Filed under aubade, Love's lament, SPRING, the craft of writing., WRITER'S PROMPTS

This a summer of…

Wholy Grail.

Wholy Grail.

This is a summer of gathering

letting go, remembering,

moving, finding a new groove


This is summer of fear found

fear release, surrendering.

making space for new possibilities


This is a summer of edges

pushed, hanging on for dear life.

standing in the Center.


This is a summer of startled resistance

Deepening into the forever after of

when Oneness calls to the let it all go


This is a summer when angst

outgrew herself for peaceful resolution

On fresh pages freed for a new story


This is a summer when what needed 

to get together got to together in the 

seamless love given by others.


This is a summer of gratitudes fruition

When to give is to receive and to

receive fills the giving cup


This is a summer when the heart prism 

finds the clarity in the crystal

Catching all light in her opening


This is a summer still happening

in the calm of moments accepted 

In the trust of how the Infinite unfolds




Filed under HAPPINESS, JOY, michigan, SUMMER, the craft of writing., TRUTH, WRITER'S PROMPT, YPSILANTI

A hallow in the forest.

I was remembering a place I lived where five pines were set in the pattern of a pentagram, a star.  When I stood in the center of these woods, the center of this pentagram, I felt the awareness of some magic unspoken yet given without any asking.  Now, I let my imagination take me there in the honor of what remains and is yet to unfold.

white pine forest~~~~~~~

There’s a hallow in the woods

Of white pines and needles

Of sticky sap and cones

Made for quiet in the ritual

of how the nature of things

needs the sacred prayer inside and out


The way in is not made difficult

No treachery found on this path

Of this forest that shelters her creatures

Beneath the moss to the steepled branches

All hailed up to heaven in winged flight


Take in the inhale in the imagine of trees

Not all have the woods to retreat to

In the minds eye any Path can be made

To the vast anywhere, in the anytime of it.

Made sacred for the intent holy in the hallows


Be contemplative from the hearts call

In the meditative center of how green and sky

Bark and twig messages you to the center

In the ritual of how the nature of nature

needs your prayers inside and out for healing

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Filed under ANN ARBOR, michigan, NATURE, the craft of writing., WRITER'S PROMPTS

Old Journals and the-way-back-then in the Now

I remember the decades ago of writing every bit of angst that drooled out of me, in journals that I have long since lost.  There is a part of me that would like to see what held me to all that youthful drive and desire of those yesterdays in the way back then.   Handwritten reams of strung together words that laid my life out on paper.  Back then, I didn’t share my journals.  Private, only for my eyes to reread, if I would have ever bothered to.  It was in the process of letting it all roll out on paper, getting IT all out of me in a spew of feelings that found writing a way in and a way out of my life.

This Year finds it closure soon.  A time that reminisce finds a place to linger and gives rise to what has gone before.  Much of that for me, will lay in the corners of what has been written for my eyes only, in the un-shareable stories that I will likely not read ever again;  Tho’ I will ruminate in the heart of them; in the birth, death, life of them, in the joy, sorrow, laughter and tears of them.



There is no new year only new moments

pressed together one after the other after the other

In moon shine and sunlight, of darkness in the

Light of  all that has been seen as it rolls through and

around in the cycle of life, in the living of the moment


Gone are ‘The Days’ left for the stories to be told

In the history of what was and now is not

What was may have its linger only to hold

The past in some compartment stowaway

For what reason can only be told by the storyteller


Oh how well we hold to the story of a life as it’s been

And a life that might be to forget what IS

In each moment that gives of it’s self again and again

And all that Sunlight and Moonshine, and days

And more days to live this life till the breath of us leaves

And what matters on that last exhale is Love and peace


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Filed under BE HERE NOW, BIRTH. LIFE. DEATH, DEATH, MEMORY, michigan, the craft of writing.