Month: May 2017

Irony

A Farce of nature.

How long can I wait?

  I stand here, waiting, hoping you will forgive me. Berating, debating This feeling, castrating. (words and painting by CD-W)

Do you see me?

  Do you see me? Truly see me? Through this canvas, through this paint? Of course I posed, And then I smiled, But, dear, I am no saint. (poem and art by my CD-W)

A Poet’s Hands

Hands. Mine only hold this journal. Only the extremities of an invisible will turn the pages, a wind blowing each folio to the next, unaware of the marks of my pen. Knowing this, frees me.   The apparition will lurk in the abyss, or stand…

Is the third time a charm?

  What words then do I write When the ink is not to trust? A plethora of letters yes! The thoughts, themselves, disgust. Do I have words left to say That will not cause alarm? Can I wake and try again The third, perhaps, a charm?…

You know how they say …

  Well, I say: Keep Qualm and write poetry because for me, many of the best poems stem from self-doubt, worry, and unease. Here’s one I memorized in the 70’s because I loved Rod McKuen’s poetry. Clouds are not the cheeks of angels you…

Collaboration

with style and grace.   Not so much here but you have to admire a man who could care less what he looked like at a Trump inauguration. Daily word prompt: Collaboration

When life doesn’t listen, don’t give up – a personal story

A long time ago, when I wore these tiny boots, I didn’t know who or what I would grow up to be. What I did visualize at a young age, was that, no matter what, I would be a mother. But life doesn’t always listen to…

Mothers or Not

Today, mothers must dance. And, if you are not a mother, dance with them.

Fighting for rights

A man, close to the front, pumped his fist. “My wife don’t have time for more learning. We got six kids needing supper on the table.” A melee of querulous male voices erupted from the crowd. “Why do women prostitute themselves to the abnormal…