Author: gaia mouse

I am a writer, painter, potter, and photographer. I was drawn to writing late in life due to my professional life as a speech-language pathologist (SLP). This led me to an interest in language, social communication, and writing. I believe creativity heals ourselves and our society, and is a way to find an ethical, sustainable future.

Inferno

each of us
in our private hell.
kafka's endless paperwork
multiplies.
bureaucrats fabricate
interminable statements
we must paste.
pink space 
won't disappear
until exactly
what they want 
is done.

5/31/2020

poem

anything you can talk about 

and everything that you can’t 

is a poem.

crystal frost on your car window

that you don’t defrost

so you can look at it longer,

ignoring the road just a bit.

the hiding place you had as a child.

your cat

definitely your fluffy monster.

the girlfriend you didn’t marry,

the sky at dawn,

a coffee break,

sex at sunset,

half moon sorrow

My Sons

I left in clear dawn

when you were sleeping

curly hair

peeking out from the lair

of night blue quilts

fat cheeks

small noses

eyebrows that wink

and soft smooth lips

I kissed goodnight

in lamplight

Heat

heat

rising from my thighs

tracing an inner path

to my cunt

now blushing warm

and tingling

even though

my husband’s breath

is rhythmically

softly

exhaling

in sleep

Dreaming of Dubai

we journeyed on camels, stately and slow//the wind did blow

our bags held treasures //spice and silk and peacock feathers,

ivory hooks// and parchment books 

the beasts rolled on in desert heat// we had finished all the wheat

as the wind got stronger//the day grew longer

our robes flew with the storm//the land transformed

shelter we sought//but all for naught 

a date palm grove//any living thing but ourselves

we dreamt of souks with crowds//buildings higher than clouds

tipped with gold and marble towers//and fields of flowers

to give her//surrounding a royal blue river

with gliding sailboats//and plenty of goats

In Arabic and Persian poetry, a line of verse frequently consists of two hemistichs of equal length forming a couplet. The two hemistichs of a line rhyme with an aa, bb, cc, etc. pattern in a type of poetry called mathnawi or masnavi.

Sedum Butterfly

I watch the butterfly

stir and 

stretch its amber wings, 

display

fierce eyes of brilliant indigo,

orange trim, and 

four orange sargeant stripes.

Early fall warmth

and the sedum flowers

draped in magenta

are in bloom.

The butterfly 

pumps her wings

in time to the breeze. 

Her strong thread of a tongue

moving in and out,

licking the flower heads.

This warmth will pass;

the oak leaves are turning crimson.

We take pleasure

while we can.