Breaking Waters

Fresh water sea gathered around at my knees and feet.

Would the memory fade?

The gentle bear at the edge of a neon street?

The aggressive wallflower that would not give up her nylon seat?

Water, secretly breaking?

May, December, lovers on retreat?

My scattered thoughts…

Re-learning how to ebb, flow and sway?

Watching used to be pilgrims bob in and out of a rainbow bay?

There is a renewed ambiance to my heart.

No matter, how sparse the spark.

A kinship for broken brick streets.

Straight but not narrow with conceit.

Quiet is the comfort with being seated near dark pastels of an ocean at night.

By dawn, a mostly faded memory and I, will move on.


I will grasp hold to the feeling of release.

Such as, holding onto someone with a too tight grip.

Knowing tomorrow they will elude my fingertips.



Stop Making Sense

When young I could not rearrange the shame.

I only heard words such as,

‘You are queer.’

It was then…I drew the terms of isolation near.

Amassed myself in,

ribbons, bows and the pink of fear.

Attending to only,

‘I knew there was something strange about you.’

A parent’s abolishing phrase?

Words only a child can hold dear.

The life we choose does not always make sense. If it hurts no one. It shouldn’t have to.


All the While


No significance to where it came from.

Love, did not grow beneath my nails.

Charm not from the dust kicked up behind my wheels.


neither, the heel.

Nor, from how the heart heals.

I had been let in by way of luck.

Faith, came down only by the shower of your smile.


it is at your welcome,

I wait all the while.



a Butch Rant


Without too much fanfare, a lesbian rant with be performed.  I will generalize, sound sexist, political incorrect and much more.  Which after 50 years on the earth; I honestly do not give a shit, if I offend anyone!

As a gay woman, I have enjoyed loving woman for obvious reasons!  Woman are more nurturing, understanding, better fighters and, for better or worse, brutally honest.

That being said,butch-4

In most relationships, there is a more, manly lesbian.  And, a more feminine lesbian.  Words such as; Femme and Butch, Top and Bottom are used to describe  these  persons.

Of note, these ‘butch’ types of women do not always look like men!  Often they are very frilly.  It is a misnomer to believe we are wear flannel and work-boots.

I do wear flannel and work-boots.  But that by no means says, I want a crew-cut and chains on my wallet.

Chores when you merge with another woman often are divided up without words or written lists.

My rant is very simple.  I love my wife.  I appreciate the pink.  The CK1 perfume.  And, the fact that her underwear matches her bra and her socks.

That said!butch-2

I really do not appreciate having to clean the bathroom drain out when it is clogged!  Somehow over fifteen years of being together; I have been allotted that duty as well as, burying dead birds in the yard!

While she does the laundry and (as I believe she does on purpose) dyes my wife beater’s pink!