country music

Country music It’s on the radio in this small Nevada town Where it fits Though rock and hip hop are available The open road and whiskey blues Make more sense The alkaline soil and sagebrush Slowly nod To the twang of guitar broken hearts and pick up trucks from patsy cline willie nelson and now chris stapleton it’s all good as they question their sanity in a ¾ waltz.

hmmmm

apparently I have forgotten how to use this blog...my previous two posts are all smashed together like a run-on sentence/paragraph. arggghhhh.

I’m not that person

As I reread books poems from Years past I kind of feel sorry for that person She who always worried too much About her children Who allowed herself to get caught up In demeaning relationships Who seemed to thrive on crisis attempted to control life And wrote all about it Spilled every angry bean Every self deprecating bean And writing was the therapy But now I’m not that person Did I just mellow with age? Or find such a well-balanced relationship? Not really Cause I do like the go go go Of activity Things like burningman and steampunk Of art and lots of friends And the relationship? I’m a mistress to a fabulous guy And I’m happy with that Afraid if he actually moved in I’d find something to pick at But all this happiness Results in no poetry No longer needing the therapy The poems slip away

national poetry month

the challenge is to write a poem a day but as evidenced from my last post being in 2011 this is more challenging for me who hasn't written in over two years so i'll take a stab at it though they may not be any good though i never was any judge about my own stuff shocked at what editors accepted or rejected the blog takes it all.

angel tree

one year on the rez
i picked a boy and girl’s name
from the angel tree
bought them winter jackets
hats gloves
a play outfit
and jammies
a week after Christmas
was surprised to see
my niece and nephew
wearing the clothes i bought
i just said
‘nice jacket’
and they smiled.
--nila northSun

me and my daughter, mishon at bman 2011

 

6 years of yesterday

deep inside a howling darkness
her forearms are sliced
the skin spread
sown back with
thick thread
6 years of yesterday
hidden
under the bed.