Tuesday, November 5, 2013

Amidst forlorn cries,
kittens look with learning eyes
-their new chosen’s smile

Written for Tweetspeak Poetry Press - Weekly Poetry Prompt: Cat Poetry via http://www.tweetspeakpoetry.com/2013/11/04/cat-poetry-the-cats-meow-playlist/

Wednesday, October 9, 2013

On Recapturing Childhood Creativity - A Ghazal

The child who’s lost her hold as age deludes her skeptic girl
Fate knows, and her dreams for you behold optimistic, girl

Where, pray tell, have you misplaced your wildly budding mind’s eye?
Where dreams no longer blossom and betray eccentric, girl

Never ordinary at play any given young day
Reaps older, though rounded spirit -the altruistic girl

The blaze of Life’s to-do lists lets Time’s miser furl its fists
Bares a soul who’s lost her magic –a veiled artistic girl

And I, Marcella, need just stop and look beyond the glare
It’s always been in your child’s eyes to be prolific, girl!

Written for Every Day Poems/Tweetspeak Poetry Press - Weekly Poetry Prompt: Ghazal Poetry via http://www.tweetspeakpoetry.com/2013/10/07/ghazal-poetry/

Featured at Every Day Poems/Tweetspeak Poetry Press at http://www.tweetspeakpoetry.com/2013/10/21/ghazal-poetry-sing-the-childhood-loss/#comment-67784

Featured in Tweetspeak Poetry's Top Ten Posts From the Last Month at http://www.tweetspeakpoetry.com/2013/10/31/tweetspeak-poetrys-top-ten-posts-from-the-last-month-or-so/

Featured at Tweetspeak Poetry - Sing the Childhood Loss at http://www.tweetspeakpoetry.com/2013/10/21/ghazal-poetry-sing-the-childhood-loss/

Sunday, September 8, 2013

Yellow Bus Memories

Yellow bus memories
Of summertime and childhood
Takes me along Western Highway
Seventy plus miles to then Santa Rosa,
District of Cayo,
From City of Belize,
In Central America

Of Batty Brothers Bus Line
By Pound Yard Bridge
Our point of departure
With excitement
And Spanish valises
To chickens up top

Belizeans -to relatives
Tourists -to ancient sites
Among others         
Their well-worn way
From a long work day

Past Spanish Lookout
-a Mennonite town
Where smiles breakout
As miles wind down
Humble homes decorate
Verdant Maya Mountain-scapes
Ah, I feel a belonging!

Next stop, Santa Elena,
Ours, Santa Rosa
Then, San Ignacio Town
-all sculpted by Macal and Mopan
As if separating Our West
From Their East
-I never wondered how we’d gotten along

Oh, but I couldn’t wait
For Mama Tina’s
Hand-made tortillas
In her smoke-filled cocina
Like her mother’s
And her mother’s mother’s

For a daily swim
In the pebble-bottomed river
Pulsing through
My abuelo’s back yard,
Its rocky, tree-lined pathway
Most likely chiseled by his father
And his father’s father

For my cousins,
To show us their games
My aunts and uncles,
To teach us their ways
Gifts handed down
Memories of which, to this day,

Tuesday, July 2, 2013

Waking Up

Before I open my eyes
Before imprints of yesterday
Become visible through sunlit lids
Before I stretch into my persona’s housecoat
I am as grateful as a morning glory
-fully-kissed by the rising sun
I am free as a butterfly floating to nectar
–blissfully unaware of hungry sparrows nearby
I am there –I am that flower -that butterfly
Before my awakening dawns on me

Written for Every Day Poems/T.S. Poetry Press - Tuesday Poetry Prompt: Waking up via https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=554089907988806&set=a.250609428336857.62979.250601428337657&type=1&theater

Thursday, April 25, 2013


Good ole Penelope
Purple people-pleaser
She is
Never one to turn down
A chance
To show us around town

Eyes agog
Always open to fun
She is
Engine panting like a dog
After a mile-long chase
With a wide grin on her face

Neither rain nor snow
Nor age nor sun
That is
Slows this feisty
Little lady
Of a VW Beetle down

Photo by Krow 10, Creative Commons, via Flickr. http://www.flickr.com/photos/krow10/5310616123/in/faves-everydaypoems/

Friday, April 12, 2013

My Book

In my beginning
I sensed my shadow,
but refused to know it
An onionskin tome,
latched and locked
between hardened covers

Always looking away,
I was convinced:
It was too big
It was too heavy
It was not mine
It was a secret

Like a spectre –it loomed
and other shadows
drew upon it –took of it,
marked and tore its pages
In truth, I failed to defend
this misread book

As its edges grew ragged
and creases pierced me,
I wanted –needed
to unlock those stories
Introduce myself
Unfold my life

I heaved its cover,
let go of difficult words,
embraced each page,
smoothed careless dog-ears,
patched abusive tears,
and learned its purpose
-to serve, to love

Now I see it,
I am convinced:
It is big
I can carry it
It is mine
It is to be shared

Many chapters later,
I am peace-in-progress
I now walk with my shadow
Unfolding new stories
This is me –my life
My book to love
My book of love

Written for Every Day Poems Friday Poetry Prompt "Unfold My Life" via 

The Door

The door seems to say
Begging to be looked at
and yet, be looked past
Flaunting its cheeky hue,
though closed, boasts openly

Don’t dwell on my stoop
The door seems to sway
For you see, those lines
my doorstep betrays
are life’s happy tears
worn proudly, by the way

Never mind my stains
The door humbly conveys
Such beautiful luster
from my dutiful hinges
tells of years of service
keeping me in practice

Oh, forget about my sag!
The door casually bids
For they’ve loosened up
-swung open many a day
to hug those bringing joy
my grateful home’s way

Written for Every Day Poems for their "Image-ine" poetry prompt based on "Purple Door" photo by Patrick Feller, Creative commons, via Flickr http://www.flickr.com/photos/nakrnsm/3939131993/sizes/z/in/faves-everydaypoems/
Visit Every Day Poems at: