Purple's Platitudes

nothing but words …

I write

14 March 2014



You inspire me,

I know, it’s true,

how cool,

like flint and steel,

sparks ignite,

and I write.


It’s what we do,

become a Muse,

light a fire,


Is that so absurd,

a word or phrase,

becomes a bird,

takes flight

I write.


Creativity flows,

we should know,

within and without,

with gratitude

my heart’s in tune

to what’s about.


Don’t need lightning,

something deep, or frightening,

for ideas to take flight,

like waterfalls,

with whispered calls,

I listen and I write.



14 March, 2014 Posted by | Poetry | | Leave a comment

like Emily

14 March 2014



she fringed her way



everyone else

while few

even glanced her way

oh sure, a few

would nod or smile

or say something

in their own way

but she never felt


like she fit in

with the crowd

the clicks were formed

and outsiders

were politely tolerated

but not encouraged

to be around

so she retreated

and withdrew

denied her loneliness

it wasn’t worth it

to belong

as an artificial guest

no fault no blame

no guilt no shame

she’ll simply be

like Emily

writing letters to

the world

which never wrote to me.




14 March, 2014 Posted by | Poetry | | Leave a comment

then and now and sometimes never

14 March 2014



it’s not like you just add water and POOF!

everything makes sense and you understand.

Nothing in life seems to work out that way.

I, for one, am glad that it never does.

Sure it’s painful, and maddening at times

to ask Why? over and over again,

but it is the process, the going through,

the searching for which sometimes brings us peace.

Not always though, even if we believe

that everything happens for a reason.

There may always be things we cannot know.

In time, we learn to accept, to say I

didn’t understand it then, but I do

now, even if the questions never end.



(written for Kellie Elmore’s FWF)




14 March, 2014 Posted by | Poetry | | Leave a comment

I can see you’re thirsty

14 March 2014



I had a silver scrying bowl

I gazed into each day

it never showed me anything

no matter how I prayed

I possessed no gift for seeing

this water-filled trinket

there’s nothing left to do with it

but let my cat drink it.



14 March, 2014 Posted by | Poetry | | Leave a comment


14 March 2014


“I’ll stop the world and melt with you”




snow-covered sidewalks

late at night

makes no sense.

Tomorrow’s high, fifty-four

should melt it away.


City plows

clearing streets of snow,

all night long.

seems pointless,

like trying to stop the world,

or melting with you.



14 March, 2014 Posted by | Poetry | , | Leave a comment