Thursday, June 4, 2026

Isla Mujeres

Isla Mujeres,
it will always be ours. 
the gatorade blue water, 
clear as crystal, it will 
always be ours. 
the yellow ferry boat floating between 
land and island, 
music drifting from the man's guitar, 
it is ours too.
the sand white, bright, like clean teeth, 
bustling streets, foot travelers, 
the tiny motorbikes, the helmets, 
the fuchsia pink flowers 
fanning their petaled skirts just for us, 
ours. 
the room on the top floor, 
lots of windows with no glass, 
breeze and sun enter and exit at 
their leisure, 
the shade of lime and whitestone shielding us, 
the newlyweds, 
as we fall into each other each night, 
each day, 
any time we close the door really, 
those handful of sacred firsts as 
husband and wife, 
enveloped in our own garden of 
eden, 
ours, and ours only. 
Isla Mujeres,  with its pinky sized glass cokes, 
pocket of sun sized cervesas,
el pok huk with the sign made of red bean sea shells, 
the silky black bean soup,
the nachos piled high, 
they will always be ours. 
we hold these precious memories 
close to our hearts, 
warming us until we might find ourselves
back there, 
when we can, 
if we can. 
still wed. still new. 
beautiful isla mujeres, 
will always be ours.  
 
*we are slated to return after visiting 3 times in the history of our marriage, 
july 2026, in celebration of our 19th wedding anniversary!

Thursday, May 28, 2026

the phone is bone dry. 
not even a dusty notification tumbleweed rumblin’ by.
straight up sand paper cactus desert storm
dehydration california drought mode dry,
and I am left a bit lonelier, 
but a whole lot more peaceful.
instead:
journal is full of hand written thoughts, mind is 
quieter, slower paced,
clearer, and I can hear myself think.
I am cracking open books again, devouring poetry, learning new words,
inspiration is finally being given a chance to unfurl,
rather than being choked out by electrical noise.
I am working my way through hours of classic composers, 
I’ve added old friends, Brahams, Sergei Prokoviev, 
and Shostakovich,
welcome to my Crosley speaker, 
please enter my ears freely and please
 stay as 
long as you’d like..

Wednesday, May 27, 2026

8:45am

 joy bubbled up, 
as i sipped my first few sips 
of coffee, 
(a fluffy brown sugar espresso, 
might i add) 
i watched the sun peek through the trees 
and wink right at me,
and kiss both my cheeks
with his delicious warmth. 
this is the day 
that the Lord has made, 
i will rejoice
and be glad.
explore my face, my cheeks, 
my eyes, 
measuring the length of my neck 
with kisses, 
how many?
how long?
10 kisses perhaps?
12?
make love to me 
using just your eyes
i am your pleasure island
and you are mine
be wild with me 
but hold me secure.

Tuesday, May 26, 2026

There was really something majestic in that horse's figure 
and in the terrible union in him of repulsive indications of
decreptitude, emphasized by the motley color of his hair, 
and his manner which expressed the self-confidence and 
calm assurance that go with beauty and strength. Like a 
living ruin he stood alone in the midst of the dewey 
meadow..

-from Kholstromer, a Horse named Yardstick, 
by Leo Tolstoy