On Improvising: Music Can Dance if you let it.

And now for something completely different. Music Can Dance if you let it. “So, tell me about yourself”  doesn’t sound quite right when the person speaking is in the middle of a pelvic exam. My pelvic exam. What am I supposed to say to that? “Well doc, this time last year  you took my uterus…

Make Your Life Spectacular, Robin Williams Tribute

I’m not one for celebrity, so I have no idea why Robin’s death impacted me so hard. Maybe it’s because I’ve been depressed before, maybe it’s because I do comedy for a living. I don’t know. I just know that I grew up watching this man, loving every minute of it. He was part of…

Twas the Night Before Lessons

Twas The Night Before Lessons By: Deana O’Hara Twas the night before lessons and all through the house, I start praying to the gods of blue grass: Scruggs, Watson & Krauss I’ve played all the rolls both forward and back but no matter how hard I try this new song it’s still whack. It’s easy…

Mending My Life

Well written poetry heals souls. Why bother using an Ivy League vocabulary when the truth is as simple as that? Well written poetry heals souls. When discussing great literature, I catch myself wanting to write as if I’ve graduated from Baylor instead of business college. That makes book reviews difficult for me sometimes. I want to…

Poem: The Cottonwood I lived in as a child…

Added 2:00 pm April 4. — Continuing with poetry month – my newest submission to the group — the prompt was “the cottonwood tree I lived in as a child.” In publishing this on my blog, I caused some confusion in my group — in light of that, I’m going to be more careful and…

Poetry: Leather or Lace

April is poetry month. Today’s prompt was “A Little Love Poem.” Here is mine Leather or Lace? I used to be so afraid. Of your size. Your strength. But your eyes speak peace. You nuzzle my neck I tickle your ears. And we belong to each other. The scoop swoosh scoop of seamless motion step by step…

Poetry: Unfolding a Myth

Don’t be satisfied with stories, how things have gone with others. Unfold your own myth. ~Rumi A Poetic Response by me. Vicariously living off the wishes and dreams of others, She spends her days lost in black and white. Oblivious to her own pulse Her life is spent like a cheap romance novel; Gripping, yet void of…

Metaphors Make Brains Touchy Feely – ScienceNOW

I’m home. I’m ill. Not allowed to ride horses or bikes, doc says I have to rest. So I’m getting caught up on my reading. There are truly some things I wish I could unread – like Ron Paul’s idiotic thought process. Why are people voting for him? He’s a moron. There are other things I’ve…

Poetry: Chasing The Sun

Though cattle low while birds sing And the owl calls out its mourning song The sun waits. The gifted hours of evening’s slumber Silently give way to morning’s heed. Nature stirs with a half opened eye, Waiting for the sound of the sun upon still waters. Nature knows what I do not. Try as I…

A Really Cheesey Poem from 1982

Drinking from dry wells is a waste of time and energy. Poetic interpretation is as much about the state of mind of the reader as it is the writer. Huge shakers full of salt grains really do come in handy when laying your heart on the line. I remember sitting in the school library on October 27,…

Just Breathe

He (sic My father) used to hold his breath and pass out on the streets of Tokyo where his parents were Presbyterian Missionaries. I think he was a little angry: Held breath is the ultimate withholding; you’re not taking anything in, you’re not putting anything out. – Anne Lamott, Plan B Futher Thoughts on Faith….

Poetry: The Brag, I Live

I Live A brag poem, written for Poetry Boot Camp. I’m not supposed to be here. I’m only 15 and an average student. Broken Home Missing Father Alcoholic mother Working to pay my way. Kids like me don’t get scholarships over seas. Until now. I’m in the middle of nowhere, Grimslov College in Sweden. Which is…