• Stacy L. M. commented on the post, swept 2 years, 6 months ago


    I never meant to go, was merely taken by mistake. A night-ride along a whim. I was simply following the tail-end of a moon-beam. But suddenly I was there, somewhere but no where at all. A wanderer in a forest-full of green and dreams. Something like Alice, I pushed my hands into the atmosphere and swam.

  • “Amplified”

    The noise inside my mind. The muffled glare of the city streets beyond my window. They glow a world their own. Footfalls of pedestrians who travel in circles across the sidewalks. The blare of traffic horns, almost musical. The heart I hear between my ears when I read words that pull at my panic chords. I am but a filament of…[Read more]

  • Stacy L. M. commented on the post, misery 2 years, 6 months ago


    This word always makes me think of locked closet doors and broken ankles. About a mouth that can’t form the words that heart has to say. Maybe because they don’t speak the same language. Mostly I remember rooms darkened of vacant stares, bound by the principle of misunderstanding. Poised for war, I sit center square, pen waving the…[Read more]

  • Stacy L. M. commented on the post, eyeliner 2 years, 8 months ago


    I was eleven years old when I first discovered the chalky black buried beneath an avalanche of my mother’s make=up. sparingly worn. I tried it on as a child tried crayons…smoothing it beneath each eye, across my brows until they were charco-black before masking my face in cold cream (also my mothers). Eyeliner and I never met…[Read more]

  • Stacy L. M. commented on the post, shoes 2 years, 8 months ago


    As a kid I hated them. Preferring, instead, to scratch callouses into the soles of my feet by the rough back-hands of gravel. No Spring was complete without a traipse through fresh rain-puddles; no summer quite as sweet without the tickling drops of dew across thin ankles. These days shoe-bags line my closet. Cup upon cup for my…[Read more]

  • Stacy L. M. commented on the post, shore 2 years, 8 months ago


    I used to abhor the beach. Who needs a tan or those stiff plastic chairs, colorful as clown shoes? Or the iffy tourists in shiny skin whose bikini’s just yell, “See Me?” Until I was nearly thirty, I never learned to appreciate the moon-cloud reflection, clipped into a thousand sky-lit reflections. Or the water, how like time, it…[Read more]

  • Stacy L. M. commented on the post, anthem 2 years, 8 months ago


    That melodic epiphany that floats between the lips of teenagers. The vibrating thrill of your throat-muscle enunciating some symbolic word among a crowd. Life-speak undulating across your tongue like so many separate atoms becoming one. And so you can’t help but sing your own chords against the steady stream of spirit-dance.

  • Stacy L. M. commented on the post, dizzy 2 years, 8 months ago

    An overwhelming far-reach. Invisible. Inside my mind. An unrequited force of the equilibrium. I become a modern-day Alice in my steadily-stumbling-downward. I quiet my mind in meditation pose and suddenly the world spins itself. A shiny brain-wave vortex for which my daydreams are no match.

  • Stacy L. M. commented on the post, jump 2 years, 9 months ago

    Not even thinking, I always take the dive. I prefer to align my life by the idea of duplicity. There are often two sides to every story, and an in-between. I speak my words, spin the wheel, roll the dice and await my destiny.

  • Stacy L. M. commented on the post, tutorial 2 years, 9 months ago

    You read them in a hurry, small type as incovenient as the unheeded college manuals that get tossed along the wayside with last semsters half-written term papers. Except there’s no such written documentation for the best way to be born, no choice in the matter of death or what conspires thereafter. So we sit in chairs, backs against metal, pens…[Read more]

  • They echo from down a dark hall. Across empty intersections at a cross between evening and night. Some creep ominously. Others speak to the language of goodbye. Still others often are just drifting inter-dimensions of fellow human kind. We pass each other in front of revolving doors and dim-lit foyers. Usually a momentary interruption, but…[Read more]

  • I keep looking. A sort of eloquent staring inside. Rearranging pictures in my head, a puzzle made of memories; made of moments only unwound inside the imagination. I connect the words like dots and step back to assess the bigger picture. I need a distraction, I need something more substantial than this daydream.

  • Stacy L. M. commented on the post, bond 2 years, 10 months ago

    Fingers to wrists. Limbs wrapped in waist coats. Touches fumbling toward something more magnificent than the mere daily interaction. A deepwe sort of passing than traffic jams and menu item enunciations. More a moment dancing betwixt the touch of time. The intermixing of bone marrow, two voices hushed beneath the pale scattered light of a…[Read more]

  • Stacy L. M. commented on the post, oven 2 years, 10 months ago

    It’s the first thing you notice at the corner cafe. Something shiny and warm-smelling. A little piece of the at-home that Starbucks doesn’t have. It coughs forth chocolate chip macadamia, vanilla bean swirl, and a plethora of other sweet flavors. You can smell the sugar from the corner on main, it makes you crave coffee. And so you meander in…[Read more]

  • Stacy L. M. commented on the post, oven 2 years, 10 months ago

    My childhood was filled with smells wafting from the kitchen. From the bitter grit of green peppers to the sugary cinnamon of fresh-fried apple fritters. Sometimes, on the coldest of winter days, I’d read a book at the kitchen table, intermittently placing the spine face-down so I could warm my hands on the smooth surface of the oven before…[Read more]

  • Stacy L. M. commented on the post, Buddha 2 years, 10 months ago

    Crossed legs and closed eyes. I breathe into the diaphragm of my very essence. A connection between lung-space and the great void. My heart becomes a picture window. I can choose to gaze across the invisible spiritual plane into the grandiosity of the outside world. Or maybe I will simply flow inside for some as yet unmet scenery.

  • Stacy L. M. commented on the post, ballot 2 years, 10 months ago

    A place to drop decisions. Some secret scrap of paper where a name is written. Choosing sides, taking an informative stance, sweeping things beneath the proverbial rug. Something deemed honorary of society. I’ll scribble negative zero, I’ll take my chances.

  • Stacy L. M. commented on the post, moth 2 years, 10 months ago

    A moon sprinkle. A night blink among the canopy of stars. A flutter caught between the trap of time. She brushes against the wind and is gone.

  • The sun is shining. A celestial memoir of hope. An invisible smoke screen of clouds to hang across the horizon. They dance. A metaphorical day-shine. And the only reason being for waking at such an early, ungodly hour is to look North. Mornings are meant for star-mapping and daydreaming and think speaking with the pen.

  • Stacy L. M. commented on the post, rattle 2 years, 10 months ago

    The thoughts inside my head. The dishes when they are dirty. The feelings that bounce around inside like soft balls or old dogs barking because you can’t let them out. The words inside your mind that loll behind your tongue so you bite your teeth together.