Los Angeles – a poem

Los Angeles City of Angels Angels ain’t protecting me honey guns do that or mace or a swift kick to the balls Balls which rape and pillage and burn and steal and kill Why’d ya let them kill, angels? You protected Jacob and Joseph. Please protect me angel:...

The beauty of accent walls

I’ve never been a fan of four white walls. I know it stems from some deep psychological issue from my childhood; however, I find four white walls boring. Thus, I am a big fan of the accent wall. Designers fall into two opposing camps as far as accent walls are...

The little scrabble man hates me

I’m a Scrabble addict. Growing up, I would literally beg people to play with me… now, with the advent of Facebook Scrabble I have more games than I can handle. And I have a small square faced cartoon at the bottom of my screen, who judges me. Relentlessly....

The Artist’s Sonnet

The artist cannot see beyond her sphere of reds and rusts which bleed from life’s pained heart. The colors scream their silent song of fear pretending nothing hurs; life ala carte.   I  paint within the limits of my life; a smorgasbord of unappealing hues....