On the Way to Nowhere

Aimless so it goes

Winding up the path to nowhere

With trips and tricks on the way

But no regret I feel instead

Aliveness in my step

I know this way, I’ve passed before

So ever aimless I will remain

With eyes wide and soul set free.

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You maker, you shaper, you mover of things

I hear all your voices

whispering to trees, telling lies to the hills

 hollering down valleys and screeching your name

you tickle the funny bone of my barn

and rattle this house

poking and punching like a 9-year old boy

you’re constant, forever, but nowhere to be seen

hands-free sculptor of fame

go on, go on screeching your name

                                         – Kristi

Speaking of Wrong and Right

Speaking of Wrong and Right

Voice pushing to be free

Speak out out out speak speak out


Tongue cut out and gagged on blood

Spit out out out spit spit out

Stomach burnt and twisted

Mind follows suit

Beaten and punched down

Heart still beats, still pounds

Brain still dreams and knows

The difference between wrong and right

Restitch the tongue


Heart beats beats beats heart heart beats

Orvieto Face


Spritely spirits speaking in whispers

Tiptoe by below my open bedroom window

I hear the laughter in their footsteps

And long to join them bathing in the moonlight

Skipping across the yard

They stop to say good evening to the three ladies in the cottage

Then continue on into the veiled night


The painting above is Midsummer Eve (1908) by Edward Robert Hughes. It was a source of inspiration for my poem “Visitors”.