Monsters


When I was just a little girl,
I feared monsters ‘neath my bed.

As a teen, they tormented me,
When they moved into my head.

When I was a fair young maiden,
They were those I might have wed.

But as I grew into full bloom,
They soon feared my wrath, instead.

Older, I search the day’s headlines,
Clipping stories that I’ve read.

“Gray Hairs Found Near Mangled Corpses!”
“Each missing both heart and head!”

Monsters no longer frighten me,
Night’s not something that I dread.

Monsters protect me when I sleep
With their parts stowed ‘neath my bed.

Hello, Dolly

Can you feel it, too?

Even in the south, in the sweltering heat, we can feel the shift about mid-August. It’s barely perceptible, but it’s there. It’s the sense that summer is giving way to the fall and soon darkness will have its way with the light. From light to dim to dark.

Also, the rhythm of our lives changes just a bit, doesn’t it? Thoughts of beaches and bathing suits turn to fall leaves and sweaters – from cold drinks to hot apple cider.

It’s instinctual, I think. At least, it has always been that way for me and mine. I can only presume that you, too, sense the veil thinning. The veil between this world and the other side.

Each day as we drifted closer to the fall equinox, the balance of light tipped in favor of the night. At the same time, the barrier between the worlds grew ever slimmer. It continues to do so right up until All Hallows Eve. Some believe that passing between the veil only happens on October 31st. That’s not true, though. That’s just when the weakest can pass unhindered. Stronger spirits and entities can pass much sooner. Perhaps that’s why our minds turns to darker things, spooky things, creepy things. Maybe we can sense them among us. Could it be that we hear their whispers in our ears?

I only ask, because this strange little poem came to me from nowhere. I do believe Halloween is upon us, friends.

I love my little dolly, sweet;
She’s my best and only friend.
I bring her other kids to meet
But, they don’t come back again.

I suppose they just don’t like me,
Though, I can’t imagine why.
We’re both as sweet as we can be,
‘Cept when someone makes me cry.

My dolly doesn’t like me sad;
That is when she’s not so nice,
Bad things happen when she is mad,
So, it’s best that you think twice.

OMG!

Synchronicity would be the word to best describe this past month.

It started when I posted a poem I’d written years ago – God & Goddess – on my twitter feed. Another poet who goes by the handle of @fuckingpoetry generously did an audio recording of that poem in his awesome, sexy Australian accent.

Seriously, go check out his mostly NSFW writings and audio recordings at fuckingpoetry.com. I recommend that you are seated when listening lest your knees get weak!

Then I stumbled on another writer with the twitter handle of @TheZeusJuice who has this whole shtick about being Zeus in the modern world. A bit of playful banter later and suddenly he, two dozen other amazing writers and I have a website AllInThePantheon.com where we are now blogging about the trials and tribulations of being Gods, Goddesses, and Muses trying to assimilate with humans by taking on day jobs.

So in the short span of a month, I’ve gone from your average sexy scribbler to a Goddess Blogger for the Pantheon.
You can check out my storyline by starting with my bio here: The Goddess Moxie.

Oh? You didn’t know that there was a Goddess named Moxie? Well, now you do! Following along as I spill the beans on the wild, weird, and wacky deities of Mount Olympus as the head of the Pantheon’s PR Firm. Here are a couple of updates to get you started:

If you enjoy my writings, I’d be honored if you’d buy me a coffee or became a patron! Thanks so much for your support!

Wayward Words

Image by Alejandro Tuzzi from Pixabay

Let us paint the world
With our wayward words
From fingertips and tongue.

Letters mixed and swirled
Trilled by mockingbirds –
Poet, not poem, unsung.
~~*~~
Written for World Poetry Day 2019, this little verse gave me a reason to switch hats from novelist to poet. And now, I’m switching once again from poet to blogger. I know. I know. I’ve been lax in updating this blog.

Mea culpa.

However, that doesn’t mean I haven’t been busy with writing projects. Because I have!

Thanks to my small but fierce team of beta readers, I’m 80% done with rewrites, edits, and whatnots of The Call. The plan is to have the entire manuscript polished by the end of the month. Incidentally, The Call was a finalist in the Sexy Scribblers contest and a partial manuscript (the first 14 chapters) is being read by an Editor at Carina Press who promises feedback. If liked, they may select it for publication, too. Fingers crossed.

Now it’s time to put on my laundress headwear before I get back into novelist-mode. I’ll save you the suspense and let you know that tomorrow’s attire includes both housekeeper and novelist. A writer’s life is so sexy ain’t it?