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 Feb 2017
John F McCullagh
Norma McCorvey has died today
In assisted living in a Texas town.
She was Jane Roe in Seventy Three
when the court struck all restrictions down.
She was used by lawyers for their cause
Used by men and women both.
Once a Lesbian then a Christian
Her fame the thing she hated most.
The times have changed and many have died
Because of what that court decided.
Her child still lives; she was adopted.
Its Sad how we have become hard hearted;
Divided we are, now as then.
We never met, nor were we friends;
Goodbye Norma (Jane) McCorvey
May you rest in Peace at journey’s end.
Norma McCorvey a/k/a Jane Roe had died today. She was the plaintiff in the landmark supreme court case "Roe vs Wade"
 Jan 2017
The Dedpoet
Notes, musical keys, rythmic changes-
A modification of the Word
Which purifies her soulfulness
And expresses clarities in the fog,
The hint of Dickinson in her words,
The scent of reality in her reflection,
     The words become a path:

One wet summer I heard your words,
The vibrant sky breaths
And the sun became as embers
Of poetic sacrifice,
Through reading your poem
I became as a double being,
Movement began
A sudden dispersion of birds
Followed by the Humm of water
On stone,
Murmurs of infinite moments
Painting them all like some
Poet Saint,
The words became a lineage
To the unfathomable depths of you,
In the helix of hours
The beat of the sea and the stilled
Shimmers of light on water can be found
In the edification of her poetry;

Master strokes,
Like a naked liberation
Of a diamond body beyond
A turquoise sunset,
A co concubine of words
That form constellated meanings
Among the pnumbra,
Reminiscent of the March of hours
In which the words come
And a fixed glitter in her eyes form,
The form of woman,
A form of dizziness
Like a dance of wind and water,
I read between the words,

    Vicki,
         Vicki,

I imagine a lamp in the middle
Of the night,
A pen and a womans scorching
Words as God had spoken
The First Word,
Like a moon in heat in midday's
Grasp, she counters every word
Of expression
Like a cell for my tortured soul,
She became my solitary star,
I wander in her hours,
Hungry for more words,
A memory inventing itself,
Masterfully,
She makes the sky walk the land.
For my infinitely talented friend Vicki.
 Jul 2016
Emily B
they fly in
and sit on my shoulder
even when
i don't want them to

old Bob's ex-wife
had his sofa covered
in some horribly ugly
historic print

(i thought it was
kinda pretty)

i saw a haversack
made out of that
self-same fabric
in my possession

today, Bob handed me
a leather bag
he had sewed with
that fabric as the lining

i hope i smiled

because the other vision
was of his family
clearing his possessions
out of his cabin
after he passed

i'm afraid it isn't
long now
 Dec 2014
wordvango
Do not stand at my grave and weep
by Mary Elizabeth Frye

Do not stand at my grave and weep:
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft starshine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry:
I am not there; I did not die.

— The End —