Peaceful Anarchy

My Back. My Brand

Too many wars have been fought over who’s translation of which holy book makes them the chosen people.

I say, toss the books- live the similarities.

Don’t kill anyone.

Treat others as you want to be treated.

Be willing to accept the consequences of your own actions.

And above all, Cultivate common sense.

Don Miguel Ruiz made it even simpler when he penned the first of The Four Agreements, “Be impeccable with your word.”

Try that one on for size.

Imagine a world where everyone is so busy making sure they are living up to their own standards, they no longer have time to persecute those around them based on lifestyle.

My brand: Peaceful Anarchy.

Written for Sammi Cox Weekend Writing Prompt, Translation, in 115 words.



“something inside me is energy, and it was not created, so it cannot be destroyed….” from the girls by Lori Lansens

we stood in front
of my childhood closet
fighting about
the course that i was on
she was positive i would
never make it
into the kingdom of her god
and to tell you the truth
to this day,
i am ever thankful
i will not..

“i will never die!”
i remember yelling at her,
knowing full well
that my physical body
would someday expire..
but i knew then
with the clarity
of an epiphany,
that the force
that i called “i”
would never die,
but just move on..

to date,
i have received
no further revelation.
no moments of insight,
no visions in the night..
yet, each time i recall
that single apparition
of teenage clarity,
it rings with a truth
i have never found
in any god…


Photo prompt Courtesy of What Do You See?

What will my words
become to you
when I am gone?
Will they rush over you
like cleansing waters
bringing life where
there is none?
Releasing you
from the burden
I have become
when nothing more
can be done?

Or will they burn, hot
like iron pokers?
Branding you,
covering you in
a thick layer
of black soot.
My sack cloth
my ashes-
all that is left
of the faceless child
you never allowed yourself
to get to know.

Inspired by the photo prompt provided by Helene’s What Do You See? And the word: Release, provided by Denise on Six Sentence Stories.


you will
never know
the scent of
baby powder
transports me back
to the first moment
i held you in my arms


in an instant
i am once again
breathing in the scent
of the waxy white vernix
that protected
your fragile foetal flesh
from the waters
of my womb..

and reminded,
that you should never
have had to protect
yourself like that
from me

Posted for Chelsea Ann Owens’ Terrible Poetry Contest. This week we could the subject was open, so I found this rather absurd subject in my …why paisley?? archives and decided to go with it.


He was a mountain of a man, storming around the room, blood lust in his eyes, retaliation in his gait, “Where is it you stupid bitch- you know you stole my dope- where is it??”


“Would you stop thinking about what you are going to do to me, and start thinking about where you put it?” she could think of nothing else to say.

What if he had beat her to death before he remembered he hid it in the tissue box holder that was built into the bathroom wall?

But he hadn’t, he had found it- and she lived to steal his dope another day.

Posted for Girlie on the Edge’s Blog Six Sentence Story, prompt: Mountain.