Thursday, December 17, 1992

Reverie art

Look! over yonder
what a beautiful
field of wildpoems

—Terri Guillemets

Saturday, December 12, 1992

Sparse

The desert is quiet,
and it's listening.—
It's thirsty, and
waits patiently.—
A cactus grows
one hundred years
& spares no water.

—Terri Guillemets

Wednesday, December 2, 1992

Thursday, October 1, 1992

A lonely pen at night

Your prayer can be poetry, and poetry can be your prayer.

—Terri Guillemets

Wednesday, September 23, 1992

Friday, February 28, 1992

Unsocial butterfly

Yep, I'm an INFJ — an antisocial butterfly and the most hugging, loving people-hater you'll ever meet.

—Terri Guillemets

Wednesday, February 19, 1992

Sunday, February 16, 1992

Overboard poet

Poetry tosses my pen across
the vast tumbling seas of self,
intermittent sunshine glistening
off the spilt ink,—
storms breaking ideas & words
that sink then emerge
and sink again.

—Terri Guillemets

Thursday, February 6, 1992

Brake, pedal

Sometimes you just gotta roll with the changes, or get run over by the future.

—Terri Guillemets

[A few years later, stumbled upon this: “Neither a wise man nor a brave man lies down on the tracks of history to wait for the train of the future to run over him.” —Dwight D. Eisenhower]

Monday, January 27, 1992

Picard & symbolism

Star Trek fans usually know the metaphors of life better than most mainstream poets.

—Terri Guillemets

Saturday, January 18, 1992

Morning out

Coffee smells like freshly ground heaven.

—Terri Guillemets

Sunday, January 12, 1992

Understanding

The understanding of my life
Costs a dollar ninety-nine
But all I've got to spend
Is a pocketful of pesos.

—Terri Guillemets