Saturday, December 20, 2014

Past Promises

Hand einer Seniorin

Wikimedia Commons

on the verge
i saw it
still in the calm
between us

it was fleeting
moving past me
as i blinked
my lashes

without fully realizing it
opening my eyes
the tension of us
it sat
in small letters
that only
i could hear

reach out your hand
i was here all along

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2014

Happy Holidays to all! May you all find the peace you seek.

Posted for D'verse

Friday, December 5, 2014



they shift, each in its own rhythm

the lace of the living,

 enfolding the sleeping

in brittle arms,

speaking in whispers 

of tomorrow's 

sated sorrows.

I close my eyes,

speak their words

to the fallen beneath me.

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2014

Posted for Poetry Pantry

Saturday, November 29, 2014

NaNo NaNo, I'm Nuked

i find my thoughts strained
like puree
maybe strawberry i think

i think idly that would taste good
delish in fact
better than tomato

but its only because i haven't had any in a while

the nano is done
i submitted at 50148 words
but the story
well that might take a while yet

but the brain needs some rewiring
right about now
so short me
or slide me a new one

silver platter is over there
just ready

stop short of the fingers please
they are on auto pilot.

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2014

Hi everyone. NaNoWriMo is done and I finished! The event, not the novel. I think I am about 2/3 there. I am taking some time to read and write some poetry before I go back to it!

Posted for Poets United

Tuesday, November 11, 2014

My Absence

Hello all. If you are wondering where I am thins month. I am doing Nanowrimo. Determined to get through!

See you soon.


Tuesday, October 14, 2014

A Soprano Practices

the morguefile

Notes will follow.

air speed,
narrow through passagio,
bite into tone.

Go for headier,
core in the sound,
legato, LeGato, LEGATO.
Italian, french, german,
translate text.

Find the high B flat.

So exposed,

dig down deep in the body,

go, you can do this.


Too wide.

Try again,
and again,
and again.

I sing and teach classical music. I am a big lyric Soprano--bordering on spinto--this is what practicing is like for me--about an hour and a half a day, most every day--

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2014.  Posted for dVerse.

Thursday, October 9, 2014

Finding Home

wikimedia commons
John Higson
Point of Ayre
March of memorials swimming in movement, Oakland, CA

i wonder sometimes
when i see fish fly past 
on thermal currents,
blue on green,

if i could find my way home
the way they seem to,
always headed
back to the water
as though
it called to them
in some secret language 
that only they understand.

i seem to lack 
the instinct
to find my way home
unless i write
and even then
i arrive home
by happenstance,

turning down
roads unexpected,
down gutters
with the rain
watching sticks 
float by
if all sticks make their way
or just a chosen few.

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2014

Sunday, September 28, 2014

The Departing

wikimedia commons
Frank Vincentz
Umspannhaus in Engelsburg, Remscheid-Lennep

we hide ourselves in the collective
 the unconscious
past my photographed images
of what life could have been

had i waited 

to hold your face to the sun

but you tendered that which must be
 to the sun
before I could stop you 

moistening the lips
of the lilies 


forgetting my lust at your lapping 

and my tears when you left.

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2014

Inspired by The Secret Life of Bees: Thank you Susie

“It was the oldest sound there was. Souls flying away.”

Posted for for Real Toads

Friday, September 26, 2014

The Catfish Eye

wikimedia commons
Satsuuma, Louisiana Pastel

she walks with gnarled toes
feeling eels slither
through mud
made of fog.

there, a tiny fraction, 
light's division,
vibrating prisms 
on water's edge, she pauses,

the catfish eye
seeking hers 
its tale of sorrow
bouyant in the sand.

fingers reach
stroking whiskers, she reads
its colors in the water

change is here
it says
as the light shifts
and her toes grow roots.

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2014 posted for Real Toads and dVerse OLN

Tuesday, September 23, 2014

The Colors of the Stars

Practicing Make-Believe

i  walked alone in the night
the princess of snow
my toes finding purchase
in hummus staked by the moon.

i walked alone in the night
until the stars 
crested and fell
each telling me its story
of unexplained light
as it descended

and i learned to listen
to the colors of their light
as each cried 

in its ferocity.

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2014

posted for dverse

Wednesday, September 17, 2014

A Discriminating Palate

wikimedia commons
Luis Ruiz Berti

the snails took the long way home that morning,
leaving their trail of slime behind them,
marking territory.

leaves glistened in the sun.
trails crisscrossed like so many overpasses,
an epicurean guide to the gourmet ghetto.

i would have thought basil too strong--
too pungent a stew 
for moist snail mouths,
especially when gone to seed,
white flowers dancing on stalks in the gray wind.

but snails know delight when they taste it,
and whoever said that they lack a discriminating palate.

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2014

Sunday, September 14, 2014

The Sound of Lace

wikimedia commons
girl in white lace dress
Evil Erin

words fail the ebbed tide

of emotion pulling at my feet

as the walls of you

pull me deeper.

love's footsteps

weave their way quietly.

I turned,

the lace of your dress

catching me unawares

in a double clutch.

And tears fall

marked as unexpected

in a notebook chronicling


The shiver of lace has its own sound,

one that I mark now

as love.

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2014

Posted for Poets Pantry.

My older daughter is getting married next June. We bought the dress yesterday.  I expect this will be a time of joy and deep seated feelings for me over the following months. PS. I cry at everything it seems.

Thursday, September 11, 2014


wikimedia commons


little said

little done

i fear the worst


somewhere in the middle of it

nestled against its cheek

holding thought

in abeyance

it is you

you see

terminating my sight

with your eyes

tell me again

that i will find

my way


time settled accounts the other day

dissipating its thread

in colored loops

spindled before i had a chance

to glean what might have been.


music stirs the mots

in front of me

i see them vibrate

and wonder

if this aria will find

its way home

into my body again.

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2014

A bit of free form with no editing. I am the first to say that I have no idea what all this means

Saturday, August 30, 2014

A Cage of Colors

Seated Woman with Bent Knee, 1917
Egon Schiele

I hold myself in abeyance
my stories strewn upon walls 
by fingernails too porous for contemplation,
in streams of colors from an unseen palette.

As I watch,
 the stories shift.
Patterns emerge in blues and greens
within the seams left there 
by some carpenter or other,
a master at the construction
of love's fairy tales.
They always seem to find the you
I keep locked inside,
the you I wanted to hold with me,
the you that fled
my cage of colors.

I hold myself in abeyance
my stories strewn upon walls,
upon the walls,
upon the w
upon the


copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2014

Posted for Poets United.

Saturday, August 23, 2014

The Language of Trees

wikimedia commons
Mariusz Oleszkiewicz

there is a place i go sometimes 

where the trees have woven their branches

into the length of my spine

their leaves cushioning joints

creaking with age.

and from it

i found a language we share

based on the silent wishes of the heart

unspoken for so long

that they get lost in the neural determinants of bone and sinew.

and sometimes

when i am silent long enough

i wake to find their roots

gently cradling my legs

enrapt, like lovers


copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2014

posted for Poets United 

Sunday, August 17, 2014

Sand Stories

wikimedia commons

"Mikrofossils hg" by Hannes Grobe 20:52, 12 November 2006 (UTC), Alfred Wegener Institute for Polar and Marine Research, Bremerhaven, Germany - 

sand whispers in a secret language

speaking its tales of love lost on beds of brine 

tangled in kelp webs

tended by spiders in the dark.

my toes find purchase 

in the last bits

of summer

pulling it toward me

as grubs push toward the surface seeking.

i place my ear over them

 listening to stories

i used to know in my sleep

as salt tips between us

a concave bed 

of passing.

copyright all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2014

posted for Poets United

Tuesday, August 5, 2014

I Find A Beginning

wikimedia commons
a hint of the next day
Kenny Louie, Vancouver, Canada

grasses whisper through
fog's fingers 
into solace 
at my feet,
a seed at a time,
reminding me that 
even in the end
i find a beginning.

I am at music camp out in Marin County where the grasses line the hillsides in brown.  I was walking the other day and listening to the grasses whisper in the breeze of the early evening--it is amazingly quiet out there. 

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2014

Tuesday, July 29, 2014

In case you are wondering where I am

My summer vacation is now over.  It was more of a staycation really--
and tomorrow I head out for 11 day of teaching at a music camp.  I will be back here in a couple of weeks. And as I like to say to my students--"expect new things when I return"  --it is a time of rejuvenation for me-and a period of intense work.

See ya in a few

Sunday, July 20, 2014

Time's Course

wikimedia commons
Nigerdelta, NASA

the branch of things moves silently

upon a river with no name.

i hold its ebb and flow

tightly within 

splayed fingers


spilling its heart in rivened tears

thinking that time will stand still.

each drop falls 

returning home

as it flows on

without me.

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2014

posted for Poets United

Sunday, July 6, 2014

Summer Mornings

Early Summer Morning
VSP 75th Anniversary Photo Contest Best in Show by Roderick Perkinson nsh
vastatepark staff
wikimendia commons

summer is a blanket of the softest down

settling upon morning's hours--

i bring myself to move


as coffee

wafts up the stairs

pushing its way toward me--

one more industrious than i

performing the tasks

that mark morning

move me along

toward wakefulness


the sweetness of half dreams


copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2014

Posted for Poets United Pantry

I feel the absence of my muse these days--so bear with me

Sunday, June 29, 2014

Check Engine Again

How was it that a check engine light could create so much havoc?

I saw it blink at me

undermining the moment's plans,

an unlikely metaphor really.

Check fluids,

those vital to the smooth running of things

before breakdown.

What would have happened

had I done so

on that spring morning you died

would I have felt that loss less keenly I wonder,

would I feel it less now?

your death left me fractured,

ground at the edges like so much


and once ground

those pieces never fit together again

so when that check engine light came on today

I pounded the steering wheel and cried

for both of us.

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 22014

Posted for Poet's United Poetry Pantry

Monday, June 23, 2014

A Shiver in the Morning

wikimedia commons
The Polish
Abstrakcyjna fotografia

i slowed myself down

to feel the trickle of you

beside my sleep

as five a.m. came and went

and when i mentioned my dream

your fingers floated in my hair

until i lost you again

a shiver in the morning

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2014

Thursday, June 5, 2014

Words and the Anomaly of Time, or Words Make Different Strings: Take Your Pick

wikimedia commons
Exposition toute idée est bonne à prendre


they say time heals all wounds,

but not really.

words fail to notice their spawn 

shivering alone in a pool of a lapsed moment

one targeted for the future,

date uncertain.

in those final hours,

in  moments  


of future,

it is only the pool of lapsed moments

separating the two mes.

and no words

can find her for me in the now.

it is a funny string of reality,

ties beginning to snarl in the possibilities,

each a different color.

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2014

posted for Dverse

I am reading a book about time travel--not at all sure where the piece came from other than that--

Saturday, May 31, 2014

Spring's Solace

wikimedia paintings
Hans am Ende
Maedchen auf der weise

I buried him long ago

during a spring much like this one,

on a day when shadows pierced the wind's cry.

A shore bird crossing the blue,

looking for leavings at the local McDonald's,

touching the periphery of my solitude,

the only marker of memory

worn like a chain

around my neck.

The call came through

much like they do now--

but I think

I had a princess phone then.  Tan with a retractable line.

Who expects bad news when the sun is shining?

Still, there is was,

hanging fully in the silence of her inhalation,

a tear through the fabric of my life--

one that resists patching even now.

So on days like today

I watch the butterflies against the blue

and wonder if pieces of his soul

continue on in the life around me-

in the bees that flit by me drunk on pollen

and in the leaves that grow so steadily

so rightly

from earth.

When my tears touch it,

I can almost smell him near me,

his aftershave a mix of the spice of heaven and earth.

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2014

Posted for D'verse  Open Link Night

Wednesday, May 28, 2014


wikimedia commons 
The Nut Gatherers
William-Adolphe Bouguereau

The tangled trail of tears
and laughter
marks my best
and most loving days

with you.

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2014

Posted for Poets United

Tuesday, May 27, 2014

expiration date

my heart stalled somewhere between the left and right ventricle
a trick of the moment
a heat maybe
burning the face held between my fists

i tried to pull away
to jump start the old ticker
slapping my hands
against skin
against hair whiter now than i wanted it to be
than i remembered it to be

looking for that on/off switch
before my air runs out
and the lights go off

past my prime a bit
i want to keep ripening
in this spot where trauma stops its viscous bleed
my fingers near the magic buttons
painted red and green

expiration date smudged

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2014

Not at all sure what this is about today--

Tuesday, May 20, 2014

A Poem in My Pocket

Unstoppered, I watch it flow,
The ink of desire,
 of a moment.

It flows across page,
Skittering into letters
Reminiscent of colored lights
Pulsing in the distance
Into words meant for today
Or another day,
Harpooned into shape
By the desire of a heart
Whose language speaks
Through rhythm and meter.

I crease paper
And press word upon word
An intimacy gained,
And place these unspoken words
Deep into a pocket
Next to my heart
To feed it in silence.

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2012

Sunday, May 4, 2014

Another Truth

wikimedia commons
Jon Sullivan

i find that truth is a relative thing

wending its way down some unmarked path

shadowed by flowering ambition.

it sits like a Buddha somewhere

on that road

off to one side,

tilting its eyes toward me

a wink somewhere there in the offing.

and in its belly

it holds its best offering,

an onion,

wrapped in golden skin,

which i can peel back

if i so desire

until i find its nub

somewhere guarded at the center.

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2014

posted for Poetry Pantry

Tuesday, April 29, 2014

An Ending

Light seeking

used by permission of the artist

we had the conversation across the table

as all lovers do

when things get rough.

pasta took on its sauce

formaggi adhering 

to ragged pieces 

of love left 

behind on the plate

like so much snow.

and when we were done,

i looked over at the fairy lights behind your head

and wondered what tomorrow would like like

when i woke up and realized that

cheese was the best part of today.

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2014

posted for dVerse

Wednesday, April 16, 2014

At the Barre

wikimedia commons
At The Barre
Pierre Carrier-Belleuse
(In the Public Domain in the United States)

i centered myself on the tips of toes

dancing over letters

of my keyboard 

the function keys purpling en point

i find myself each day circling over them

depressing the spaces, dipping down

into that place inside my gut

which looks for its way forward

its way out.

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2014

I am not sure why the dancing metaphor is so present for me right now, but I feel myself working through something with it. My apologies for repeating myself.

Sunday, April 13, 2014

Turning Point
Dega, Dancer 1874

turning point arrives

arms pinned

for balance

they say

spot, turn, spot, turn

momentum from that inner part of my core

the part i hope will save me

spot, turn,


until i find an answer

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2014

Change is in the air.  I looked up the word "crisis" today--that turning point at which, for better or worse, future events are determined.  I will be losing a major source of income this summer aat a time when we will be experiencing a financial contraction anyway--my husband is retiring from teaching school. So I am asking the universe for answers.

Sunday, April 6, 2014

Moon Rise

wikimedia commons 

Wing- Chi Poon, 2007

moon rises

upon the glistening lake,

an orb of time


copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2014

This is a wish really--i wish to see this out my window at night--

Posted for Poets Pantry

Friday, April 4, 2014

Hacked, Hacked and Yack the Hack

I am enraged and that doesn't happen all that often

Rage is an odd emotion

I feel like I am overflowing my boundaries

onto the pavement beneath my feet.

So this is the story.

For years, my primary email account was at Yahoo

Then sometime in January, it was hacked.

I changes my password like a good Yahoo account holder and thought I was done

Not on your life

Four, count them, four hacks later,

I closed my account

Lost all my poetry notifications

Lost all my emails from and to students

(My livelihood)

I am slowly finding you all again.

Leave a comment so I can trail back to your site--

And bear with me a bit


Friday, March 21, 2014

An Abundance of Absurdities
Hieronymus Bosch
The Concert in the Egg

we make do with what we find

chipping away to gain purchase

ethereal laughter always taking root

from the inside first

tending to flocks

adorned in their own absurdities

their song 

one on my own making

imprinted before the first crack was sighted

i lead only because i cannot follow

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2014

Monday, March 17, 2014

John William Waterhouse, Miraanda

the sea claims its own

incessantly murmuring

opening dreaming doors

bent upon hinges

that have felt the salt's long lick

while we all wait along its shore

hug it ravenously

as time stills itself

in hope of return

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2014

Wednesday, March 12, 2014

A Fork in the Road

Irises, Van Gogh

she read my cards once
when i was a tall willowy blond of 20

and told me that two roads were open to me

one based on my looks

and one not

and that each held its consequences


happiness was to be found

only on one of these.

choices are good.

i only look back sometimes

to recall that fork in my path.

i took the one less trod upon

i'll leave you to guess which.

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2014 

At Poets United we are looking prescience. Come join us.

Saturday, March 8, 2014

The uncertainty of tears
Katsushika Hokusai
Cargo ship and wave 1805

Waves swollen like tears upon leaves

burst each one

upon spiked lashes of 


a universe pulled into a black hole of certitude

its retreat pungent 

upon my cheek

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2014

Sunday, March 2, 2014

In Search of Expression
Gustave Courbet, 1841
Portrait of Juliette Courbet as a  Sleeping Child

Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.

Robert Frost

Dreams flit around the periphery of consciousness
finding their home
in pockets of reverie
before sleep leaves the sleeper

and in those fragile moments in which sleeper remains so bound

emotion fingers the soft tendrils of thought

its search for expression

a lingering bit of fog

in which we find our best, and most deep

sense of ourselves on paper.

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2014

Thank you to those who thrive in the Garden

Friday, February 28, 2014

Somewhere Green

wikimedia commons
 Daniel Valcarce, VUELO NOCTURNO (NIGHT FLIGHT) oil on canvas, from the series FIRST DREAMS, 1998

i stopped somewhere green

unmarked in my mind's eye.

a stone blocking my way

told tales belonging to another

of birth and death

so young.

a lamb covered the stone

draped in body

holding soul

to ground

until mother could retrieve

it on her way 

to somewhere green

unmarked in her mind's eye.

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2014

posted for Poets United