13 August, 2017

Home Place

Home Place

Washed over with the sun in the east,
the sleep in my eyes,
the cats meow,
early riser

Fragrant cup with a white swirl
passes my smile, and tongue
slowly runs down,
a child on a slide

Advanced age, and health
drowns me in pills,
eggs, bacon, juice

Gray pajamas, color of skin
shuffle through wee hours,
puzzle, pen, white out
favorite wicker chair

My home place, my first place to go.

© right now, Denise A White  

11 August, 2017



Lay hands on djembe's head,
palm beat and finger taps
sing the song of the land

Hands listen with the driving pulse
as their blood is pumped
taken on the journey with the drum

The circle of drummers widens,
voices join the song,
hands beat out the tale

The women are the pulse of the earth.

09 August, 2017


My eyes-
my ears-
heard my voice
in the night

He reached-
he held-
precipitous stillness
from me

My ears saw,
my eyes heard,
in the darkness
no hand seen

I yelled-
I struggled-
no waking
from this ghoulish sleep

Light came on
me, on the phone
screamed out-

Created a silhouette in the night.

05 August, 2017

Deep Ocean

Deep Ocean

Look down, the ocean below
vertigo raises its spin
shades of blue, crashes white

Coloration of turbulence
formation of cliffs,
sirens call by rocky cove

Tide, rising over sculpted crags,
Skulls of years
remind us of long passed, not, my past

Teetering on the edge of imminent death
pulled back
not today's solution

Left to wander through the far reaches of ragged details.

29 July, 2017

Circles Parted

Lives met in a Venn diagram,
intersected with commonage,
color them plum red

Outside the intersection
traits mattered more,
color them midnight black

Sexuality in plum red,
family, careers,

Behavior patterns in midnight black,
endeavors, formalities,

Midnight black trumped plum red at the end.


silent observations,
fills my uncluttered space.

to a voice in the wind,
focused on the correct words.

My muse reveals-

on the blank page,
remind me of a sculpture hidden in marble.

I write.

© right now, Denise A White    writing poems • silence poems • spiritual poems

12 July, 2017

Summer's Day Gone Badly

As the blistering sun
painted you a deepening pink
my eyes tasted your deliciousness 
I listen to the waves crashing ever closer

I called out to you but 
a quivering in my voice took over
and I watched as the salt licked at your
slightly clothed beet reddened skin

The tide embraced you
as an provoked lover, not thinking 
your delicate pinken skin, will sting
like a scorpion when being stepped on, bare feet

You would wake as the undertow dragged you in.

09 July, 2017

On The Edge

Dressed in sunshine
they floated
across an ocean
of bluebells.

Fragrance of salt air
passed by,
tickled their fancy,
as if a bee
brushed a flower

Onward to the horizon
met by the clouds,
they rolled over them,
shrouded their craft-

Floated through to the other side

19 June, 2017


Walk across the blue sky
in your drape of whiteness
not like a wind shifted cloud,
but steady as a rock in a stream

Satellite of earth, your view
is a plethora of color, that streams
through the atmosphere, stratosphere,
more, freely feeds your darkened eyes

Rays of eyes view your features
millenniums of prying sent as flybys,
only in one era then another stomped on,
violated your skin, took a piece

Punctured your elegance you still reflect
light rays and give of yourself, 
so eons of your mystery are just points 
of reference in an astronomy book

When we gaze, now, we see the man.

15 June, 2017



Monoliths stand 
apart on a barren landscape,
harden, weathered
enduring a long sentence

Desert is dry,
the environment of your home
that views 
landscape from a safe distance 

Hidden storyline
on ochre painted walls 
within your crevices
penetrated by her eyes

Violated, exposed
you tightly hold on to her
silent pleads
never leave me anymore

Always is such a perpetuity.

07 June, 2017


veiled behind a long
beaded screen of family,
only child capable,
to them

abounds like seashells 
dropped by screaming gulls
smashed in the fall

like the ocean,
rise up with the tide
leave life behind
tear veil open-

You tell your story, set free

01 June, 2017

Skin Hot

Walking, 6am,
dog keeps me company
sun continues to rise
temperature climbs,
amazed to have a wide brimmed hat
skin burns red hot

searching for a drink,
water obtained for parched tongue
step by step, know no limits
advance from home,
now circling back
parched as-

The catus I pass, in red hot skin.

29 May, 2017

Red, Red Rose

We walk,
barely talk,
finger tip to finger tip
brush unknowingly,
like two strangers 
that just met.

We liked
one another, 
once, when we walked
hand in hand on a beach, 
far away now, we grew
on the vine.

We were tangents,
to our circle, we bended 
to the dedication of marriage, 
now we have grown

The red rose is now thorny and white.

The Path

Walk beside me in the sand,
leave your footprint like
the ocean leaves agates,
unpolished, valuable

Embrace the silent roar,
waves crash
minds' lonliness replaced
its rhythm beats

Your agate is not mine,
your path is not my
journey, even though we
walk, we walk alone

The blank space is filled.

28 May, 2017

Content At Last

Gray chair wraped its arms
embracd my cold,
put me asleep 
even when abandoned

Diminutive, abounding in riches
surrounded by abundance,
waiting on the hour
when she'll come home

Spring is in the breeze, 
it's now the hour of contentment,
the key turns the lock
awakening blows in

Transcends all

25 May, 2017



Wind bears down 
swiping at its path
metal, wood, glass
not immune from its tail

Expansion on its amplitude occurs,
widens its pea green, angry path

Should the horn that warns
the last sound heard, or
should the wind sound 
its train roar

Sun comes out and smiles,
an ironic smile.

19 May, 2017

Wind Sways

Red maple swings in the yard
and azaleas bow,
the finch sways to the music
while grasses rustle.

Sun beats the drum
on the skin,
the clouds move in a wave
while the ocean rolls in.

Astonishing moment.

18 May, 2017



Spent time
like a rubber mallet
bounces off the clock
absent are broken parts
surrounded my every being
work, laugh, play, every hour
filled with joy

Four months of joy.



Falling freely
into outstretched arms
grasp is absent, idle hours
to depart from sight

Heavy is the breath
like a crush in the chest

Black darkness
fills me with regret
fall into a life of silent

Too soon gone from my life.

Copyright Denise A White

02 May, 2017

Hot Sauce

Fourteen hundred square feet,
fitting in and cramped for space
finding shelves large, inconvenient;
back feels like hot sauce on your tongue.

Bending, twisting, kneeling now,
cleaning, spacious a word unknown.

Pounding, fixing, removing old window coverings,
atrocious light fixtures, replacing, donating to cause,
breaking down boxes, gathering quantities of packing papers,
moving boxes, large and small and extra large, barely fit through doors.

Back is melting like hot sauce on the tongue,
but a workable home is the final goal in weeks

Ten hours a day, and porch roof has a leak, too
escaping water daily as the weather has its way,
tall, lanky man on roof, guaranteed to stop the water,
everyday he hunts for the spot, every night it pours its way in

To finish, back will be permanent hot sauce.

23 April, 2017

Unbridled Silence

Wet rivulets beat against 
house and heart-
silence breaks 
in two

Weather erratic and fickle
hard beat on windows-
hard beat on chest

Lit up now by a sun-drenched
sky of partial clouds-
deaf to my ears
useless for my heart

Day is ear-punching 
silence untamed-
one minute it rains
one it is sunny

The day moves rapidly in my unbridled brain.

13 April, 2017



Cold rain, pure as the pine tree smell in the air,
rushed through strands of red hair,
ran down a tear streaked face

North wind gales, hit like a slap
turning the face South
to the stabs of pain.

Weather wrapped its tight hold 
around an indifferent, motionless,
body of shivers

As a large hand tried to grab on.

Copyright Denise A White 

08 April, 2017


Dreams, wandering
from one life to the next,
rules don't apply
imagination is a powerful tool.

Reliving them on paper
the words applied seem already
there to be revealed,
as we walk in the clouds of our minds.

Creation of a new world 
the goal of the cloud walker,
where the new order
is the way of the walk through life.

Quietly wake to the eye of the holder of images.

Copyright Denise A White
Cloud Walker by Denise A White 

05 April, 2017

You Dear

Like fools gold sparkles 
in the sunset
reflecting the promise-

Riches in all ways,
now a
pocket of empty rock-

Turned for the kiss,
left cold,
through a pierced hole in the heart-

Cried out for you dear

02 April, 2017

The Foundation

Spring is the undergarment 
of seasonal changes.
Buds are waiting
to dress the
naked tree.
Green brush strokes color
thatched landscapes.
The crocus 
begins to

Earth is waking to a gaggle
of summer color.

Copyright Denise A White

26 March, 2017

Third Space

Head space in the third place,
does cartwheels of profound work,
races with time given by
parameters of societies norms.

A mountain climb is to think, to write, to be.

Adirondacks, hold that space
waiting for my mind to catch up with my feet.
Pen to paper, reveals hidden words
as the wind rushes by whistling, you've come home.

The opening to the sky and earth below inspires my thoughts to paper.

Alone now on this bald rocky ledge
dangling feet, moving to
the beat, of the rhythm, of the words togetherness
like a favorite song moves through time.

Head space, within the third place, has its work to do before the rains come.

Copyright Denise A White 

24 March, 2017

Seasons Observations

Wet and cold fell 
from the gray spring sky,
as winter wept it's last goodbye.

The ducks came out to play.

In the vast landscape 
of shades of dingy white sheets,
the crested, red-breasted merganser
punched a bright colored hole 

His pregnant mate swam near him.

Leaving a trail like a v, 
the coot headed toward the pair
and the beautiful goose honked its way home.

My eyes slowly closed as I saw with my ears what my eyes had beheld.

Copyright Denise A White

23 March, 2017

The Ice Went Out Today

Twilight ascends bringing on 
bright rays that reflect
ice crystals into the
eyes of the geese-

that come swooping in with
the seasons change,
marking the 

Putting on breaks like an
airliner on a runway, 
geese land on a 
field of ice-

still floating between
currents, rippling 
the surface of 
open water.

Never mind the open lake waters
it is more fun to walk on ice,
flapping wings to
the tune of the

grabbing the branchlet 
with cold feet, as the
lake hums

The ice went out today.

Copyright Denise A White