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 Est. 1998




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Terri Guillemets
Archives — 2015




This is the archive of my publicly published writing from 2015 — the good, the bad, the active and the retired. It includes content written as filler for The Quote Garden as well as my personal journals and writings. —tg, 2023







You can't get overwhelmed by the thought of all the weeds if there are flowers in your soul.


      DATE:  2015 Jan 18







Life winks as it passes me by
and is gone before my own blink of eye.


      DATE:  2015 Feb 6







Heart & me—
Fragile
and strong
Broken
and whole
Loving,
and loving.


      DATE:  2015 Feb 6







the years sprint, sail, drift, fly —
days melt into sleep
decades we no longer know
by taste or smell, yes
but hard fast memories tend not to keep —
youth lives on — yet, is long gone
birds chirp each spring anew
but our hearts sing the same shades
of childhood colors we once knew


      TITLE:  Iridescent
      DATE:  2015 Feb 10







It's easy to get lost when the map is in your hand and not in your heart.


      TITLE:  Kicking up dust on my own path
      DATE:  2015 Feb 17







Beer lays a comforting veil of mirth between reality and me.


      TITLE:  Cheers!
      DATE:  2015 Feb 19







modern stress —
      toxic evil

toxic stress —
      modern evil


      DATE:  2015 Mar 13







Journal. Kinda like a blog, but on this thing called paper.


      TITLE:  Audience of one
      DATE:  2015 May 16







If scary things scare you
And you're just scared
      that happy things
      will get taken away
And if a life of fear
      is all you know
      it's under your skin
      and in your bones
Then you look away
      for a kiss, for love,
      for momentary glory
And the fear melts away
      or is forgotten —
When it rushes back
      or creeps in again,
How much life have
      you lost, or gained?


      TITLE:  Magnificent beauty ebbs the flow of time and fear is a dirty thief
      DATE:  2015 May 26
      NOTES:  revised







you can shout it to every star
bare your soul up to the moon
cast your problems nightly afar —
but they always flood back by noon


      DATE:  2015 Jun 5







At the window —
Watching raindrops glide off the leaves
They're
Sweat dripping off your brow
As you make love to me in the thunder
A bird plays in the puddle under the tree
Its skinny legs dipping in life
Beak happy, wings at the ready — being
Just being
Our love, present, moment
Now
Always
Don't think
Flow off the leaves
Slide
Land gracefully in the puddle of life
Ride the ripple
Love
Always love.


      TITLE:  At the window watching raindrops
      SOURCE:  freewriting typewriter poem
      DATE:  2015 Jun 5







I got up one day, young—
made a quick sandwich
threw back a cold beer—
then BAM! — I was old
                   just like that.


      TITLE:  Not so subtle, all too true
      DATE:  2015 Jun 16
      NOTES:  revised







Thank you for believing in me still —
after all these give-ups
and half-days trying
the days half-trying —
your strength flies over my weakness
my strength aspires to you —
I spot you all the time
knowing you're spotting me.

Looking close is fine and good
once in a while
but flight is beauty —
your waving wings
and gliding, soaring courage
green leaves & faith your backdrop
blue sky your home.

You never stay too long
but are always there
when I need you —
to remind me of beauty
and make all my poetry prayer.

I don't know if the air is sweet
for you, or hard —
for me the ground is both —
but you're still here
even though you're there
and I thank you.


      TITLE:  White butterfly
      DATE:  2015 Jul 1







Mornings smell and taste
like fresh, raw life;
Night reeks of dreams.
Afternoons are scentless,
save for tea & 3pm regret.


      TITLE:  Afternoon
      SOURCE:  freewriting typewriter poem
      DATE:  2015 Jul 6







You've got to keep moving to keep the beauty of life in perspective. If you hold still too long, things go blurry.


      DATE:  2015 Jul 13







The wordsmith cuts saws for a living.


      DATE:  2015 Aug 25







Fall, temperatures, fall, fall! Let the weather mellow and the year drift into peacefulness.


      TITLE:  We will get there
      DATE:  2015 Sep 1







...autumn winds shaking color from the trees...


      DATE:  2015 Oct 16







the body is a clock —
bones tick and tock
years gather in flesh
an alarm set for death


      TITLE:  Forty-two-tick-tock
      DATE:  2015 Oct 16
      NOTES:  revised







Autumn breathes in golden sunshine and breathes out a frosty chill.


      DATE:  2015 Oct 17







Any real writer — or reader — has had a papercut on the forehead at least once.


      TITLE:  A life with papers
      DATE:  2015 Oct 17







Poetry allows
my soul to age gracefully
my mind to land softly
amongst the new gray hairs —
without it I’d have thunked
into my forties with
tail bone, funny bone
and spirit broken


      TITLE:  Only bruises
      DATE:  2015 Oct 19







October sun — soul-stirring
October air — wood-burning
October quiet — ease-giving
October birds — poet-calling
October trees — edge-trembling
October light — serene-slanting
October colors — eye-calming
October leaves —art-sparking


      TITLE:  October's porch
      DATE:  2015 Oct 22







G-rated, stripped down, politically correct fuzzwords and threadbare phrases rarely reflect real life.


      TITLE:  I am fat, not weight-challenged
      DATE:  2015 Oct 29







I've heard that having gout toe-tally sucks!


      DATE:  2015 Nov 7







The quiet of October is refreshing
The quiet of November, oppressing


      TITLE:  How suddenly it turns
      DATE:  2015 Nov 13







Poetry blazons sexy words
with lusty, charming rhymes—
Prose is a sensible lover
who's always done at the stop.


      DATE:  2015 Dec 26







Even happiness worries sometimes.


      DATE:  2015 Dec 27







I've found a comfortable spot in life,
And I want to stay here.
Hopefully that doesn't hasten my demise.


      SOURCE:  journal
      DATE:  2015 Dec 28
      AGE:  forty-two







Winter is the slow-down
Winter is the search for self
Winter gives the silence we need to listen
Winter goes gray so we can see our own colors


      DATE:  2015 Dec 29










Terri Guillemets
Archives — 2015






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