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Terri Guillemets
Archives — 2016




This is the archive of my publicly published writing from 2016 — the good, the bad, the active and the retired.  It includes content written for The Quote Garden as well as personal journals and writings.  Some entries were originally untitled with a title added later, and some were first published under other pen names.  —tg, 2023

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Death is never a clean break — some stardust always remains.


      TITLE:  Early morning goodbyes
      DATE:  2016 Apr 28







I do love my friends who wouldn't dare judge me — but we all need to be judged, sometimes.


      TITLE:  Dissent
      DATE:  2016 Jan 31







green-veined leaves suddenly blushing copper
bronze-edged trees swaying in autumn breezes
gold foliage drifting past pewter branches baring all
brass-hued leaflets dying in beauty, falling in grace


      TITLE:  In the autumn wood
      DATE:  2016 Aug 8







Insomnia is invisible
but hard as concrete.


      TITLE:  Can't freakin' sleep
      SOURCE:  found poetry
      BOOK:  Chuck Palahniuk, Fight Club, 1996
      DATE:  2016 Mar 3







Light understands the colors of Autumn, and she loves him for it.


      TITLE:  The falling is mutual
      DATE:  2016 Aug 8







You can't count the bad things that happen. They don't count against life. They are life. Only count the good things. Let every blessing strengthen you.


      DATE:  2016 Dec 29







Grief is looking up
to see Never
at your window
rapping on the pane
of your heart.


      TITLE:  Fragile
      DATE:  2016 Jan 16







It’s peeking round the corner
Playing hide and seek
I see its icy fingers
A frost’d rosy cheek

Days fall ever shorter
Autumn’s air is chilling
Warmth no longer lingers
Wild things are stilling


      TITLE:  Anticipation
      DATE:  2016 Nov 20
      NOTES:  revised







poets swing too high
until the chain kinks
and snaps mid-air
      the
            fall
                  is
                      poetry


      TITLE:  Midair
      DATE:  2016 Mar 13







this winter afternoon
i stare between bare
branches of gray trees

in the distance i see
an unreturnable past
or a dwindling future

i can't tell which but
the silence is sublime


      TITLE:  Branching
      DATE:  2016 Jan 7
      NOTES:  revised







Grief cries and life shines on — and hope paints a rainbow.


      DATE:  2016 Sep 22







nose in books, head in clouds


      DATE:  2016 Apr 7
      NOTES:  social media profiles







Do not watch too closely
cogs in the wheel of time.
Observe their passing as
the rhythm of a poem —
not clicks of the abacus.


      DATE:  2016 Feb 11







Worry whomps and wails on weary souls.


      DATE:  2016 Jan 12







when winter gets deep
into languishing hearts
poetry promises spring


      DATE:  2016 Jan 10







one by one the trees they fall
and before you know it, the forest


      TITLE:  Hae
      DATE:  2016 Feb 25







Loss — the great redefiner of life.


      DATE:  2016 Sep 23







Tea time — a brief recess from dodging life's blowdarts.


      DATE:  2016 Oct 3







Wrinkles don't hurt as much when one remembers the playground in one's heart.


      TITLE:  Afterthoughts during
      DATE:  2016 Mar 13







We mature in knowledge and wisdom but never leave the playground of our hearts.


      DATE:  2016 Mar 13







Spring is the green
      is the peace
      is the breeze
      and the blossoms
      and the blues
      past the buds
      to the pinks
      on the brink
      and the warmth
      and the warbles
      and the weeds
      all the yellows
      and the bees
      and the buzzing
      living branches
      and the grasses
      and the gardens
      and the growing
      and the blowing
      of the pollens
      oh! the purples
      and the chirples
      of the birds
      and the beauty
      and the butterflies
      in the skies
      and the sun—
Springtime's fun!


      TITLE:  Jovial vernal verse
      DATE:  2016 Mar 12







Love stabs at loss with pangs of past happiness.


      DATE:  2016 May 1







life blooms right through death
and they beautify each other


      DATE:  2016 Apr 29







Books talk to you for an afternoon.
Literature speaks for generations.


      DATE:  2016 Aug 18







A bad attitude is a fog over your whole body.


      DATE:  2016 Aug 18







An open window is good company, like the burning candle of Lichtenberg.


      TITLE:  Morning solitude
      DATE:  2016 Aug 22
      QUOTING:  Georg Christoph Lichtenberg (1742–1799)

      “Man loves company even if it is only that of a small burning candle.”








Let love's apologies wait not 'til death's doorway.


      TITLE:  Letting in, letting out
      DATE:  2016 Oct 22







each newly graying hair i can hear —
blurring vision brings presbyopic fear


      TITLE:  Hyperaware moments, heedless years
      DATE:  2016 Oct 28
      NOTES:  revised







A poet rarely swashes ink
but mainly mists at subtleties.


      DATE:  2016 Mar 13







Poetry mends a broken arrow then shoots us in the heart with it.


      DATE:  2016 Feb 25







That breeze in your soul is adventure calling.


      DATE:  2016 Jan 2







I'll use my broom as a paintbrush and as I try to clean up my life, beautify it too.


      TITLE:  Sweeping changes
      DATE:  2016 Jan 24







It was a messy, whipping, every-which-direction, cold-drops-in-warm-air, big-splattered summer rain.


      TITLE:  Dancing in August rain
      DATE:  2016 Aug 24







Soul connections are often formed through the currents of adversity.


      TITLE:  Hard times melt & meld
      DATE:  2016 Oct 3







The monster signed its true name — Love.


      DATE:  2016 Jan 16







Spring excitement has entered my body, my mind, the yard!
Love vibes everywhere, bees buzz in every color of blossom.
Winter stillness ceased, idle grass is greening, trees are leafing,
the hummingbirds and geckos are back, renewed life abounds.
Warmth magics the earth, little sweet-song'd birds chirp and fly
in a playground of budding branches with a deep blue elixir sky.
Desert's mild morning chill invigorates our souls, beckons vigor,
and begs sweater or bare-arm decisions—if coffee's on, go bare!
freshly brewed, its steam through cool air hails springtime morn.
Earlier dawns light us awake with artful serenades of pink clouds;
gorgeous late-afternoon sunshine is Octoberesque and calming
but with air golden'd by warming fervor, not fall's cooling swelter.
Evening breezes perfume heavenly of passion & newborn blooms.
We've been waiting all winter for open windows—yay & yippee!


      TITLE:  Springtime distractions
      DATE:  2016 Feb 18







I've finally accepted that it just can't be escaped. This country is full of people who want to make their noise and, worse, make you listen.


      TITLE:  An escape to quiet no longer seems possible
      DATE:  2016 Mar 8







A poet swallows life and exhales painted words.


      TITLE:  Alchemy
      DATE:  2016 Mar 13







A poet is too impatient for prose. He needs an expressway to his emotions.


      DATE:  2016 Mar 13







Sometimes a relationship can hobble along for years with an injured leg of friendship or a broken wing of love.


      DATE:  2016 Mar 13







plum blossoms in the moonlit glow
of a late February calm cool night —
magical soul-stirring springtime sight


      TITLE:  Out the spring night window
      DATE:  2016 Feb 17







It's a rare, good morning when the most difficult thing I have to do is sip my coffee, stare out the window, and decide which I like better — a steady, lulling winter rain, or a big-drop, splattery-plopping summer rain.


      DATE:  2016 Jan 7







I can tell it's probably not going to be much of a productive day when I spend ten minutes over morning coffee trying to match each color of the sunrise to its corresponding crayon.


      TITLE:  Tickle me pink & atomic tangerine
      DATE:  2016 Jan 15







if all a bird knows is flying
but one day on the edge of a rooftop
realizes he's afraid of heights
do his wings feel heavier
does his brain swirl around
with the vertigo of fear? —

and if all I've ever known
is fear,
when I find inner peace
will my soul grow wings?


      TITLE:  Weight of wings
      DATE:  2016 Jun 9
      NOTES:  revised







Life doesn't hand out ribbons for best-lived. It's an internal decoration.


      DATE:  2016 Jul 6







First four decades time’s a hero
Then stops suddenly all the fun
Forty arrives a stranger new
But life is like a grand old tree
Strong yet flexible at the core
Roots ever deepen to stay alive
At this age there’s no real fix
Just patches is all, ’til heaven
Although it still be not too late
So let the autumn soul shine
Breathe and let thy life go zen


      TITLE:  Counting Up
      DATE:  2016 Jul 26
      SUMMATION:  Aging is integral to life.
      NOTES:  revised







When laughter feasts, sadness starves.


      DATE:  2016 Jul 6







The earth tucked herself in for the year with winter's frosty white blanket of snow.


      TITLE:  Winter lullaby
      DATE:  2016 Dec 19
      NOTES:  revised







Fry once the beans then fry again
Mix in a pinch of red cayenne
Top with queso that has been shred
Wrap all inside the steamrolled bread


      TITLE:  Bean & cheese burrito
      DATE:  2016 Dec 27
      NOTES:  culinarily inaccurate refried beans — poetic license







Middle age is a winding road through autumn woods.

° ° °

Middle age is a winding path through many-splendored autumn woods.

° ° °

Middle age is a winding path through motley autumn woods.

° ° °

Middle age is a winding path through mutable autumn woods.

° ° °

Middle age is a winding path through kaleidoscopic years.


      DATE:  2016 Oct 3
      NOTES:  couldn't make up my mind on this one







No matter how frustrating and scary everything else seems to be in this crazy world, at least there's this:  It's pumpkin pie season!


      DATE:  2016 Oct 17







Autumn doesn't always promise that Winter will come, but she works hard until every colored leaf has reached its destination.


      TITLE:  Autumnus opus
      DATE:  2016 Sep 2







A middle-aged woman's best friend is not diamonds but tweezers.


      TITLE:  Strays
      DATE:  2016 Apr 26







Rain utters poetry in drops, splats, and puddles.


      DATE:  2016 Aug 18







For every fear that spins out of control, backspin it with a good deed. You may be helping someone else who is afraid.


      TITLE:  Spinning
      DATE:  2016 Jul 21







i typed my tea
and drank my words
brewed every thought
ink whistled in the kettle


      TITLE:  A typewriter & a teapot
      DATE:  2016 Aug 19







rainy evening dilemma:
chamomile or earl grey


      TITLE:  Window Poems: Rainy Evening
      DATE:  2016 Aug 24
      NOTES:  revised







Life is an inconstant mix of aces and jokers, and often one is flipped face up when we're expecting the other.


      DATE:  2016 Aug 26







Vague hopes, pleasure and vice,
imaginations and dreams —
I have supped on them.


      TITLE:  Sustain
      SOURCE:  found poetry
      BOOK:  O. Mirbeau, Diary of a Chambermaid, trans. B. Tucker, 1900
      DATE:  2016 Mar 6







He is always chopping words into a bit of good advice.


      TITLE:  Wordsmith
      SOURCE:  found poetry
      BOOK:  O. Mirbeau, Diary of a Chambermaid, trans. B. Tucker, 1900
      DATE:  2016 Mar 6







Autumn writes her own poetry,
we are merely observers.


      DATE:  2016 Aug 18







A poet cannot stop writing poems — an ink-stained soul compels his obsession.


      DATE:  2016 Mar 13







Beneath fear, a bit of poetry always escapes. Sometimes, a ready soul picks it up and transforms it into beautiful verses of courage.


      TITLE:  Abandoned treasure
      DATE:  2016 Mar 2







How do you approach the wheel of time —
      do you ride her
      stick your foot in her gears
      ignore her slow grinding
      write poems of her elusive movement
      sync yourself with her dance
      or cry out in the cold night of her injustice & indifference?


      DATE:  2016 Feb 11







I long for a broad, black moustache—
manners, good-natured,
a man of genius, a man of elegance,
sympathetic, and smiling lips,
strength and good humor,
sensual, gentle, fun-loving,
with obscenity, and great kindness.


      TITLE:  The Perfect Man
      SOURCE:  found poetry
      BOOK:  O. Mirbeau, Diary of a Chambermaid, trans. B. Tucker, 1900
      DATE:  2016 Mar 6







Oh! indeed, it is not pretty—
dark, rotten, ugly, ugly industry,
the manufacture of sadness:
It seems like a prison.


      TITLE:  Machine age
      SOURCE:  found poetry
      BOOK:  O. Mirbeau, Diary of a Chambermaid, trans. B. Tucker, 1900
      DATE:  2016 Mar 6







gratitude, pleasure
work, eating
pray, purpose
laugh, laugh, laugh


      TITLE:  Good Life
      SOURCE:  found poetry
      BOOK:  O. Mirbeau, Diary of a Chambermaid, trans. B. Tucker, 1900
      DATE:  2016 Mar 6







A moment of living filled my heart—
brilliant, jeweled, and marvelous.


      TITLE:  Now feels like forever
      SOURCE:  found poetry
      BOOK:  O. Mirbeau, Diary of a Chambermaid, trans. B. Tucker, 1900
      DATE:  2016 Mar 6







A naked soul — virtue and velvet
A heart — joyous and lonely


      TITLE:  So as to not startle myself
      SOURCE:  found poetry
      BOOK:  O. Mirbeau, Diary of a Chambermaid, trans. B. Tucker, 1900
      DATE:  2016 Mar 6







Religion will soothe you
The chapel whispered psalms in my ears
Here is a beautiful sadness


      TITLE:  Church
      SOURCE:  found poetry
      BOOK:  O. Mirbeau, Diary of a Chambermaid, trans. B. Tucker, 1900
      DATE:  2016 Mar 6







My natural giddiness has been drearified by a society that has lost its way, but I will not get lost!... I will not let the rushed, sickened world knock me over... I walk the wellest paths of life. It is difficult, but they are beautiful.


      TITLE:  Trapped
      DATE:  2016 Jan 26







I am grateful for the silence of winter mornings, for the beauty and wonder of the glint of sunlight in frost melting to dew, for the early-riser's peaceful solitude that sets a mood of thankfulness, hope, and calm for the dawning day.

And to enhance these cherished and chilly morning moments with steaming hot coffee is a happiness I never take lightly. My good fortune in having the almost-daily opportunity fuels my gratitude even before the first sip and intensifies the flavor, warmth, and the close-my-eyes-to-savor-completely experience. Wrapping my hands around the warm mug, and inhaling, and drinking sip by sip — it is a gentle, calming, invigorating, aromatic, caffeinated meditation.

There's just something about cold mornings and hot coffee that awakens our hearts and brings Time to a crawl, until our mugs are empty then it lightning-bolts off into the waiting day.


      TITLE:  Coffee meditation
      DATE:  2016 Dec 8







YEARLY  ARCHIVES 2024,  2023,  2022,  2021,  2020,  2019,  2018,  2017,  YOU  ARE  HERE,  2015,  2014,  2013,  2012,  2011,  2010,  2009,  2008,  2007,  2006,  2005,  2004,  2003,  2002,  2001,  2000,  1999,  1998,  1997,  1996,  1995,  1994,  1993,  1992,  1991,  1990,  1980s,  ARCHIVES  HOMEPAGE





Terri Guillemets
Archives — 2016






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