Poetry has a dark glitter that lives between meanings . . .

momtearFor me, poetry has always been a way to express the inexpressible. Poetry allows the unsaid to rest easy among unspoken words.

This morning I’m feeling, more than thinking, a pull toward that world. Remembrances of times, places and people hover, but are not accessible in the real world any longer: reality has moved on.

My life has been an unsettled journey. Many parts are often shared only on the page–even then, the right page has to come along. While my prose is generally light-hearted, my poetry is dark.

Life begins in darkness, lives in color, and ends in darkness. There is poetry in darkness, as there is darkness in poetry.

Life is not always about happiness. Actually, life is best when it is about meaning, and meaning is generally a solemn moment; often a private moment.

Meaning is something we can only find for ourselves. Each one of us, one at a time.

Mona L S Baisch


Ashes to Ashes

Yellow can be safe among the daffodils
but where can I put yellow after daffodils bloom.

White is brides and babies and snow in winter,
everything new, everything clean–
the color of an old lady’s skin.

Green comes in shades of life
and sings the songs of the sun and the moon.

Blue is daylight’s best dress and her cloak at night.

Crimson would have stayed in my heart forever
but life took its knife and crimson runs down my legs.

Gray would like to play like green and blue
and spill like crimson or hide like yellow
but it’s afraid to try.

White is too hard.

–Mona L S Spaulding (Baisch) circa 1996

Thinking about Robin . . .


Words and ideas can change the world, and don’t let anyone tell you different.

Robin Williams — I’m not sure how close this is to a quote from the Dead Poet’s Society; but it’s close.

What have I been reading?

Tennessee Williams--said by some to the the genius of a group of very talented contemporaries.

Tennessee Williams–said by some to the the genius of a group of very talented contemporaries.

I haven’t said much here lately about what I’ve been reading. Here’s the list–going back about a month:

Barbara Rogan: A Dangerous Fiction, Cafe Nevo. These are both good books, but I absolutely loved Cafe Nevo.

Truman Capote: Selected Writings. I’ve been reading and re-reading Truman all year; there’s something about his writing I simply love. Much of it is lyrical and poetic, but not all. This man seems to have been many people–and they all show up eventually.

Larry McMurtry: The Berrybender trilogy. I always enjoy McMurtry. This series has some interesting characters–some fictional, some fictionalized real persons. Who but McMurtry would come up with someone known as Sin Killer?

Lyle Leverich: Tom: The Unknown Tennessee Williams. I have two biographies of Williams on my shelf; I’m starting with this one as it has pages and pages of lovely pictures. Pictures go a long way toward helping me understand what the person, his life, family and significant others were all about.

FYI: I’m done with the fiction listed above; I’m re-reading Capote (concentrating this time on the writing not the story); and I’ve just started the biography of Tennessee Williams.


I tend to be a day-time writer and a night-time reader. It’s a system that works for me, although I’d love to be able to write at night.  I can edit, but not write at the end of the day. This month, September, I am pushing to finish a clean edit of the first Leona the Fairy book. Here I am at 1: 30 in the morning, just getting ready to read myself to sleep after a rather long day, and night, of keeping company with my fairy book.

Tonight, I’m finishing Capote’s short story, A Christmas Memory–written in 1946. It was originally published in Mademoiselle (back when women’s magazines published good fiction), later included in a collection titled Selected Writings of  Truman Capote.

Goodnight folks,

Mona L S Baisch