Saturday, October 22, 2016


As I stand before the iron gate, 

not knowing why I came to this forsaken place.

I am so very weary, at the end of this great battle,

I have no home at which to rest my body near a mantle.

A  foreshadowing of dread courses through me,

Yet, methinks, reverence knows thy duty.

The decrepit gate creaks as I liberate it from it's frame, 

As I hopelessly yearn to be cradled in an embrace,

or, for one last look upon your face.

Lo, my hand remains on the bloody blade,

a useless blade, 

which allows no escape, nor protection;

as there is no one here, to receive my last confession.

A silent presence haunts my every step;

I feel an augur of its wintry breath, 

deliver shivers at the back of my neck.

Twigs and branches snap beneath my feet,

Shadows advance, but do not speak.

And, as I fall onto bruised knees,

Eerily, I feel exposed and broken,

as I fear, the wraiths of night have awoken.

A drum in the distance begins to beat;

No, not a drum, simply my heart in repeat.

My cries become a low, whimpering wail;

And, as the darkness mingles with hail, 

I am aware that these silver knots...

this argent mail... 

in the end, 

can protect me naught.

As the torch flickers, 

and the stars twinkle,

The sun descends.

©Denise Goodwin, All Rights Reserved

Image credit: Pinterest via

Sunday, October 16, 2016


I want to live in a country where the definition of separation, 
means distance, and nothing else;
Because we love each other, despite of our hardships or wealth.
Where all men are created equal, includes women, too;
And that we have the right to do with our bodies what we choose.
Prosperity through hard work, is still the American Dream,
And, I believe that our country's ideology can be redeemed.
We should not tolerate power as a means to molest,
nor should women normalize or expect an unwanted caress.
We've come to far, to be reduced and ridiculed;
Our minds should not be dismissed, nor our bodies misused.
Shame on you, who turn a blind eye to repeated incidents,
For you are degrading the victims and mocking the innocent.
Many are defending the actions of one, as a common distraction;
But, if you're jumping on the wagon of this adverse reaction,
You're flaming our flag and disparaging our one nation.
Wake up!  These people are paid, that you see on the news,
To support him and his distorted point of views;
For anyone with one shred of decency,
Would never tolerate his racism, hatred and obscenities. 
Some of you must have turned the channel,
during that last, now famous, debate; 
Because the world was bombarded with irrelevant babble,
and, most of his answers were to topics that didn't relate.
Our world is changing, and not what it used to be, 
We live in real time, and are barraged with rapid technology;
Our country is riddled with problems, this much is true,
But don't we all stand under that flag of red, white and blue?
Because, above all, Democracy should be stressed:
The American Dream remains the same:
Through hard work, we can all reap the same benefits, 
But only if we work together, without bigotry or prejudice.
Civil Unions should not be regarded as sin, 
Because love is love, where ever one finds it!
And, one should never be judged by the color of their skin;
Old Jim Crow should be buried, gone and dead;
But stands to be resurrected, if he is elected -
and this we should dread!
We need to continue to develop laws that are reflect our times,
And our lives are endangered, if you think otherwise.
For our own safety, background checks for those who want guns,
Is plain common sense, and these we should conduct.
Your rights will still be preserved under the Second Amendment,
You can still hunt and have fun with your guns,
But let's protect each other, and our little ones.
I believe that one must educate themselves on political facts,
Before you make statements from contorted rhetoric.
A Presidential candidate should be experienced,
and should possess a grain of common sense.
Unlike him, she is calm, cool and collected;
She's traveled the world, and is well connected.
Imagine this churl having high tea with the Queen!
Truly, you're not that naive, 
to think he's capable of negotiating world peace?
America, now is the time to dig down deep,
Can you really trust a man with nukes, that you can bait with a tweet?
I am a female who votes, and I'm a U.S. veteran,
And, I take offense when our freedom is threatened.
Yet, many continue to praise him for his business brilliance;
And, I don't care if he's worth one cent or millions,
For, if all Americans are held to the same standard, 
That our intention is to pay our fair share of tax, 
Shouldn't he be held to the same expectation?
Are you excusing this behavior,
because he's famous for giving the axe?
(This guy can't even find Syria on a map).
Yet, weeks have passed, and he still has not provided this information.
A world leader should not represent power through intimidation
Nor, should our immigrants be threatened with relocation.
How many decades have we fought to tear down walls?
Yet, he wants to build another, twice as tall!
Her emails in question, are simply strategies of an election,
And for the record, 
there is nothing wrong with striving toward perfection.  
Maybe you could take a lesson!
The election draws near, so here's your last chance,
To stand with the woman with stamina and perseverance.
Who is ready to defend the down-trodden and the disabled,
For she has proven she's steady at the helm and more than able.
She has proven she'll fight for the voiceless, and the victims;
She will provide you with facts, and doesn't rely on fiction. 
Examine your conscience, and cast an anchor into the blue;
Our nation is bleeding, divided, and there is too much hate;
And it is because of this, I must advocate:
Never, ever believe that he can "make our country great".

 © Denise Goodwin, 10/16/16

Thursday, October 13, 2016

Of Silence

Leaves swiftly drift from a medley of trees;
My eyes devour the stained leaves;
For the leaves on the bough are fleeting.
I regard the transience of each leaf,
as it departs from its matriarch;
and wonder if she is bleeding.

They break free, and disembark,
as if released from chains;
and whirl in the wind so carelessly.
Unconcerned and indifferent,
They descend, onto their winter grave.

I peer beyond the facade of my peripheral,
Yearning to anchor to the visceral;
I  behold the skeletal tree trunks,
of sugar maple, beech and oak;
Stationed silent, like Monastic monks, 
in umber, elongated cloaks.

By chance, I spied tall green fern, 
with leaves so manifold and delicate;
The elegant blades have unfurled 
and splay outward, 
unreserved and upturned.
They emerge from the earth, 
like feathered plumes,
Appear like the crowns of ancient dragoons.

The forest interior is suddenly more exposed,
and blue moss covers a fallen tree;
Its presence like corpse, half decomposed,
Yet, I conclude, its seminal beauty.
Its color compliments the cerulean stream, nearby;
as water rushes over rocks, creating a natural lullaby.

Beneath my feet, 
acorns and leaves are crushed,
and branches break;
Unable to refrain from the noise I make,
I  pause, to contemplate.
Have I disturbed the voiceless monks,
Leaving this dissonance, in my wake?

©Denise Goodwin, All Rights Reserved

Saturday, October 1, 2016


noun:  recollection, in particular.  The remembering of things from a supposed previous existence.

I shall always remember, that first September,
taking tranquil walks along the bay;
and, our endless discourse of maritime history.
It was a time of unending discussion,
of ­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­strings and percussion; and of our destiny.
And, for every potential problem, 
we secured a simple remedy.

We exchanged the intimacy of falling tears, 
and the awkward disclosure of fears;
Tender words were written and exchanged;
Other times, words were not needed, 
as we idly whiled the hours away.
We would wake at the break of day
and across the harbor, we'd gaze.
And, within these lovely visions 
of harbor and bay, your apparition remains. 

We warmed ourselves with blankets,
Void of the conventional velvet venery;
For that kind of love was always absent, 
as you cleverly cultivated your detachment from me.
And, I survived the disturbed daughter, 
who wanted nothing more, than me, to slaughter;
Because, she was too blind 
to see that the fault wasn't mine,
And, persisted to thrust all of her hatred onto me.

She blamed me, for her drunken Daddy;
Though, Daddy was the one who told me 
to perceive her cold projection, 
as the result of the childhood rejection.
(Which, had nothing to do with me).
Her perceptive brother, who was grounded,
understood such reactions were unfounded;
That each life, had it's own responsibilities.

I renounced a decade of my life, 
to portray a devoted wife;
Supporting his fermented strife, 
while he sought spiritual attainment
and consumed copious amounts of wine or beer.
I worked, and paid the rent, while he was hell bent 
to weep over a non-existent career.

And today, I am unashamed to admit my mistakes, 
because I was right there with him, all the way.
I did my share of drinking, never thinking 
of the tides that were twisting,
because we were both deeply sinking into that bay.
And yet, I never ran away...
I was the one who transported him to rehab,
while supporting our mutual handicap.

I stayed and endured the angry rants and raging,
the unwelcome and excruciating education 
of the results of his holy meditating;
And, I bet you never knew of the taps he gave me,
while he was relating, his afflicted point of view?
I doubt that he can even remember, 
because was blind with booze and temper, 
and my point of view, was frequently misconstrued.
No, the bottle, he couldn't surrender, 
while his preaching and temper grew.

Repeatedly, we changed geographic locations, 
and I did so, without question, 
to encourage his artistic vocation, 
but he could never find another occupation,
because he left that up for me to do.
Though the environments changed, 
the facts remain, that we had aged. 
and our connection became increasingly estranged.

The day came, when he asked me the question,
through lips stained with purple wine,
"Do you think we're through?"
And I replied, "I think it's time."
I finally possessed a peace that I never knew.
I released no tears, and expressed no grief; 
For, today, I cannot utter anything but the truth.

In that moment, I gushed a flood of relief.
I held no delusions of a failed romance, 
nor did I labor under a false pretense
that there was any chance of a future with him.
In retrospect, my indifference was astonishing,
as we packed and divided out things;
I knew that he was off to snare his next victim,
with new promises of love and religion.

I was not the first, nor will I be the last.
For he had never ceased his search, 
Even though he always preached 
about not living in the past.
Though, it shames me to be disrespectful,
I'm convinced he sought her earning potential;
and even though, everyone knows
the past is where he left bridges burned,
It is precisely there, he returned. 

©Denise Goodwin, All Rights Reserved
Image credit:

Thursday, September 29, 2016


Heck and Belle have been together for years,
And, last night they went out for a couple of beers;
They got home, after leaving that bar and grill, Belle said, 
"I saw you flirtin' with that bleach-blonde, Jill,"

Heck stretched and yawned,
"Well, I saw you eyeballin' that high cotton Bill, 
Now, come over here where you belong."

Belle was fired up and fixin' to fight,
She said, "You might be tired, but I can go all night."
She dug in her heels, and came out charging,
"Hey, Prince Charming, don't let me steal your thunder, 
 'cause according to her, you're the next world wonder."

Belle paused for a moment, and withdrew her claws,
and said, "How can I hate you, and love you, too?"
You better duck and cover, and call your lawyer,
'cause I'm gonna tar and feather you.
And, you know, black always looked good on you."

Heck chuckled out loud, 
"Girl, take off that crown;
Your halo is dirty from scraping the ground.
You need a warning sign and back up lights;
And, you ain't never gonna win this fight."

"Black is a color of Model T's and limousines,
For Johnny Cash, and bad guys in movies.
Black is for the Wicked Witch of the West
and you, looking sexy in that little black dress."

"Keep talkin' to the Devil," Belle said with a sneer,
"You know that he's bound to appear;
Let me put on the kettle, 
'cause weren't not done here."

Belle shook her head, and said with a smile, 
"You're a real spit-fire, sit down for a while;
You know, Hell is reserved for cowboys, that's true.
Right now, I wish you were six feet under
Because black always looked good on you."

"Black is the color of clouds and licorice sticks,
And, the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse;
You won't be smiling when I cock this .45
And send you to that big ranch in the sky."

He kissed her neck and then her mouth,
and softly said, "Baby, I gonna take you south,"
He said, "I ain't taking no Texas cakewalk, 
so dry your pretty eyes... you're fit to be tied.
I ain't gonna ride that pale horse to the sky."

"My heart is black and blue and bruised all over",
Belle was crying, trying to find her composure,
"Your heart is like a chunk of coal,
Black and mean, and hard and cold."

"Put away that gun, you're gonna hurt someone..."
Heck had a way with words that drove her wild,
and, she was melting now, in spite of her self.

"Black is for whiskey labels, judges and cops,
You ain't leaving 'til I pull out all the stops.
I won't be pushing daisies any time soon,
'cause you love me, and I love you...."

"And, black looks good on the floor 
when I've got you naked, and furthermore,
when you've washed off all that makeup."

Belle knew when she was licked and confessed,
That she loved her two-timing redneck, 
"Right now I feel like Little Bo Peep,
tending the flock with one black sheep."

"Black is for crows, and pirates like you,
With a patch on his eye and only one shoe,
Do what you must, but you better not rush,
'cause I'm acquainted with all your stunts, 
and Baby, I love you, too."

©Denise Goodwin, All Rights Reserved

Sunday, September 18, 2016

You, Me and God

I have arrived at the end, and all things must end, 

And, here at the end, knowing I shall not survive,

I feel compelled to analyze how love transcends, for the beginning is the end,

As the body leaves, the soul circles 'round again.

Though, I am too lost to attempt to explain the spiritual;

It seems that feelings, now, are for the weak and sentimental.

Yet, here we stand, holding a hand across our breast;

as if  hurled from a maelstrom of a woeful tempest.

Gazing into each other's eyes, we've arrived at the divide,

Between the rain showers, and the sun's torrid flames.

And, neither can command the sky, nor the tides;

For we all parallel between forgiveness and blame.

Perhaps, I've grown bitter, as I consider that

my heart's regard is that I owe fealty to no one.

For this story is not yet over;  No, it has just begun.

Through the usual pain and suffering,

We cannot describe with words the ordinary imagery;

Like, all things must die, and thus, return to dust,

like any life devoid of sustenance, withers.

Indeed, the virtues of love are crucial, yet terrible;

And, are far more complex than any metaphor can deliver.

All of life is beautiful and ugly, it is both hellish and heavenly;

These opposing illusions create our everlasting reality.

And though, life's conclusion is truly horrible in it's finality;

My heart desires to express a measure of felicity.

I am not so cold or indifferent to deliver this message,

without a deliberate degree of concluding serenity.

For, in my mind, I know that our parting is not real,

And, true love only exists outside the confines of this world,

What we think and what we feel, are how we strive to define

the ribbons of emotion that naturally unfurl.

Here, on earth our insignificance is regrettably clear.

We are diminutive, absorbed beings spinning on a sphere;

And, there are exterior forces, far greater than you or me.

We shall all return to the Creator, eventually;

Void of the familiar chains of common mortality.

Far removed from the metaphysical explanations,

Love transcends.

Love transcends into a light,

so pure and unconditional,

that is not easily explained,

though, many have tried, in vain.

As I leave, my soul will transcend

over the turbulent seas and pastoral planes;

And, if I had only one thought to leave you,

Know that I'd come home to you, again.

There are no further conclusions,

which I have not uttered or expressed;

For, in death, 

we can no longer oppose one another,

but embody only the best.

©Denise Goodwin, All Rights Reserved

Image credit: “Lovers:  Death and the Maiden” by Jaroslaw Datta
via Pinterest

Friday, September 16, 2016


Daily, I carry with me,
feelings of doubt and despair.
I know not from where they come,
As they manifest from thin air.
I seem to question everything,
From the unjust to the fair;
Surely there must be others,
Who think like me, and care?
"Do the right thing",
a voice echos from within;
Yet, apparently,
You are blind to what others see.
There are rules for all;
Nonetheless, it's your perception,
that you are the exception, and
For you, we will take the fall.
You will blame it on ignorance,
or lacking common sense.
Children and fools tell the truth;
yet this couldn't include you...
No, you are too calculating and cool.
We will suffer the consequences,
as the result of your deception.
Should I mention?
It will be at your own expense.
Though I live with my own insecurities,
I will always stand on the side of honesty.
So, just when you think no one is watching,
your plotting and dodging,
you will be snared in the net of hypocrisy.
So, publicly, I say to thee,
I disapprove of this perfidious ruse.
One day, you will ask me to choose,
But, I won't swing from your noose.
Over your grave, I will be dancing;
I'll be the last one standing,
waving the flag integrity.

©Denise Goodwin, All Rights Reserved

Image credit: