http://slow.writerscafe.org/Phibby The original writings of author Phibby Venable en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1775965637 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 After Effects My aunt, queen of double talk, told me righteously, kindly, to open the door, and how one never knew if angels were beingentertained unawares But other times she whispered, Don't open the door! It could be a maniac! So I was always waiting for th.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Phibby/2161811/ Morning PiecesI grow uncertain of anything being wholeI unravel in cotton clothes,become someone sitting in astraight back chair, softly woven,sagging enough for comfortA wooden plank floor, worn with goodbyesSwan smoke floating through myhalls of passageA respect for the root of thingsA dance to br.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Phibby/2161655/ Watching A Boy Die It is not like you think -- all because of hope, because it is so adroitly certain A hot halo of sun, a wide soft blue floating through a cerebral whiteness Over and over he said h http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Phibby/2161625/ (not sure if I have posted this one or not) xx http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Phibby/1472828/ If you love me sane - how will you ever find me when the stubborn hairline recedes & my head opens to a broken axle... When my simple thoughts turn buoyant & fly beyond the gateway you have adjusted so carefully And a madness that is alien to your love comes out in a small hum rising Flingin.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Phibby/1472428/ Some days I remember who I am and shove my boat forward to linger in a drawn out curve... in the river where I grow small and check myself for word wounds that swim after me biting the hand I hang outside the boat Some days I gather paper hearts Paint them red & leave them on the snowbank for c.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Phibby/1472190/ I am sitting beside a wine red kite for the companionship & quiet We are in a field behind Food Country... where the train tracks are busy to our front and the dumpster behind us is being investigated for boxes by a man intent on moving some place new The kite is named Lucy Loo & never flie.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Phibby/1462469/ http://coldcoffeemagazine.com/book-spotlight-bones-of-a-generous-woman-new-and-selected-poems-by-phibby-venable/ http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Phibby/1379432/  When I walk down this road the dirt liftsin softly powdered puffsof brownStanding before the treesare sunflowers wide openin an expressionof golden curiousityAlmost gaudy in rich colorand leaning sidewayswith facestwisting toward the topsof tall trees that standrichly protectiveThe flowers are.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Phibby/1162065/  There is a place that sells beer,makes music, drops to a whisperat two a.m.and everyone becomes a wandereron the dance floorwhere a light turns overheadthrowing soft strikesinto the warm darkof arms entwined intoa universe of twoThere is a plank porch outsideto watch the moonwhich is hanging h.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Phibby/1162059/  Some place, perhaps nearby,the waves high five the beach,a thunderous, joyful rush,as the sea swiftly withdraws in a cleansing of cool triumphI wonder how the graceful swans would ride the breaking waves -so dignified & smooth,perhaps bored with the lakesI think it would be a lovely thingt.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Phibby/1162058/  This morning is a thunderstormof lightning in high jumpsflashing across the silent peaksof mountains that hold their ownThe air is alive in a respirationof hurried breathing & your facelingers in the skyline exhalingeverything you gave before giving upThe rain is wind blown in thisindecisi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Phibby/1162057/   i am always losing things the small town i grew up in shrank beyond hand's reach my first kaleidoscope left with a daisy chain in the grass i lost my wedding ring to a southern beach, the gold failing to direct me ... through the yellow sand and i lost a man, once or twice, on some verbal ba.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Phibby/1162056/   Rain is still falling and we are cellmates abandoned in this false landscape of the dead now more alive than the living Lily, Stella, Paggie, chatter in my mother's world where I must conform to a stadium of strangers that talked before my time My mother's ears have broken to my voice .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Phibby/1162054/   This door was never hung properly to begin with, so my bedroom opens to a back stab of wounds I wade again & again & call it love - though love would grow astonished at the comparsion there is a luminous moon... inside of me, that quarters itself in relentless cycles, but shows itsel.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Phibby/1162053/ I place you in a firmamentand you fall outa cornucopia of good intentionsthat stray sideways and spillinto this rural settingTogether we meanderinto the opaque morningwhere I try to pray mellifluousagainst the lassitude of uncertaintythat rambles into viewWhen the fog rises in contrastto the mountai.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Phibby/1133984/ Wild fern, unflowerable, rugged with rootsIn my country you ride a hard windin a fragile darkness of greenerylooking small before the sunYou seem so lonely hereSoftness and shade, your hideaway,your seasonal view of thingsNow Winter has begun, and the two of ushover near bluehearted springslighthead.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Phibby/1107625/ I was better at loving horsesA pension's worth of gentlenessgraced their large eyesand they were curious at conversationso I spoke quietly, deferringto their occasional crunch of feed,glancing away discreetly from their personal needsUnsaddled and waiting for the nexthuma.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Phibby/1107105/ In this poem, a bird rides the back of a plane, exerts little effort, stares into the sky, naming the famous faces he finds in cloud formationsDown below, a train grows complex,balking at dark tunnels, bellowing, Nooo, nooo, nooooo, ,as the tracks clack with laughter, and the engineer sleeps, facing.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Phibby/1105554/ It is too dark to see the nightShadows sharpen and expand,a cover up against the moonIt is too dark to see myselfmy eyes pretend to welcome blackMy thoughts grow restless, then step outonto the ebony and glideI recreate a moon outsideI add the stars & let them fallin different sections of the wo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Phibby/1104909/ Treachery of HandsI have a scarring mass of tiny marksall along the heartline of my handsI read them with a restless need to purgethe disappointment of too frugal loveToday I saw my puzzled hands still heldforgotten trees that summer left behind,they were too quick to sky & grew too largeI saw t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Phibby/1104528/ you find a word and drop the vowelan o couplet comes rolling outO' eloquence, O' Elixirno need to hide beneath the chairdemure the molecules of soundthere was a comely harbingerincipient, with a fairy's hairarrived, a gossamer so fineI took her thoughts & made them minethis is for you, my lovely.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Phibby/1104490/ One small gray view agothe window offered up her panebland sharp with peacockrain stained tintsa view that bred a restlessnessa church of feelings, small regretsThe fog folds up into itselfin serpent movements on a hunttill there - a mainland lacking beach,incorporates a pulse of blackand slowly ble.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Phibby/1104246/ walking ocean side in wet, packed sandI was struck dumb by a wave -forgetting how drenching giantswould leap suddenly to shorein a waterlogged flash, open mouthedand salted like supper,I could hear the singing of shellscracking with laughter against my skullthere is no dignified way to risein shifti.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Phibby/1103058/ when the world sitsher knees rise like mountainsprophets trace life linesbetween her legsin these exclusive momentsshe agonizes about workbut settlesher mossy feet to baskin the flattery of the sun http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Phibby/1103054/ I will put away Winter in your eyes and create a Japanese garden idealized in aesthetic brightness There will be a philosophy of compromise concealed in our backpacks at all times and when the day is too stubborn we will step out into a crowded theatre No one will know our names or keep track of o.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Phibby/1099634/ The sea holds a reputation, choppy,frothy, unaccountable, and diversebut I cannot be worriedwith the futility of thatA quiet gull fancies my shoulderA fisherman brings my trayI have a gift of gauging  islandsmany miles awayNothing here is self important ordistressfully intense I steer myse.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Phibby/1099167/ Drink the richest burgundy and age yourselfwith the swift changes of mirrorsliding into one stage after anotherSome days the wind pleats the drapesthrough an open window as a storm rolls,and the dogs, embalmed with terror,shake in the density of warm coverDrink it anyway! the portraits crossingthe w.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Phibby/1099118/ This year was a black snake riverI waded in hips boots. Morning kept whispering, birds in brownish longingsang soft and far awaywomen rode to town waving goodbye & shouting invitations backwardsI was a plain bank watching waterpress my legs awayEach day I dusted the calendar and collected m.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Phibby/1098487/ That day I felt like a boxcar backing into tomorrow ~ Nothing clanged together properly or fit into a shadow of itself There was only me with a false light of expectations falling over my shoulder I pointed out the porch swing, stone walk, an upstairs apartment secure in itself that we could offe.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Phibby/1096599/ Why walk where the past smudges into dead wood -though once, long ago, it broke upwards, emerald with fresh beliefI cannot stop myself from traveling old roads -a swimmer in damp leaves and rainThere is nothing lost, only remembered, in the quiet step of thingsToday Winter will have its way;my soul .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Phibby/1089926/ young relative on drugs http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Phibby/1089898/ Star FlightThe smooth black space of the skysparkling stars in miniature & designDid you see my star fall in Nepal -a burst of light in blue celebrationMy eyes have written you a watchful letterI am listening to ebony & starlightThere is nothing to worry aboutbut you fret the words and wonde.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Phibby/1088482/ A covert sun swims upward from the sea She hears the summoning of morning song The roses in her hair rise up and grow into a hair band she flings to the world I am here to watch the world complete a glowing coral sea bath on the beach and you, my dancing flame of discontent, throw shells at gulls t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Phibby/1086486/ In Case This Day Will Not GentleI will walk the evening in streetlights -the dew visible in lines of magicthe dogs sadder than a loonin a howl of hopefulnessBack home will be a pink shell on my dresser that I can hold in pale lovelinessclosing my ear to everything but the oceanI will play it safe wi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Phibby/1083721/ she changes fast, unfazed by an opinionheld yesterdayit is a roller coaster catch up to rememberwhat she loves todayfey wings whisper her into the skyas she hovers uncertain, and listeningsometimes I want to anchor words on her lips, scream like an imbecile for clarity,jerk the emergency stop and re.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Phibby/1082787/  ~leave no stone unturnedThe next stone I turn will be an applestill lost in the memory of pink and white blossomssoft with the overtaste of vinegarvigorously holding to the solid groundWe will sit together in an acidic understandingthe gift of sweetness tinged with a tangand a sodden forgivene.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Phibby/1078470/ It is morning & the mutiny of dawnswirls darkened clouds in a dullness of lightThe sun has hidden in reprisal stancea taken for granted feel against the skyIt is fine here, though, unstirred and coldly calm,slower than my breath that turns to fogThe black shadows of limbs stand stoic stiffI have.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Phibby/1078447/ In the mirror you smooth your haira satellite records the weatheron a tv I never wanted in the bedroomOutside the sun is a hidden beaconraining on continents and turninginto a world of downpoursI am a balm of suggestionsbut you are impatient and vaguein the moodiness of morningYour agenda is a stopw.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Phibby/1076589/ I watch the mountains prune themselvesand imagine they cannot debunk the gossip of seasonal demands and expectationsIt is cold this morning and they are my apostles,tuning the sun and rending leavesI wish I could find the holy places;the sanctuaries of love and griefgone now down to rockI am an.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Phibby/1073387/ for my mother http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Phibby/1070685/ This Mountain Stream Is A Promise RingI waver on the edge of fidelityin a husk of cattails icedleaning apartTheir spirit and spine fullness,strain against the darkThis mountain stream engagesin a cool cerebral viewLeaf freckled ,soft mossesmeadowed crevices of groundA promise rides the currentsthat .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Phibby/1070684/ I Throw Things OutThe era tumbles and closeswith the clang of a lidI shift through the densityof old days and interestsin an exploration of what I needto continue, what can I carryinside the present embodimentof myselfIt is Autumn and I am youngerthan is effective for my ageThere is a wild light wit.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Phibby/1070683/  October stands in vertebrae,the mountain skeletal with reach,diminished greenery leaves the sketch,as colors fall beyond regret. All the strong reduce to boneto crumble near the mountain's stone, cool and unexpressive face.Nothing here I find, can last. The mountain changes, rivulets.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Phibby/1048677/  Autumn slips into bleachers unseen until the wind of her applause The way birds shift & huddle their plans toward soft warm breezes I have grown sectional and place old worlds in plastic wrappings, uncertain and bland by all appearances Leaves nod off and stray from branches The ocean c.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Phibby/1028725/ since my husband's death, i believe I have taped the whole place together, i do like how flexible all the broken things are. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Phibby/1028695/   This is how it is when the breeze is locked in the softness of a fog and I am trying to believe in myself but stumbling in negativity. even the flowers are uncertain, the fire blazing low, the floors crumbling in strategic spots. There is the skillet smoking up the kitchen, the washer danc.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Phibby/1027258/ Unfinished Dream I awaken from a dream world of symbols & situations I want to run back to that warm climate but listen to the effervescence of birds tuning up to a froth The hallway is just a short walk to a window Outside, the leaves demonstrate how.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Phibby/1025827/  Perhaps I shouldn't be here at dawnnudging the stone mattress, watchingmorning blossom a hint of inspiration.Sometimes a glow isn't enoughThe lavender outside the windowstaring purple eyed at bird songssignals the beginning of another dayThere was no indication last nightwould not stay, that t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Phibby/1025826/   Caught in the bottleneck of a couch I call comfortable, the sun sends morning slices through the blinds and all is yellow; slats, eggs, my stomach after a night that slipped through to morning too quickly There is a colorful bruising of blue here Somewhere a vacation has joined my heartbeat .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Phibby/1025822/