• Alive. _____________________

and: sentient.

{1} dying; steering committee

{2} drying out; stainlesscrop_circles.jpg ly __ __that one look.

{3} {saving} and steel toe boot.  – bas in dirt. Reut a Caskat ; it is cheaper.                              Than words and actions.                                               love-and-fake-antiques-19864           THANKS.


Know Notes Aloud



Maybe or not
nothing, keyed
but a breath taken
anchored to create
seatbelts denied
smoked grass, poured gas
rear view backseat driven ride

base guitar, black bass
four strings uncooked and cast
re-keyed, the tiger swam at last
by darned maps, medicine token chips
drumsticks feather fields,
wild deer ticks
running lights and a pedal
steel guitar lick

beautiful chess boards fell
soon pieces meet neatly with love
playing muttered muddy water songs
a music sees the ebony cartel
dances become plays, plays become dances
with the turning of an allen wrench

blues crowds faded, creeks begin croaking
fenced, the dazed and hoaxed
despair dated, the fretboard floating,
blanched, the neck bowed, straightened on rosewood, coaxed
tuning proclaims know notes aloud

wolves blinked, eyes break opened
bluer than Utah’s salt lake
a world understood, stood understood, vinyl swill,
sweat pouring, pouring piano rained
water pelting like bullets kill
tickled ivory keys looking arranged
pictures hang, stretched on buffalo skin
promised like lines in pools
a dive so deep, one polish kiss

pride changed the rules
the sun re-aligned, flared and poached
winning ways, cymbols snare, united states lease
high hats, and luminous dates, a golden roach
guns lifted, marching marshell, swollen peace
a market place, large fruit, top of mantel
money tucked in the wallet of time, nothing urned
bongos banged, fired by candles, the war burned
c clef that says know notes aloud

a flight ticketed, flirting contained,
a baby’s handprint due,a tailored garden, a reading road
calender’s re-printed, a press word key ,labor day cue
weekend goodbyes, memories sent abroad susustained
a foreclosed site, autumn maple ray, paved, slowed
grass marquee played, the bees harbored, john deer shoed
from a to z,uncharted paper bundled, ride
laminated, cut, pasted, then pathed
highway ridden, Kentucky skinned, Louisianna and lathed

one new fishing rod, pinned, our fate, basted word press
our black grandmother’s address,
Gerry Mandered, us again split in two
walking in silver, slandered, shoes
a crooked clap, again at the cape
a four track, trading tape
a clapping preamble
a horn’s blow, geese honk
the majority whip
the tambourine trembles
are unheard, redress
we are the singers
the siren
know notes aloud

Poem by Heather Whitley Gibson

Pinned Between


She walked that kaleidoscope scene
pinned between that flat
cooled glass, chewed edges dated,
colored raised and faded.
Without a trace the scar
was the perfect mark.
The unbroken embrace,
wearing an odd dress.

Pairs of sorrowed shoes,
tied necklaces.
The letters lettered gold,
raised and braised.
There were wars to retrace,
prayer to be spoken.
Hands to raise, collar bones broken,
cold coals turned over.

Open grace, spines of books,
the scar, still the unbroken embrace.

She saw the forgiving, the setting,
a rock sliced.
For a ring sliced in guillotine time
harnessed like chalk words.
Slapped together, erased,
shifted the sugar.
Then flour floating down
the ashed snow.

A rolling stone gown reminisce,
kaleidoscope address.
The fading scar, the bird’s recall
a Siamese cat’s fall.
The wired coo coo clock,
outside the held phone call.
One lonely sigh, a forgiven stay,
a tomorrow sing along.

Will-owing the age of sight.
Younger roots bearing to the right.

A rolling stone gown reminisce,
kaleidoscope address.
The fading scar, the bird’s recall
a Siamese cat’s fall.
The wired coo coo clock,
outside the held phone call.
One lonely sigh, a forgiven stay,
a tomorrow sing along.

Woven deed made, a baked chicken.
Tobacco leaves, the tucked skin

Poem By Heather Whitley Gibson

Yesterday’s Moth

A cloth thread
it was yellow; shinning
bright steel blue
cob webs; recyclability
drips design retractable
and Tuesday received
buckets freely
I see a moth
from yesterday poems on
a blank piece of paper
cloth; thoughtfully pinned
inside made
thoughtfully re-read intimately
tube; in my heart
leering down
it’s sinful weakness

My ears are doing-that
wiping out
hands off; buzzards; leftover
ground down white wrapped yarn
the bones of a coat; hung hanger
wreck debris aged
falling of the bone
in waves; falling off the bone
in waves; it just comes
nothing hurts
it’s supposed to


Poem By Heather Whitley Gibson