the girl with crazy dance

The girl with two left feet
darker shade in her eyes and
deeper hue of black in her hair.
She goes
tap tap tap tap tap tap dancing
in her most trusted shoes
giving all she has to keep up
with the music, her steps upbeat
albeit a little off.
Tonight though it seems,
the rustling of the trees outside
is louder, calling out her name.
So she twirls and swirls and twists and turns
glides through the crowd
toward open air where
her melody takes her by the hand
as she continues her crazy dance.


For #WhisperingNeds 122, ‘dances (dance, dancing)’.

© annie scribes 2018
all rights reserved


and so they arrive

and so they arrive at the border
unsure of what got them there—
the push or the pull
but something in the deep dark black hole
beckons from the other side of the wall
as they crawl closer,
shapes and shades dance

and so they gaze into each other’s eyes
with a knowing smile:
it’s time


For #WhisperingNeds 121, ‘losing it’.

© annie scribes 2018
all rights reserved

space within

voices echo in the void
tired ears straining to hear
the one thing that matters
in all that chatter

hollow space an eerie place
for broken pieces wanting to be whole
hiding while searching for their pace
in a world measured not by hearty effort
but by results and numbers

the only way to sieve out the noise
is to turn into themselves
caressing scars on walls of chambers:
each one a memento
of attempts to worship those


For #WhisperingNeds 119, ‘when will the noise stop/solitude’.

© annie scribes 2018
all rights reserved

puzzle(d) pieces 

a piece puttering
across space
looking nothing
like me

edges and corners
in all the wrong places–
looking nothing
like mine

then distance disappears
our edges and corners embrace
a perfect fit
for each other:

we are pieces, discovering
we’re a part of a bigger scheme


For #WhisperingNeds 118, ‘pointless rivalry/appreciating difference’. 

Listen here

© annie scribes 2018
all rights reserved

selling out

corner office looking out to the harbor
pictures of smiling faces on the table:
loved ones he rarely sees anymore

they say one side of the skyscraper
has a view of gorgeous sunsets
seldom does he have time to eat
much less to enjoy crimson sky
kissing the horizon

every word measured by dollars
each effort no longer genuine—

somewhere along the way
he sold his soul to the devil

corner office looking out to the harbor
on spotless window a reflection stares back
of someone he barely recognizes


For #WhisperingNeds 116, ‘toads and/or work’.
Also inspired by the poem ‘Toads’ by Philip Larkin.

© annie scribes 2018
all rights reserved

winter sundays

Winter Sundays

Listen here.


For #WhisperingNeds 115, ‘winter sundays’.

© annie scribes 2018
all rights reserved

the coup

what have you followed
walking on this road
what makes you stay on course?

something that makes sense
in this insane world––
that yields the least loss

watch out for the one
coming from the left field:
the heart you thought you’d killed

one day soon it will lead
a bloody coup d’etat


For #WhisperingNeds 114, ‘organic leader’.

© annie scribes 2018
all rights reserved

tune anew

have you ever listened to the sun
as it descends
telling the moon to take it easy
with your heart at night

this time when he returns, the wind will
blow a brand new leaf your way:
a gift, teaching you to dance
yet again
to his melody

some lines you’ll recognize,
for you’ve memorized them
down to the letters

others you’ll hear for the first time
as you re-learn names of the notes
softly tiptoeing
on slowly blossoming pages—
space for a new song


Happy New Year, beautiful souls.

© annie scribes 2017
all rights reserved