About Me

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Poet, singer/songwriter, lover, mother.
I’m intrigued by the creative process
especially lyrical poetry and erotica
but I suck at keeping track of what I’ve written.
Hobbies are swimming, learning foreign languages
and pissing off the radical right.
Love other people regardless of plumbing
or national origin.
I travel often between Sicily and Lesbos.
Don’t have a website but learning to tweet.


This is a profile poem describing one of the most famous classical poets from ancient Greece, after a prompt from Poetic Asides. Wonder if Sappho were here today, we might see something like this on her blog?

More Things I Know About Poets

Nobody is just a poet
even the really good poets
who are just poets.

Poets who favor the first person can be narcissistic.
Poets who write in the third person may have multiple personalities.
Sooner or later, everyone gets mental whether they write poems or not.

Poets who are parents of infants sound optimistic.
Poets with teenagers learn to stop making declarative statements.
Poets who get caught with teenagers are degenerate bastards.

Girl poets have better tattoos in better places.
Some guy poets have colorful tattoos
but only from a distance.

Never show someone your poems
on the first date.
Poets who proclaim their love
using only poetry are spineless.
Never tell your girlfriend’s parents
that you’re a poet, it sounds too much
like a shoe-maker or a barrel-maker.

Poets who break up with someone
using poems are pathetic.
Partners of poets who break up
because of their poems are literary critics.

Villanelles are beautiful but technically hard.
Assonance is illegal is some southern states,
but it’s fairly common in Europe and
readily available in Amsterdam.

Some rock lyrics are poetry, but
some rock lyrics are poetic crap.
Jazz and poetry are soulmates joined at the genitals.

Many poets used to drink Absynthe
but it got expensive and rare.
Now it’s making a comeback.
Some poets are blessedly sober
and for many, we like them better that way.

Anyone can be a poet.
Not everyone can be a poet.

~ J. D. Mackenzie

(inspired by Jill Crammond Wickham's NaPoWriMo prompt for Day 25, Scraps)

Channeling Dylan Thomas

There’s nothing here to keep me
No reason left to stay
I am running from a nightmare
I have longed to move away

There’s an island I am drawn to
I feel the pull from here
It’s time I got to Cambria
And set aside my fear

I am moving over water
I am feeling all alone
Now I’m channeling Dylan Thomas
I’m five thousand miles from home

Like an Armada survivor
Knocked by nature to my knees
I am washed up here defeated
Sprouted from the rolling seas

I’m walking round a village
Where my Granddad spent the night
Now I’m channeling Dylan Thomas
And there’s not a pub in sight

Beware the man who understands
There’s nothing left in store
Where death has no dominion
We’re vulnerable no more

I am pacing through a castle
Where my ancestors would fight
Now I’m channeling Dylan Thomas
Say a prayer for me tonight

So long as I have passions
And this worn hand still can write
I’ll be channeling Dylan Thomas
Say a prayer for me tonight

~ J. D. Mackenzie

(inspired by Dale's NaPoWriMo prompt #15 Carrying a Tune. Credit is given to original clauses borrowed from Dylan Thomas without his permission, shown here in italics)

Shapeshifter

Sometimes she’s so innocent
I can’t believe we’re in the same bed.
When she opens her mouth
out comes this sweet kid from the fifties
all virginal and optimism.
The soundtrack is swell
and the crickets are chirping.
I wonder wonder wonder:
how did I ever find her
and what is she doing with me?

Other times she’s a demanding dominatrix
forcing me to do degrading things
I never learned in Sunday School.
I’m her bottom and she’s my top.
She makes me beg for it.
It's shameful.
None of the safe words work.

Then she does this Oprah thing
putting me in a chair
and asking great questions.
She’s really good
at getting me to open up.
Before long we’re like this.
When we’re done taping
I’ve just told the world my whole life.

There are times
when she’s a high octane cocktail
one part each of Janis Joplin
River Phoenix and Heath Ledger.
There is no high like the high
when I unwrap her.
The first one was free but
all of it since then has cost me a lot.

Did I mention the priest thing?
I know only men are priests but
she hears my confessions.
At first they were tame
then I grew to like the penance
and had to go for more.
Afterwards, she forces me to serve her
and she knows she won’t get caught.

Leave?
Never.
I’m her bitch now.

~ J. D. Mackenzie



(Inspired by napowrimo prompt #5 making poetry really personal by giving it a name)