Monday, July 09, 2007
Against a black, southern sky,
Silver stars peered down
Like peeping toms
As we did the wild thing
On a grass-stained blanket.
I learned about love
And life
And, later, much later,
The lies he spoke
To anyone who would listen.
Wednesday, September 13, 2006

The Beauty of It

We are one nation
Under God?
Little green space men from mars?
All of those and none
None of those and all
We are one people
Of many colors
Free to agree
To debate
Free to protest
To campaign
To hate
To have mercy
One nation
A Freedom Nation
And that’s the beauty of it.

© 2006 Dana Sieben
Monday, September 11, 2006

Patriots Day - September 11, 2006

"Patriot Day commemorates the attacks on the World Trade Center and Pentagon on September 11, 2001. The holiday was created by a joint resolution of the US House on October 25, 2001 and signed into lay by President George W. Bush on December 18,2001."

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

The Woods

We were lost in the woods, my sister and I,
Which was absurd.
We grew up next to those groves of pine,
And knew every trail and every tree.
Even the coal mine shafts
Long forgotten.
Over time we had found
Copper pipes
From moonshine stills long gone.
Antique green bottles and clear glasses
From a housewife’s table,
Words rubbed off.
Trails led to fantasy places;
Like Case Rock, two boulders
Deposited on the banks of the Warrior River,
A jungle gym for country children
To find and climb
And bask on in the heat of the day.
Forests of bamboo, the sandy ground
was our playground,
the river our teacher,
watching water moccasins fall
from the trees into the murky water
and swim away.
And now, I am thirty-seven
And I am lost in these woods,
No longer are they familiar to my sister and I.
Logging has robbed us of our knowledge,
Most of our southern pines,
Our trails.
We find our way home
By the memories we share
But while we are lost,
I inhale the smells and memories
Of the Alabama woods I love
And I am glad I am here.

© 2005 Dana Sieben
Thursday, August 24, 2006


In a green hollow, the river rushes
On its way down the mountain to the sea,
Over rocks and boulders water gushes
And with a gentle roar it welcomes me.

Crystal-clear pools beckon me to enter,
Up to my ankles my bare feet go numb.
Further out I go, to the cold center
Refreshed, I wait for whatever will come.

If I am quiet, I might see a deer
Come out of the woods to the water’s edge
Or a black bear and her cubs may appear
Out from behind a mountain laurel hedge.

The air is thick with a soft humid fog
Floating through the forest like a spirit
My chilled feet step onto a mossy log
And as I cross, I begin to hear it –

No cars, no airplanes, just river tinkling
And wind blowing in the forest so tall
I don’t even mind rain that is sprinkling
As I spy my first mountain waterfall.

© 2006 Dana Sieben
Wednesday, August 02, 2006


Nature's passion.
Swollen rivers
Running overindulged to the sea
Which grasps at the shore in a frenzy-
Floodwaters rise in the furor of the night.
The wind rages, flaunting its power,
Finally spending itself in
Early morning.
The world is gray...quiet.
The bay-
A nature-made mirror-
Reflects the fog, which hovers
Then merges with the low clouds
Before daringly drifting to the surface
Of the mirror and seeing itself.
Barely touching...
Softly meeting-
Like a tongue lingering on bare skin.

© Dana Sieben

* originally published in Long Story Short, June 2005
Saturday, July 29, 2006

The Three Little Pigs - Twisted Fairy Tale

Last August, I entered Long Story Short's Twisted Fairy Tale competition and actually won Honorable Mention! Yeah, I know. I was flabbergasted too. Anyway, here is the story in it's entirety. Enjoy.

The Three Little Pigs

Once upon a time, there were three little pigs. Well, they were little when they were born, but as they got older, they grew and grew, until their mother couldn’t afford to feed them any longer. The two oldest, Curly and Moe, were so lazy they just wanted to stay home. The youngest pig, George, yearned for the future, so he readily agreed to move out and start his life.

After landing a job at the local construction company, George bought a hillside hut near the ocean. It was not too safe considering news of a big, bad wolf prowling around the woods nearby, but George was saving his paychecks, buying bricks and wood, and building a new house in his spare time. Finally, his home was built. It was a brick two-story with gables and a sunroom. Mother Pig was so proud of George. She constantly bragged about him until Moe and Curly had had enough.

"Come on Curly, we can be as successful as The Runt. Why should he get a headstart on us anyway?"

"Yeah Dude! Let’s go!"

So off the two pigs went. In town, they landed jobs at the local Piggly Wiggly bagging groceries. Moe bought a log house in the woods. It was old and about to tumble down, but Moe didn’t care. It had a roof, a dirt floor and it was all his. Besides, he liked the rustic look. Curly’s house was on the beach a la’ Gilligan’s Island. He had a hammock, a sand floor and an ocean view.

One day George called his brothers and invited them over to see his new house. They watched NASCAR and drank beer, and when it was time to leave, George cautioned them about the wolf lurking nearby.

"Dude! Lay off! Moe and I can handle that wolf. Right Moe?" Well, Moe wasn’t as sure as Curly, but nodded anyway.

At the edge of the woods nearby, two wolves watched, one in anticipation, one with dread.

"Dad?" Fluffy Wolf asked.

Mr. Wolf turned his head slightly, never taking his eyes off the strolling pigs. "Yes, son?"

"Do I have to do this?"

"You know you do. All the Big Bad Wolves in our family have eaten pigs. Now it’s your turn."

Fluffy Wolf shuddered. He hated meat. In fact, he was a vegetarian, but he couldn’t tell his dad that. He’d flip for sure! How in the world was he going to attack and eat those pigs?

"Son, did you do your breathing exercises? You know if you are going to blow down those houses, you have to have optimum lung capacity."

"I know, Dad."

"Did you remember to stretch? How about we go through one last round of yoga? Get all limbered up. Let’s start with ‘down dog’."

"No Dad, I already did my yoga today, I did my breathing, so just let me get on with it." And off trotted a very nervous, nauseous Fluffy Wolf.

Inside his beach house, Curly was having a cocktail when he heard a snuffling sound followed by a cough. His hairy pig ears perked up as he heard, "Hey Little Pig! Uhhh, can I come in?"
Curly stumbled over to the peephole and spied a scrawny-looking wolf.

"Not by the wax on my surfboard! Go away, furry man!"

Fluffy stiffened. "I’ll have you know that I can blow this house down with one breath!"

"Dude! You just go on and try," Curly laughed and swallowed his drink.

Outside, Fluffy was so upset that he started having an asthma attack. He leaned against the house and took out his inhaler, but his weight caused the house to tumble down onto the beach.
A very tipsy Curly screamed, thinking he was being attacked. He crawled out from under the debris and ran off towards Moe’s house. Finally, gaining his brothers home, Curly ran inside and began to explain what had happened to an amused Moe who was sitting at his table eating pork-and-beans for dinner.

"Whoa! What are you talking about?" he said between chews.

"The Big Bad Wolf is after me. He’ll be here soon. We have to hide!"

Meanwhile, Fluffy’s cell phone was ringing.

"Hello, Dad. Yes, I know he got away. I’m sorry!" (Dad’s voice loudly emerging from phone)

"OK, OK. I’m going."

And off he went, dragging his tail and gagging at the thought of eating the pigs. I’m going to have to move to California, he thought. Out there, a wolf can be a vegetarian without fear of ridicule.
Once he got to Moe’s log home, Fluffy cleared his throat and picked up his megaphone, hoping it would make his voice a little stronger.

"Little pigs? Hey little pigs! You better let me in now!"

"No way, Jose!" Moe yelled.

Inside, Moe and Curly were frozen with fear. They didn’t know that outside, Fluffy was setting up a giant wind-maker that his dad had gotten from ACME Film Studios and was turning it on to full-blast. The resulting winds blew Moe’s log home to bits. The two pigs scrambled out from under the debris and high-tailed it up to the hill to where George lived.

"Dang!" Fluffy exclaimed. "Those pigs are fast!"

George opened his door to let his brothers in. After hearing what was going on, he went outside to see a forlorn Fluffy trudging up to the house.

"Fluffy is that you?" he asked.


"Why are you chasing my brothers?"


"Ahhhh!" George understood. Fluffy and he were friends and he knew about Mr. Wolf’s expectations. "Come on in, Fluff, and I’ll tell you what we’ll do."

Later that night, they all sat around George’s fireplace and celebrated. George had sent a note to Fluffy’s dad telling him that Fluffy had joined the Marines. Mr. Wolf retired to his vacation den in sorrow. As for Fluffy? He was liberated and had a one-way ticket to Los Angeles.

© 2005 Dana Sieben

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