Posted by: Juliann Budimir | October 8, 2018


The thorns gently graze us as we pass and leave their mark upon our memory as we seek to savor the dreams of brighter days.

Photo and words by Juliann Budimir, October 8, 2018.  All rights reserved.



Posted by: Juliann Budimir | October 4, 2018


Who do we want to be from sea to shining sea?
We’re red, we’re blue, we’re a country cut in two
Why can’t red and blue be colors like orange, yellow, and green
With shades and variations, uniqueness in between
Together we’re a rainbow where prismatic dreams delight
Let’s all recall the glory when our flag made us unite

Juliann Budimir, October 4, 2018.  All rights reserved.
Photo by Juliann Budimir

With a patriotic nod to “America the Beautiful,” lyrics by Katherine Lee Bates


Posted by: Juliann Budimir | October 3, 2018

Royal Flush

It was an exciting and exquisite night, and one I cannot resist sharing again.

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It’s been almost a year since my date with Frank Sinatra.  He has dazzled me with every luscious note, every wicked innuendo, that when the night finally came, I was breathless for more.  All day, my body was aquiver with anticipation.  After so many years, this was a momentous occasion.  It was a comfortably crisp California night, and my glamorous white faux fur was the perfect counterpoint to my black mini skirt and matching lace top.

He chose the lobby bar of a boutique hotel for our rendez-vous, and I soon learned why.  Read More…

Posted by: Juliann Budimir | September 24, 2018


We avert our gaze from the grizzled face of lies and seek the delicate dream of bygone days.  Together we ride like syncopated twins on a carousel up and down on waves of delight as we giggle in the bliss of youth untouched by time.


Juliann Budimir, September 24, 2018.  All rights reserved.

Photo by Juliann Budimir


Posted by: Juliann Budimir | September 17, 2018

Summer & Sea

For more writing, poetry, and photography, please follow me on Twitter @JuliannBudimir 




Posted by: Juliann Budimir | September 12, 2018


It was only three months, but it could have been a lifetime.  A lifetime of tangerine skies and lazy afternoons filled with the dolce far-niente of an island-colored dream.


The sunrays from a burning star alight
Illuminate the shadows with the light
Of countless summer dreams and lovers’ sighs
We kiss the dawn and sweetly say goodbye


Goodbye to wistful strains of May and June
Caressing blooms and cries of lonely loons
Sent windward to their mates at every hour
A comfort to the bees and fruitful flower


A sudden flush brings riches to July
When sun ascends its prominence on high
And sparkling wine we share in countless sips
With ripened peach brought tenderly to lips


We drink to poet laureates of yore
And hope to toast our bliss forevermore
While knowing that the frailty of hours
Too often leads to love that surely sours


A bold and august joy seems ours alone
As steadily a sea breeze guides us home
And lovingly the truth is in your eyes
The mist has parted from your clouds of lies


The softly fading flower is last to know
Like overripened fruit is sure to go
That lovers suffer fates as true as time
We blink and gone are days when you were mine


Juliann Budimir, September 12, 2018.  All rights reserved. 

Photo by Juliann Budimir

Posted by: Juliann Budimir | August 20, 2018



The outstretched arms envelope me in dreams,

Weaving memories in streams

Where idle afternoons wind wistfully to night

And shade me from the light

Of a thousand weeping moons


Upon the blades of grass I finally see

Elusive natural beauty tenderly

The branches like your arms are smooth and strong

Yet reach for greater truths that can’t be wronged.


A sprig, a bud, a blossom of delight

So soon to spring yet mellowed by the light

When summer’s heat exhausts the fragrant flower

And twists the bloom in lifetime’s lonely hour.


The murmuring I hear comes from afar

Descending on a violent shooting star

With wind that rustles melancholy trees

He twists and crumbles helplessly then leaves.


Juliann Budimir, August 20, 2018.  All rights reserved. 

Posted by: Juliann Budimir | July 19, 2018

My Jackie

My writers’ group created a “Doggy Diary” challenge to write no more than four paragraphs from a dog’s point-of-view.  I wrote what I would later call, “My Jackie,” on the spot.

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I could tell it was going to be a good day as the soil hung damp and peaty in the air and the breeze blew in softly from the west.  That’s where the sea was, and on a good day, my Jackie would take me for a walk and unhook my collar on a long stretch of beach at the base of the cliffs.  I loved Jackie more than anything except for those afternoons on the beach.  I think I loved them more because I was free!  Free to run with the damp, solid sand underfoot, free to run at my own speed without fear of being out-of-sync with a human’s gait, free to believe that for one small stretch of time I was my own being unencumbered or controlled by anyone else.  I was a fleeting fur rocket catching the ocean spray with my teeth and savoring the glint of the crest of the wave instead of the flash of the camera in my eye.

The sand stretched out far, far to the north as my gallop became a prance and I danced in the afternoon sun slower than before.  There were other dogs enjoying similar sprints of their own merriment, but there was mutual disinterest in our spheres.  I turned around from where I came and I struggled to see my Jackie.  Where could she be?  Her hair always waved in the wind like my ears and could easily be seen.  But for the moment she was nowhere to be found.

I tend to panic not more than once a day, or so I’ve been told.  Usually, it’s when I’m alone and Jackie or her friends come back to find me out-of-sorts.  They say I shiver a little, but I do not know what that means. 

Do dogs get goosebumps?  I think I got them as the wind picked up and clocked around from the north over the sea.  There were boats large and small farther out, and I wondered if there were any dogs aboard or if they were told they were safer at home and well in the lee.  As I stared off, mesmerized by the chop-chop of the water and the undulating boats, I could feel a steady smursh-smursh coming my way as building vibrations through the sand.  I looked up and saw Jackie, my Jackie walking towards me!  She smiled that broad, friendly smile that no other human had, and I bounced up from my spot on the sand and bounded her way.  Dear, Jackie, thank you for bringing me here, for my moments of freedom, but most of all for your love.  I never want to be away from you for a minute longer than I can fathom.  May you always bring me home and hold me in your arms.


Juliann Budimir, July 2018.  All rights reserved. 

Photo:  Juliann Budimir

Posted by: Juliann Budimir | June 8, 2018


Tony Bourdain was one of my guys.  I discovered him with his book, “Kitchen Confidential,” and his first show on TV.  He was visceral in his language, his look, his adventure, and I could not look away.  There was an arresting sexiness about him and sense of excitement as if you were caught with the bad boy who let you travel vicariously around the world.  I dedicate my poem, “Longing,” to him.

Photo by Juliann Budimir


via Longing

Posted by: Juliann Budimir | May 24, 2018

After hours

It hardly ever rains, except it did that night

Hot and mushy like a lovers’ fight

The damp coming through the window on the driver’s side.



Juliann Budimir, April 27, 2018.  All rights reserved.

Photo:  Juliann Budimir

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