Loves- older, newer-
convene,
form a cohort,
whisper conjectures to name her love.
Love is ever Strong,
eight months hardly Quick,
and the greatest myth
is that love cannot come again.
Loves come closer, with
Ardent, Intense.
Yet, still they puzzle
on their multitude.
Tag: Shame
Child of the Open Air
Grabbing my toes,
I pull my butt out from beneath me,
flip me upside down,
and shake.
I plop her back on her butt and smack
her back and wait
and wait and wait
for her to burp, spit or vomit,
or to drop from any pocket
What a Poem Means
A world demanding meaning alternates between cynicism and starry eyes.
See, all a detail must do
is matter to be written down.
And all a detail must do to mean
is to occur,
Grandmother’s Beach Body
Confidence lies in the eyes of the matron,
sufficiently down to earth to know
the grounds on which her legs
hold her up.
By the shore, her giving smile
shines like a lighthouse,
lets the drowning know that unlikeRead More »
the girl that fell (A 36th Ave. Poem)
The fists that hit,
cuffed.
The feet that kicked,
chained.
The girl that fell,Read More »
Child Of Sand
Lurching waves launch up to reach
the power across jagged edges shot,
ricocheting down to kiss,
to ultimately betray.Read More »
A limitation of counseling/The good poem I wrote after writing a bad one
Poetry they said to be the best
words in the best
order, but some of my best words in their best
order are too efficient. Some of my ideas mustn’t be shown
but declared.
Some of my expressions weren’t
made for an audience.
Some of my wounds can only be healed
in relationship.
Taboo Diagnoses
I do not know what it is they do not wish to make me feel-
Awkward? Embarrassed?
Sad, perhaps. And
too
tired.
But I am only sick of some of the alien mental fodder.
Do you know the paths well enough
to see an entrance to a cave
in which I am alone?
And are you brave enough to bearRead More »
Alphabet Ravine 