Tag Archives: poetry
Rebirth in the Heat
The heat wave is impending Surely, inevitably, I suppose It’s exhausting, the thought of it, Its dominion Its sway The Sun, though, is the real culprit Beautiful and dread, its rays Filling me with Life Love Longing Promise and possibility … Continue reading
Sweet Dreams of Ice Cream Scoops and You
When sweet dreams of ice cream scoops Slide from sentimental to erotic and My feelings glide and ripple back through time and space To you, a you I never really knew But for a shimmer of a connection A persistence … Continue reading
Balloons and Paper Tigers
Balloons and paper tigers imprison me They chain me with my Fears and failures and tenuous future To a life of anxiety and paralysis The growling paper tiger claws at the Balloon wall I’ve built around me The awful noise … Continue reading
My Focus is My Own
My voice falters Physically, mentally, emotionally My vocal chords tremble, atrophied from disuse My mind’s signals are weak Split into too many isolated threads Each easily snapped, discarded and discontinued Bombarded and sliced and shredded By a society that insists … Continue reading
Bringing the Matadors Together
I need a naked matador to battle my inner demons Not a rodeo clown to distract the menacing hordes Not a huntsman to track and shoot the raging beasts Not a hypnotist to soothe and calm the crying monsters My … Continue reading
The Buckling
The Buckling comes in waves. That clinch or flinch or collapsing in that happens. It looks physical but it feels more like a shuddering Of that inner sanctum you can’t seem to control. That quick expulsion of breath. The reaching … Continue reading
A Vision Puddled in Time
I saw you in a mud puddle the other day. A portal it parted to the yesterday of yesterdays. You and a boat I see floating on the puddle, curiously like a dry twig Drifting and leaving a wake In … Continue reading
Mirror Me Not
I looked into the mirror and saw you. You are not me. I have not become my friend. I have not become my enemy. I have certainly not become you, Whoever you are. This is not Dorian Gray’s mirror. I … Continue reading
Musings on Boiling Broth
The broth inches toward a boil. Tendrils of liquid fat swirl around, Sharks in a whirlpooling frenzy. Circling, Diving, Reappearing. A watched pot never boils. But I don’t care if it roils. I’m watching the motion. Watching the self-organization. Its … Continue reading
The Devil is in the Ice Cream
Despite the chill in the air Silky, smooth rivulets of cream Slide between my fingers that Clutch the sugar cone. My palm feels the ticklish, sticky Drip, drip onto my shirt, my shoes The unappreciative cold sidewalk. My eyes moisten … Continue reading
Fortress of Dissolitude 