Silence shrieks within my mind,
sorrow snickers with glee.
I navigate by a starless night,
the signs I see aren’t right.
To change yesterday I must learn from tomorrow.
I Look Toward the Wondrous Night Sky
I look toward the wondrous night sky
and imagine what lies beyond.
Perhaps I’m not as far away as they say
maybe there’s no “there” there, after all.
Something outside hides the way,
prevents me from hearing the call…
I look toward the wondrous night sky
and imagine what lies beyond.
Hope is a baby crying for candy
while suckling on mother’s breast -
nothing more.
Fear and love war in my soul,
there is no victor,
but the battle takes a dreadful toll…
I look toward the wondrous night sky
and imagine what lies beyond.
Like an ant in a skyscraper’s basement
my perception is dim,
nothing more than a whim.
Faces pass in the crowd,
I smile, move on.
Onward, never resting, till journey’s end;
and friendless on that last day,
I die alone.
La nuit dernière
Cold, dead eyes stare back at me
through the cheap, smoky mirror.
Predator or victim?
A little more mascara,
another dose of Candy Apple.
Squint, blink, pucker, pout…
Good to go.
Oh, but, no;
the incessant base thump-thump-thumping
outside the bathroom door,
the goofy stares at my boobs -
like they’re some kind of hypnotic Sudoku puzzle;
I’m sure my butt’s bruised purple
from all the usual pinching and slapping.
A couple of hours ago Neicey and I thought this was a good idea.
Now, my toes are clenched in these pumps
and my head is lost in a cloud,
half high, half ache.
Yet all the while a pleasant warmth rises inside me…
The door opens, I quickly turn.
It’s Neicey.
Our eyes meet in a way they’ve never met before.
Neath the Gray Gull’s Wings
The irascible sea
slaps the shore’s indignant face
far and hard, harder still
till cliffs become sand
and white foam falls dizzyingly
into the distance.
For Christina
Nine good years bookended by tragedy…
A brown-eyed face of hope
suddenly taken away
leaving a hole like Ground Zero in our soul.
Speak not of political ideologies
nor proud partisan remedies
while our tears still be wet,
rather remember her legacy now.
Yes, now and till the winds of time run out of breath!
Henceforth, let us not lash out in anger
but rather reach out in kindness.
