Category Archives: Poetry

Grow

I want to be... A flower
I want to plant my roots
Deep inside the muddy earth
I want to stretch my leaves 
High above the azure sky
I want my petals to sing
With the birdsong drifting
On the morning air

To stand with my stem
Waving
Free

Paper

This is a house with butterfly wings

Kept in clear plastic baggies

Covered in layers of dust

They lay unattached
solitary
grotesque

Waiting to be discovered   by someone
like me


Love Letter

This one
Is for You
my love.

You make my heart beat
You cause my lungs to inhale
and exhale.

You formed me from nothingness.

You decided to make me a lost child –
lonely, torn,
worse than fatherless.

You kept me safe.

I remember finding You,
I remember the first time I read Your words

I had just been admitted to hospital
a mental hospital
And my tears could have brought forth rivers within days,
You heard my cries,
and answered my wordless prayers.

You were with me.
You’re always with me.


Untitled

This soul was vapid.
A product of loveless lovemaking,
The girl child spent youth watching her mother
Take care of other people.
Enable other people.

Having been put on the back-burner
to simmer on low,
She began to raise herself.
Growing inward – shy, quiet
a b o o k w o r m
A nerd with one friend who was also a nerd.
Heroin needles under the sofa.
Raging drunk beating down the front door.

This was normal,
everyone grew up like this.

And then….something…..
No longer a shy quiet bookworm –
A simmering pot
if forgotten long enough
will eventually begin
to bubble
and burn.

Now filled with armor,
an armor of rage
of sarcasm
of “I’m fat but I’m funny.”
She spent her teen years in this state.

An unnatural ebb and flow of weight,
drugs
goals
Brought her into her twenties.

Then…
A marriage.
A daughter.
A reason to find God.

Heavy with love.


Wasted Youth

Too many years
Way – WAY too many years
spent wandering
Bumping through
Scraping by

A public education
Trying to find myself
in city kids

Too white for one
Too black for another
Not Polish enough
Not Puerto Rican at all
And much too tall to be a Mexican

A private education
Learning to hate myself
in daddy’s eyes

Too smart for him
Too drunk to love
Not dedicated enough
Not motivated at all
And way too proud to take such shit.

Too many years.

30 years

And I still don’t know


My Hyperthyroidic Lover

There were nothing but bones left
In my bed
And the whisper of love

A sticky sweet remembrance
Of our brief time together

I rolled over to smell your pillow
Quickly turning cold
Your scent fading
As my heartbeats slowed
And passion gave way to melancholy

I heard you pull out your guitar
Could feel the nervous plucking

I wished for a cigarette

We each have our own way

Of detaching