26 Dec 2011


First they pierce your ears
burden your soft lobe with heavy jewels that hang
wrap chains around your neck
fit a band around your finger
then the final piercing
always to be filled
always to be completed
by a man 

12 Dec 2011


You went back to your pen so quickly
You didn’t shove the books off your desk in anger
You didn’t lose sleep
Or bang your fist on your blank papers in loss of words in absence of muse
You went on writing verse after verse, painted feeling after feeling
You were flooded with my gone-ess
While I, a shattered glass vase; lay redundant on your sill
My myriad pieces dumb; reflecting the rain falling on your window
Perplexing the clouds, I shimmer in the very little sunlight;
in hope I will someday feel.

7 Dec 2011


How is your beautiful heart?
I think of you on this dull grey morning
as I winter my coffee with sugar
and cream.

I think of you on this cold lonely evening
as I stir the thickening soup
sending you a thousand unspent

5 Dec 2011

Broken people

A blind moth trembles inside the lamp shade above my head,
its paper wings flap violently, desperate for an exit,
trapped in the illusion of light.
I am trapped in this cognitive skull
always looking through these two sockets for an alternative
I leave the light on because I haven’t finished looking
I can’t close my eyes because I haven’t finished looking
when my sadist past makes love to me, my feelings don’t belong to me
its breath hastens and with a final thrust it cups my breast and whispers
broken people are drawn to broken people my love.