Wednesday, November 9, 2011

Occupy (11/9/11)

acknowledge the reality
assert your power
peaceably assemble and make your voices heard

Friday, November 4, 2011

we may not sit together
in quiet conversation
I fear

Thursday, November 3, 2011

you come running to love
but meet a closed gate instead.
and yet,

you come running again --
all the world should learn
to love the way you do

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Into A Fall

you live in my lap
as I drive through the wind
and struggle to breathe

Monday, October 24, 2011

Monday, October 17, 2011

Welcome Home

for Gilad Shalit

deep in the night
we cannot rest
we wait for your crossing

from icy night
through the narrowest opening
to your own back door

where we prepare to wash your feet
and feed you
and find your lost song

lingering in the grass
and in the sunshine that rises
this glorious day

Thursday, July 21, 2011

found poem

Across
"And ___ bed"
Personification of desire

Thursday, July 14, 2011

life's daily mess
invites me to jump in
and get dirty

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

your name passes before my heart
bidden by the clouds
both illuminated and ominous

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

everyday sustenance allows you to bypass
expenses, lessons and stats
in favor of happy and excited and tired

Monday, June 27, 2011

mysterious gurgling to the left
patience to the right
you at the center

Friday, June 24, 2011

another attempt at cleanliness
side by side
we scrub

Thursday, June 23, 2011

instead of waiting to be fed
smell the grass or nap
in the delicious sun

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

your heart beats the skins
through the open door
I hear your beautiful cacophony

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

You Shall Further Instruct: Epigram

“An Epigram is a short, witty poem or saying that is easy to remember and is written to be remembered. …Epigrams have no particular form except their brevity (two, four or six lines) and their way of getting right to the point.”
-Handbook of Poetic Forms, 67



My Lord, I thank you for the honor
of anointing me and my sons
but we’d rather not smear warm blood
on our ears, toes and thumbs

Sent Away: Couplet

“The couplet is a couple, or pair, of lines of poetry, usually rhymed. Basically, by having two equal parts, the couplet is a simple and fundamental structure that reflects so many other basic structures in and around us, such as the human body’s two eyes, two ears, two hands, and so on, as well as our thought patterns of yes/no, up/down, and good/bad.”
-Handbook of Poetic Forms, 57,58



The Lord hurled the Pharoah into the sea
Both to gain glory and so I could be free

In thanks, I sing praises and work as I’m called.
True glory for God: joyful freedom for all
good news in the night
energizes and calms
like steaming green tea

Mild Dysplasia

Belly full of gratitude held tightly
to your chest, you will be brought, strapped to a board,
to an expectant place by an as yet unknown wind.
Toothless, you poke at my heart
every three hours in a dreamstate, your lips
pursed to kiss the cherubim that are an unshared secret;
I fancy myself a secret-sharer though I am, in truth,
simply a receptacle akin to a plastic bottle or a casket.
(You too will become a simple light bulb, abandoning
these days of neon waves without understanding. It is a fruit-bearing cycle.)
You live in a fortified moment
while I, joyfully, pump myself dry.

Renewing Poetry

This first true tear in a page
is my freedom to be more brutal and more liberal.
Bitter flow, foaming shouts, flowers on a darkening street.

The way words work between chubby fingers,
the work words do in the world,

words work on the world like lipstick,
chicken soup, nausea, and unexplained explosions,
often all at once.

I imagine myself dancing in black hot pants and boots,
wild and uninhibited. I also imagine myself as aloof
as everyone else. Somewhere in between is my song.

Time is a dwarf, a cut flower.
I will lose myself in the matching and choosing.

I will enter and be entered, and my face
will glow. Sweet smells will rise
from my fingers because it is no sin to uncover nakedness
before the beloved and I am here
to love you.

Monday, January 31, 2011

too tired to work late
too old to caffeinate
or else I'll sleep late

Thursday, January 20, 2011

in the balance of give and receive
the truest gift
is the balance

Haiku for Tucson

original whirl among dirt & dead
bullets fly from our mouths
as we debate whether bullets are deadly
another haiku lost
next time
pull over