Face

my face is riverstonethe bedrock smooth and sculptedby eons of rushing waterand the dry season’s wind ruts and valleys channeled inby the laughter of a babbling brook,pebbles deposited under the eyeswhose stillness are the poolsnear the banks, where moss andalgae rest, green, sometimes blue,with flecks of visiting dragonfly the long line of my nose istheContinue reading “Face”

Me Time | A Mother’s Limerick

Reading in bed, what delight!Yet this “me” time is never quite rightFor as soon as I layI’m so pooped from the dayIt’s as if someone snuffed out the light. The grammar stickler in me worries that the use of “lay” is improper; I’ve left it, however, because of the rhyme. Where are my fellow mamasContinue reading “Me Time | A Mother’s Limerick”

Song

Dance to your own drum, sing in your own key I sing the song of America, my country, sweet landthe clay from which I was madewhere my ancestors sailed before there was an island to receive themand again, later, leaving their names upon the island’s wallBelievers, all of themin the promise of freedom and rebirthwithContinue reading “Song”

Titles | Self Imposed Definitions

I am the Queenof being wrongThe Princessof lossAn Expertat shelving my dreamsI wrote a thesison the disappointment that comes from the misplaced hopethat people will change for the betterI have conqueredthe fact that standing up for myself or othersalways gets me punched back downI’m an Absolute Proat failureMy confidence is excellentat being swiftly annihilatedI amContinue reading “Titles | Self Imposed Definitions”

Personal Geology

Some daysI amstrong, firma mountain risingfrom the rich strata of my yearsThere is no pastNo abandoned bedrockNo memoryOnly now Other daysthe mighty hammer fallsbreakingoff a cliffexposing evidenceof suffering’s transgressionsedimentshiddenbeneaththat would be ripefor erosionif I would let them surface Concealedmy mantle boilsawaiting metamorphosis:time, press the layers togethertransform thembond themwith the fingerprint of gloryshining at my coreContinue reading “Personal Geology”

Shadow

my shadow is tallshe can reach all the glasseson the top shelf she fills them to the brimwith strong cocktailsbecause alcohol doesn’tbother her stomach,and neither does anyquantity or combination of food she drives fastand says “f*ck it”more than I do, becausethat field of hers really is barrenand she lords over ita lanky scarecrow inbright redContinue reading “Shadow”