When I first saw him 

arms, especially the right one, nearly reaching his knees

long lashed large eyes gazing low in humility 

he seemed from a different time

Flannel uniform draped over gangly frame 

cap pushed back, a pleasant smile 

comfortable as a well-worn shoe for an 11-year-old boy 

a fit like a lifelong friend

Aromas of spit tobacco, green grass, dirt and sweat 

hung in the dugout air

as he ambled over slowly 

cleats crunching split sunflower shells 


I remember our days on marble, O what soulful union,
When we crept on naked soles, minds slippery and fragile,
Little frames of life growing solid, rising from nothing,
To be groomed by lessons we never remembered to forget.

I remember our days of beginning, hands held in promises,
Assuming all will be golden, in castles and earthly heavens,
How we dined on pony houses, feeding our fairies with flying wings,
And we loved because every other feeling was foreign.

To sexualise my soul
Cast of me a Meratrix

Future poets redeem
Me I’ll know my pleasures
Now in the realm
You’ve created
Of precious metal
And precious stone

As if it were divine
As my beauty forged
Flesh

The patterns of my
Breathing echoes
The plaintive cries
Of Andromache
And Helen twenty years
A slave

Most feared of all gods
Venus lead me home
Gaze into my husband’s
Eyes

An honest soul,
That's so true.
With loving kindness,
Running through.

A caring heart,
So hard to find.
All wrapped in comfort,
Sweet and kind.

With searching thoughts,
That will not lie,
Seeking the moonlight,
In midnight sky.

And as the sun,
Rises up once more.
It warms my soul,
Through to its core.

at approximately
a painfully early o'clock in the morning
give or take an o'clock
found yours truly (me) amassing
line after line of a poem
crazily coalescing courtesy
an extraordinary unfamiliar phenomena
while living social within alien nation,
said mental and physical explosion
vis a vis fast flexing
handy dandy appendages
creating satisfactory verse in their wake
materialized into an unexpected
pièce de résistance,
which brilliant tour de force
quickly set the keyboard a smokin hot

at approximately
a painfully early o'clock in the morning
give or take an o'clock
found yours truly (me) amassing
line after line of a poem
crazily coalescing courtesy
an extraordinary unfamiliar phenomena
while living social within alien nation,
said mental and physical explosion
vis a vis fast flexing
handy dandy appendages
creating satisfactory verse in their wake
materialized into an unexpected
pièce de résistance,
which brilliant tour de force
quickly set the keyboard a smokin hot

Seated upon the electric
wires are the birds who
cause the gentle breezes
to whisper near our ears.

The birds flee, though,
when the caller of the
great winds batter our
ears and eyes and lives.

It's not a bad word
or even a sad one.
It expresses
what happens
when you
accept
the now.
When you give in
to the simple flow
of the moment.

The discoveries
you make
are never ending
and overflowing.
The surprising responses
to opening up
to the new
to the adventurous
all good.

So you see
I have learned
to give in
to the moment,
to the now.

I accept it
with good grace
and complete
appreciation.

So many eyes are looking at me,
all the judgement, the good and the bad.
Waiting for all this to disappear into the abyss.
But nothing is worse than my own eyes,
seeing all the anger dancing around the happiness,
twirling through the sorrow, teasing the hunger.

Sometimes, it feels good, to feel the anger
all through the waves of eyes, and the wind of ears.
I'm tired of these eyes crashing into my vision.
Tired of my ears stealing my breath.
I can only feel this way so long.

But my heart is craving silence

It's loved too much

Respite
Respite
Respite

Make the noise stop