Category: Poetry

social media

once upon a time
radicals of code
vowed to remove the censors
so the
people of the world
could engage
in dialogue

how did our opensourced dreams
become a landscape of megaphones?

we are screaming past one another, pushing
all fighting to be
kings of the soapbox mountain

the River

[image title=”theriver” size=”full” id=”776″ align=”none” ]

sticks and poems

yes, write my name in crayon
make green origami songbirds
so I can fly around in your world

count by crescent moons
add up questions on your fingers
sorting answers out of stories

I spread my fears on the floor like scrabble tiles
I am no mans mirage

I will let you look.
I will let you know.
I will answer
except when I won’t.

friday apparition

You spread me like a butterfly
held down, pinned
pressing soft relentless circles
as I push against your name
hard, like an emerald knife
until the earth spins me
to my knees.

You cannot tame a dream
or stalk a spell
it would leave you thirsty
for the raw words of love.
I am a plural woman,
and you only think you left.

I will let you believe you are more private than I.


my self portrait would be drawn in salt water
you would be the only one who could see me
tears and sweat and shells, black pearls
and sharp green glass
from the shipwrecks
of men with nets

yours would be a mountain river
cutting through canyons
blinding explorers with white,
sharp stones,
promises in the mist
dangerous, beautiful
and hidden