This is not a poem. It
is not beautiful; it
does not sing.
This is a scream.
Where have all the children gone?
They were lost–
Somewhere between DC and CA
we lost our way
and lost our kids.
Instead, we are left with a paltry few
hollow-eyed strangers who
fear both the dark and the light.
we revoked their rights
to be innocent, to live,
instead of a playground we give them
(if we even allow them to escape the womb)
And we’ll keep trading
their noise and their smells and their laughter and tears
for a porcelain fantasy
and our comfortable fears.
Breathe in. Continue reading “Grounding”
Destroy my fear: lay bare and cleanse these veins,
Too long entangled in the shrieking haze
of Terror; soften the frantic refrains
and give me songs to quiet anxious days.
Continue reading “A Sonnet from Despair”
It’s the little things that break your heart–
Apple pie never eaten
in a house with one too many chairs.
A leftover sock in the wash–
never to rejoin its mate.
And perhaps you think it odd
that I stand here weeping
over a hairbrush filled
with fine straight golden strands–
(for my hair is dark
and tight with curls)–
but it only takes a heartbeat
to shatter a world.
A trillion crystals coalesce–
unnoticed midst abundance– Continue reading “Cleansing”