Charlie lived, and now he's gone
I can't quite process how this came to come.
And nowhere can find an obituary,
no memorium, nor celebration of life
For a man with such a generous heart.
At 44, he was gone.
Did he die because his heart was too big?
Charlie was there with listening ear
Always eager to give.
A sweaty hug,
his last cigarette,
the shirt off his back.
Love embodied, as a person.
As a regular in a dimly lit gay bar.
Sharing stories.
Welcoming newcomers.
Charlie was my good friend.
I want nothing more, than to hug him again.
I think about him every day.
Thank you. Charlie.
Dec 2, 2025
Dec 2, 2025 at 3:02 PM UTC
The land from where my family came
Is holy, sad, and joyful all at once.
A farm passed down for more than a century.
Where my mother, aunt and uncle grew,
Under watchful eye, and breast, and liquor bottle.
Where tears met handwritten letters.
Where God met death from depression.
Where orchards died, and were planted anew.
Sacred, beautiful place.
Nov 23, 2025
Nov 23, 2025 at 8:15 PM UTC
14 years since I last wrote
What happened to the soul of the girl
Unafraid
Baring her soul for all to see?
She grew into a woman
A warrior
A force with which to be reckoned
Bending and overextending
Until she'd had enough
And yet she yearns for the girl
The one with a smorgasbord of opportunity
Of possibility
Her language spewed carelessly, but with beauty still
As she embraced the world before her
Who is this woman now?
Peering into the past with both interest and fear
Gathering moments like bits of clay
In the hopes
Of forming them into something new
She is me
She has survived
A failed marriage
An awakening
A deconstruction
The loss of two souls from her womb
The sick reality of her country
As it marches toward fascism
But she stands, still
to give, to receive
But this time--
With limits.
Nov 15, 2025
Nov 15, 2025 at 11:49 PM UTC
There was a special little part of me
It slipped away on Saturday
The pretty bird let out a cry and flew
It wasn’t forced, It wasn’t sure
But curious and soft, demure,
I gave that little part of me to you.
I cannot count the times I tried
To make her stay, I cannot lie
A white lace gown would surely be ideal
But in your eyes I get so lost
I changed my mind; I paid the cost
You see, it’s just the way you make me feel
I hope you keep my little bird
Close to your heart—a silent word,
A gift, that you will treasure all your days
She cares about you; hear her sing!
And you, you are my everything,
I hope that I will be with you always.
Sep 6, 2011
Sep 6, 2011 at 1:44 PM UTC
Ashes, Ashes, we all fall down
The children cry
Down their sorrows and tribulations
To a hankering disposal
With ceaseless churning and grinding
The heavy bruised weights
Under eyes drag the soul downwards
Until drifting into another world
The peaceful dark place in which
The inner ear has no control over balance.
Be still my arms, my chest, my throat—
Let not heavy eyes grow blue and sore
Let me sleep, just sleep, just sleep…
Sep 6, 2011
Sep 6, 2011 at 1:20 PM UTC
Reaches of my smile
Rocking like a fishing boat
Trying not to laugh.
Sep 5, 2011
Sep 5, 2011 at 2:21 PM UTC
My mother’s eyes still redden
Like a hurt child
Too tough to open and cry
His hands were too pink
His veins were too blue
His temper was too short
My mother has a shell
And she loves it,
Hides her, hides her.
His heart could not sing,
His father had set
Him in his ways.
My mother hade tried
She reached for his hand
Itching for three.
His love for his Savior
His falling from it
His deep silent cage
My mother is quiet
About what has been
She’s left it behind.
His crawling through the door
His overtaking disease
His saggy lipped drawl
My mother’s hands are warm,
Never repeating the past.
Tending child and garden.
He sits there the same
A dull man consumed
Waiting to die.
My mother paints a smile.
She wears it always
Skirting around the topic.
Sep 5, 2011
Sep 5, 2011 at 2:18 PM UTC
I am eyeing the place upward between the bees and the ground--
I hear buzzing. I hear hushing.
I am drinking the potion of greatness from dolls surrounding
In a dollhouse. On the stage.
I am a puppet of plot and character and episode
The sky. Is the limit.
I am moving each muscle in the magic flow
Of energy. Of the theatre.
I am speaking words that fly up high
To the heart. To the people.
A bird on God’s stage.
Sep 5, 2011
Sep 5, 2011 at 2:15 PM UTC
Sift down to the gritty, shaking hands rock to and fro like a Ferris wheel car
Struggling each sinking stone to shush, to mute entirely, to caress each knuckle
To reassure—or at least calm the twisting worm on the dry sun caked pavement.
I listen to each breath in my ear, a mirror to things past, a gentle sloshing of misfortunes
Round and round the acid wall where the memories paint my smile
One pin ***** could spew cannibal poison in my cavity and eat me from the inside out.
The veiled things pushed to the back of the top shelf sink their dull talons downward
The pain was sharp once—the wound fresh and inexperienced, weeping non stop,
But now it is dull…sore like the dark morning in winter. A boarded up cabinet.
Yet always in my vision, always, always—a grey murmur, subtle yet driving me,
The vigil, to pry my lids open. To feel the sting of air gnawing at moisture—
To place black lilies on the casket of our love, and never ever look away.
Sep 5, 2011
Sep 5, 2011 at 2:12 PM UTC
I thought I was merely plucking fluff
From feather stuffed pillows
Now my heart pounds
And longs to ring a new bell
Strange, unnerving, and all too wonderful
Was there an open door there—?
There on your fingertips?
Is there milk maid anywhere to finish her churning job?
So butter can be made.
Maid made. Makes me no longer maid.
Pushes me into the ever black forest
Of your eyes.
I wear a sweatshirt
So you can’t see how bright
My heartstrings are shining
So you can’t figure me out—
It just wouldn’t be fair, considering I am not sure
Of myself, myself.
Sinking in warmth through the crystal night
Just yesterday I wouldn’t have given this a thought
And now here we are-- together—maybe?
My only greatest hope
Is that the door on the tip of your finger
Is not revolving.
Sep 5, 2011
Sep 5, 2011 at 2:11 PM UTC