An apple a day,
Keep the doctors away,
A poem a day,
Get my thoughts somewhere.

i blow the smoke out

along with my worries for the night

i feel my eyes get heavy

i feel my body getting light

see my veins protruding under my skin

hear my heart pounding aggressively within

my stomach yearns for hot food

the music puts me in a good mood

i feel a roller coaster in my head

before i know it I'm in bed

to fight the unbeatable foe
         the more I read, the less I know
                  long ago walk in Seattle snow ...


           30 year reunion, but I didn’t go.

becoming the subject of a muse,
merely an object as the muse.
i see the discomfort that comes from
having your story told for you,
displayed without your consent.

i am the director of my own life.
i wrote you out of my script,
so leave your idealized version of me
out of yours.

the unsettlement i feel
to be spoken of so highly,
with a glaze of gold outlying my skin,
stuck to a pedestal.

i am not your trophy,
i will never be your wife!
your version of me
projected through the eyes of obsession.
infatuation.
did you see me as your possession?

and so here it lies.
here lies the irony of making you a muse,
to preach my uttermost desire
to be shed as yours.

Darling,
the Moon bleeds seeing you cry,
the Sun  is dying to see you smile;

I dreamt last night
the world was on fire
and it all started
with the spark
between
me and you