Spiraling cycles
Reluctant approaches
Exhaustive conjugations
Paths crossed are nothing more
As my hand strokes yours
Nothing stirs
In my mind’s eye all is mud
A murky vision enshrouds you

We have entered a rupture, a stalemate
You don’t feel like a scent
There is no accompanying rapture
Your edges are blurry
And I am leaving.

To live in this world
That perpetually suspects and inspects
To live in cycles
Once a rose
Soon a wilting flower, dregs, and left overs.

This is no place for woman
Woman
Of man, made from man’s ribs
Woman
Deficient in thought and temperament
I think of Virginia Woolf and Sylvia Plath
And the conjecture imposes itself
This is no place for  brilliant women

What at once should be resplendent  
Stunts and sedates
Because the climate
Cannot reconcile with woman.

Is it worth the wrestle, sweat and toil

The hollering irksome voices

The encumbrance

To simply say “I made it?”

Of what worth is strength?

To proudly proclaim you weren't  trodden on?

To firmly shoot “I'm here!”

I endured when it was “do or be dealt with?”

But what solace sought does strength preserve?

There was no rapture
No long forsaken greeting
No angel wings upon me
No grave to lay to rest

I met death with no grievings
It’s consummate glare I welcomed
Laid bare in death’s celestial stare
And ultimate homecoming

But in the moment of our union
A flutter, a pausedeath
Had life been worth living?
Of what worth was this breath
This ignited candle
That death’s muttering
so sublimely extinguished

Cliches that rot each verse

Feigned depth and grandiosity

Prairie of disheveled words

Bland prosaic songs of loss

Imposters of life’s drawing power

An exodus of trees takes place

A new familial abode

Past man’s cursed appetite

And choking steam of soot

That stripped their loved ones bare


Out into the night they soar

Their roots afloat

And leaves glistening under the moon’s glare


Into the ocean they file one by one

With hope, full hearts and glee

The resolute intention of the tree

Is one with the sea’s gift of mystery


Free from man’s brutality

And lamenting their land’s demise

A New resurrected breed

Shooting forth will rise


Rooted bark, oceans bark

Redemptive to the core

A festive home for weary trees

Will witness spirits roar.

I reach for a peach
Indulging in its bounty
Sly caterpillar