my torment
as ornaments on the tree
the branches would bend
under the weight of them

If I could hang
my pain
on wires like clothes
in my closet
I could shut the door  
on them.
Never to be bothered again.


If I could hang
my tear drops
like stars
on the blackest night
everyone one would go blind
by the encumbering shine

his hot words like candle
wax, separating the whites from
the blacks then I could relax
into the greys. And gather sage.

If I could melt
down his rage like April
snow by the afternoon I’d see it
go. Underneath it the spring,
and tufts of feathers from the robin.

If I could melt
the past into a song
I'd weep when I sang it,
but still make me strong. I'd pierce
through the flames like the phoenix bird
and rebirth.

plays every time he calls. And my
heart go up another notch above
the volume of the song. And then I
hit the green accept that allows

his voice to emit from the piece of
plastic that I hold with clammy hands
like a teenager again. And then he says
my name, mine his.  And it feels as if

the ring tone got it right, or else Madonna
when she sings “If I could melt your
heart we’d never be apart” And so I don’t
feel so far away. And it fills up the space

of the double martinis. And I’m already dreaming
of the next time the song plays. And I go
through the process once more, of hearing music,
seeing green feeling joy and flying unicorns

that adorn the windshield.  And he says in that
sultry voice “hello Sandy” What could be finer
than this? Well, don’t go tell him that I said
“maybe a kiss” on those soft lips.

I’d fit each hurt on the head of one pin,
each misdeed and every sin so that
I’d make a suit of armor. Wearing my anguish
as a charmer I’d shine so bright

no one could dim my light. If someone
so kind was to pull out one of
my pins I wouldn’t notice at all, wearing
armor six feet tall. Even if they pulled out more

this suit of pain would still endure. It took
years to make, year and years of fears
and mistakes. There’s a different pin for
everything. One for rue, one for discord, one

for the people I abhor. There’s envy, lies
and disgust. The battle cries are far too
much. The cuts, the bleeds the Shangri-La’s
where I smoked the stoked cigars from so called

friends and lovers that stuck their pins
inside this vat. Yes! This heart is now
a cask. But it has been preserved on all the
hard liquor I filled it with, ***** and chicks
and fiddlesticks.

your problems
I’d wear them
but
cut off the sleeves
if I could take on
your tears
I’d drink them down
but
with some ***** and cherries
if I could take on
your pain
I’d wrap it up
in cauliflower and cheese
and bake it
in the oven
and they’d be leftovers
to eat again
and I’d serve them
with
***** and cherries
in my cut-off sleeves
and be buried under
a canopy of
willow trees

If I could train myself to have people’s remarks
bounce off of me like rubber, instead of sticking to me
like blubber, it would not matter when I flubber.

If I could train myself to be happy with what I got,
instead of looking at what I’m not, I could give it
another shot.

If I could train myself to be more real,
instead of  worrying about how other people feel,
I know I would heal.

If I could train myself to wear a smile,
instead of feeling vile, I could go the extra mile.

all the tangles
with the snap of a finger
or the toss of my head
the wag of my tongue

split the things that he said
do I go back to the place
of imaginary grace? Inside of
my youth, a prize lies

for the lost tooth. Under
my pillow, as the sun slides
down from the sky, as the shades
are drawn to a lullaby. The hands

on the clock race. Do I go back
to this place? A place of paper dolls
and bunny walls. And teacups and saucers
flying over the falls.

some things like ribbons
in my hair I'd cut the ties
and have them swinging free like
Gibbons in the tree.

If I could undo
the damage I’ve done
but how do you stop
a flying bullet after it’s shot
from a gun?

If I could undo
all the pain
I’d take a pair of scissors
and shear the clouds
stopping the rain.

If I could undo
the past
like a broken arm
set in a cast
but how shall I cast light
on covered broken pieces?

Weld them together with love
is the thesis!

like a lipstick kiss with a dab of
water the size of a quarter. Or like
chocolate fudge smudged on my chin,
taking it off with a bar of soap and

a square washcloth.  Or just like
the ring around the tub, a little ammonia
and scrub it clean with elbow
grease. Or throwing it in the washer

machine with the whites. It come out
bright. But no! This pain is a stain
of spilled red wine. It's grown teeth
like a rabid canine. Spreading

like mud on a swine. Rolling in
it. Covering me. It's up to my
knees! Caked on my hands. Bled out
my colors and broke all my plans.

of you like I do with my hair
in a dollop of shampoo then life
could fly like a breeze. I’d tease out the snarls
with a wide-tooth comb. Set my life
straight as a femur bone.

If I could wash myself clean
of this mess like throwing the dresses
mashed in my closet in a plastic bag
and deposit it at the Goodwill store. Then I’d
have room for the things I like more.

If I could wash myself clean
from the past, of every relationship that
didn't last./that didn't shape me into
this woman that is now erudite. I'm not
light of the weight. But I've spread it out
so it's not packed in one place.

with an old dish cloth
as I do the plates when I wash
them after dinner, till the remnants
of Salisbury steak grow thinner. Or sweat

that runs off like a trough
down my nape from the steam
in the bathroom. Wipe him with
a tissue as I do the mist on the

mirror. I dot the glass. And a little
spot grows clearer. But it fills back up
again. Till a breeze from the window
blows in. He's ***** matter stuck in

the groove of my sneaker. So,
as I move, I tread it into the house. Spreading
it like a disease. And the stench of it
knocks me out. But even ****

that’s smeared like shaving cream in
peaks of brown and green
can be wiped off the floor. But not
the memory I neatly store.

the leaves still clung
as a young boy to his
mother’s *****. And still
they’ll fall –

the clinging won’t
stop or slow the process. And if
you cling to a dead tree you’ll
die too. Let the breeze take you –

at least you have
a chance to move on

If I Didn’t Have a Name

what would you call me? If I wasn’t attached
to a person, as a daughter, wife, mother or friend
you couldn’t say this is so and so’s daughter, wife,
mother or friend. What if I didn’t have a job or

a hobby? You couldn’t say she does this
or that. What if I didn’t even have an address? You
couldn’t say she lives there. All of the spaces would
be blank, because there wouldn’t be anything to fill

them in with. People would wonder about
such a person like this, unhitched and uncoupled. Would I
still exist? I would still have my thoughts; I would still have
my brain. I would still be me, the same.

what would you call me? If I wasn’t attached
to a person, as a daughter, wife, mother or friend
you couldn’t say this is so and so’s daughter, wife,
mother or friend. What if I didn’t have a job or

a hobby? You couldn’t say she does this
or that. What if I didn’t even have an address? You
couldn’t say she lives there. All of the spaces would
be blank, because there wouldn’t be anything to fill

them in with. People would wonder about
such a person like this, unhitched and uncoupled. Would I
still exist? I would still have my thoughts; I would still have
my brain. I would still be me, the same.

that all the Brobdingnagian trees
exuviate their crimson orange leaves
gibbeting jagged appendages in the snow
and that emerald blades freeze

I'd not fall like a mosquito.
I'd grow plump as a pumpkin on the vine.
Not crushed and bottled
as grapes in the cherry wine.

And if his rounded face wasn't traced
on the mosaic tiled moon
this stock-still heart wouldn't race
and break from her blanket of a cocoon.

It hibernate in the slivers of a silky spoon,
sleeping as a nun till the lilacs bloom.
And the stars dancing pirouettes
wouldn't have me break out in a sweat!

like the child I am to the breast you were
maybe you wouldn’t have drained
like the downspout emptying out the overflow
of rainwater
you were spongy then as I could sink into you
and you would absorb me
permeable as the grass, lush, thick and green
until it gets saturated, stomped on and muddied
there’s a swamp in my backyard
I lost my tangerine
Put upon, put upon Percy

If I don’t Tell You

You won’t know
I could keep it to myself
Or just let it go
I could tell somebody else
have them promise not to say
I could write it in my diary
Lock it up/throw the key away
I could feign indifference
I could act real cool
If I could keep my composure
But I don’t think I could fool
Anyone
By this silly game
I would slip instantly
At the mention of your name
Why try to hide it?
Why be ashamed?
When it comes to loving you
So what if I’m blamed!

off like a barbie doll
and don another, a sister
or a long-lost brother to fit
the scene I'd make

the silver screen. But My head's
so tight, wearing the bathroom
towel.  I cannot rotate it like
an old barn owl. If I spin it

like a weathervane, it’d
spill out all this pain. My head's
a stuffed Thanksgiving
turkey. But I'm not swimming

in the gravy. It's so heavy
sitting on my neck. I putter
around like 65 Chevy car
wreck. My head's a fishbowl

filled with dead fish. When I walk
I swish. Or I'll get it chopped
off like Anne Boleyn. Place it
on a dish served to the king.

of my hair like shampoo
if the memories ran down
the drain like soap bubbles
and take with it the pain

If I’d washed him out
like a stain on my blouse
or clean up the cracks
by adding some grout

If I’d washed him out
like a flood drowning everything
in the path, an erosion of
this thing called love
no aftermath of brokenness
only wings to clear the emptiness

the sun
would you melt it down
like a ball of butter
letting it run
down the gutter?

If I gave you
a book
would you burn it
without taking a look?
Would all the pages
go up in flames?
Not a spot for me
to claim.

If I gave You
a tree
would you chop it down
till it falls on me
and I'm trapped
underneath?

If I gave you
my -
I did from the start

Will you promise to protect -
And show the utmost respect?
If I lay it on the line  -
My deepest feelings I define -
Will you promise not to laugh?
Will you give me as much as that?

I want you to know -
I've been hurt before.
And I can't take much more.
But I'm willing to commence -
Even at my own expense.
There's something special here.
Are you not aware?

I want you to realize that -
What happens can't be taken back.
And no one can pick up the slack -
Or deny and try to retract.
So with that all in mind -
I hope that we shall find -
A better place for us!
A place where there is trust.

will you treasure it?
Will you promise to hold it dear?
Will you always keep it near?
Will you walk the floor with it when it cries?
Will you never tell it a single lie?
Will you not want more than it has to offer?
Will you not try to take advantage or proffer
from this?
I only have one to give.
It’s yours if you want, my heart that is.

I’d soar
higher than the trees
into the clouds
and catch a breeze

If I Grew fins
I’d swim
longer than the seas
onto the earth’s outer edge
and be a tease

If I Grew muscle
I’d lift
you off your knees
into the dancing stars
and galaxies

I’d give it to you. If seconds
were minutes our time would
accrue. But it only flies when
we’re together. If I could tether

the ends it would restrict
our flow. So, I let go. Because the real
anchor here isn’t one with a metal
shank. We’ve got our love to thank

for keeping us steady. Strength isn’t
something weighed down and
heavy. It’s a wing of a bird. It’s a grain
of sand. It’s a moment unplanned.

a gun
will you pull the trigger?

If I hand you
my bottle
will you take my last jigger?

If I hand you
a sentence
will you commit the crime?

If I hand you
my heart
would you make me some time?

If I hand you
a story
would you put it in print?

If I hand you
a clue –
Can you take a hint?

every material thing
I want, what else is left
for me to desire? How can more
of the same inspire?

If I have
all my dreams come true
what shall I dream? When I go
to sleep I’ll be counting sheep.

If I have
the sunshine all day –
never a cloud to get in
my way all that warmth
would burn me. The ground would
crack. Vegetation would shrivel
and dry. Every living thing here
would die.

If I have
reached the top
where else is left for me
to go? I’d jump off
because I can’t stay put. Boredom
ensues when there is no news.

If I have
Heaven
here on earth
when I depart they’ll be
no rebirth. If I have found
my paradise inside this portal –
what’s the use of being immortal?

I’d hang it low
so, it can show
the freckles
of them eyes
like dancing fireflies

If I hung, the moon
I’d hang it high
So’s not to fall
from the sky

If I hung, the moon
I’d hang it under
the house
so’s even a mouse’s chest
lights up
as an x-ray
and you see its bones
its eyes as sapphire stones

If I hung, the moon
I’d hang it over
the roof
as proof –
I’m the light
morning, afternoon
and night

she’d call me a lesbian. Maybe I liked them
because they treated me with respect. You
don’t go calling an innocent ****** little
girl a *******. Yep, those were her

words! You don’t beat her body until
there’re welts. You don’t have her screaming
out for help. You don’t take your adult frustrations
out on her –

This ******* ***** is what I called “mother”

with vanilla ***** and wedges of men
strawberry wine, stilettos and pen. I have
so many like Swiss cheese. You can
thread them together as if they were

beads. I stuff them with pound cake
and chocolate ice cream, tampons
and broom closet screams. Fill them
with lines of rhyme and feathered

earrings. Some I was born with. Some
I’ve made. But I’ll not forget the ones
given to me. They grew over the years,
like a little brother that didn't leave

home, large as the mountains,
and deep as the seas. But I’m proud
that I pushed out my babies. And I'll fill
all their holes with love and with cream.

my man can pull
my plug
all the ***** water
running out

still debris
sticking to the side
like fallen leaves
making a ring

round the whole thing
big as Aunt Bessie’s hide
if he can sift the dirt
from the water

it'd still turn cold
as Aunt Bertha's nose
as she's kissing me
smearing it in my cheek

leaving lipstick streaks
like zebra stripes
only they’re red
like someone bled
out into the night

it’s because I’ve splintered
in the coldest of winters. Under
my bark after the layers ripped
off is a shark!

If I’m hard
it’s because I’ve fell as a stone
from a hundred floors and
shattered my bones. My jagged chips
are now sailing ships.

If I’m hard
it’s because I’ve had men walk
all over me. I’ve crumbled as crimson
leaves under elephant feet. My pieces
crushed. I fly in the wind over lakes, rivers
and mountains.

your sunrise
I won’t be
your sunset

If I’m not your
rain shower
I won’t be
your rose garden

If I’m not your
memoir
I won’t be
your secret

I have my self-esteem

If I’m not your
living, waking woman
I’ll never be
your dream

let me live inside
the man's arms. They are
my walls. I live here while
the world outside dies. I pray

for the tin centers that lost
their shine. Here I grow
a garden. Water it with our
sweat. The gleam in our eyes,

the sunshine. Our teardrops,
a bubbling brook. Our children,
the flowers. No sovereignty outside
this can fold the fortress we hold.

for you –
is the mountain
too immense
for the hiker to climb
is the sea
too deep
for the diver
to explore
this watery world
is the wind
too turbulent
for the eagle
to fly
is the desert
to dry
for the camel
to ride
is the sun
too hot
for the grass
to grow?
If I’m too Intense –
just let me go!

then let me be found
like a glossy shell on the shore
plunked by the tide
no longer will I hide
as sweaters in the drawer

If I’m washed up
then let me bask in the sun
of my own ignorance –
just for the fun

If I’m washed up
then I’m ready to go
where you shall ask –
I’ll let you know

because you’re green
and I am blue. Then look at
the sky hanging quietly over
the grass. And ask how they pass
the afternoon.

If I ruffle you
because I fly around
and you're tied
to the ground, I won't let
my castles in the air
make your molehills disappear.

If I ruffle you
because I won't walk a straight
line or stand in the shadows
or fall behind or fit in the frame
that you hand-made it's only because
I don't like the shade.

clouds ahead
I’ll mix them with
fire-engine red,
and make a candy
cane. So, if it rains
I’ve a swizzle stick
to dip in my champagne.

If I hear
thunder above
I’ll fix it with
unbated love,
and make a friend. So,
if I’m lonely I’m not
the only one  
that got no one.

If I Showed You

myself, everything I am, would you
walk away? Would you close the door
on me? Would I embarrass you because I’m
too emotional? I’m intense, and provocative. I go

to extremes. But I’m playful, loveable and
very sensitive. I become attached to
people easily. Consequently I get hurt. And
the hurt doesn’t wash away in the bath. Sometimes
it never does. I live with the scars.

as a stone
someone can throw me
through a window

If I sit
as a fallen leaf
someone can crush me
beneath their feet

If I sit
as dust
someone can wipe me off
the top

If I sit
as the snow
I can turn yellow

If I stand
as the sun
I rise
over the mountains
and fill the sky

like pancakes on a plate
drowning them in maple syrup
till I ate them all. My belly
ache! Or If I stack her pain like

dollar bills I'd fill my office like
a bank. And she'd thank me. Then we'd
take the stacks and blow them at the
mall. Or I'd stack them on the wall

in wooden frames so they can
be contained.   I'd pile them up
like colored blocks and knock them
down like bowling pins and score

a strike so she can win. If her pain
were bricks I'd stack them one on
the other till I build us a home on a grassy
knoll. And we'd live in it till we grew old.

in-between the gaps
in his hedges. Here I enter
his kingdom. I look up
at him through the glass as I pass.

I fit
into this stage
of doorways and windows. The stacked
logs greet meet. The ground rolls out
the green carpet. I part it with my sole
and point at him with painted toes.

I fit
into his frame. I’m a picture
of wavy hair and tight florals, lipstick
and loose morals. He flicks the light
switch. And I come to life with smiles
and appetite.

I fit
back into the adjusted
driver’s seat. My feet, closer
to the pedals than to him. I talk to
the wheel as I push my heel
down to the floor. The engine roars.

you’ve given me  
put it in air miles
I could travel the whole world
in style
and stay in each place
for awhile

If I take all the tears
cried over you
dropped them in the ocean
a deluge would ensue
that even Noah and his crew
couldn’t ride out

If I take all the time
I lied awake in anguish and discord
I could save it all
add it to the end of my life –
I’d live to three-hundred and four
with possibly room for more

said before
Say it

If it hasn’t been
done before
Do it

If it hasn’t been
invented yet
Create it

If it hasn’t been
Explored
be the first to explore it

If it hasn’t been
on the books
Write it

If it hasn’t been
accepted yet by everyone
open your arms up to it

If it hasn’t been
Make It Happen!

soap
would it rain bubbles?

If I threw up
pennies
would my fortune double?

If I threw up
powder
would it snow dust?

If I threw up
my hands in the air
would they start to rust?

I’m not the accumulation
of all your hurts
you can’t blame this snowflake
on the blizzard
you can’t call it a dinosaur
if it isn’t
if it’s in a pet store
it’s a lizard
go ahead and rip out
my gizzards
but you’ll never convince me
that I’m the bane
of your insane life
if it isn’t
you held yourself back
in your own prison

then it can’t be sappy

If it makes them smile
then it’s worth while

If it makes them laugh
even if it’s not what you intended
then it’s splendid

If it makes them *****
then it can’t be corny

If it makes them ***
then you know you have done
something right

leave them wanting more –

If it makes you money
then you’re no dummy

If I Told You

would I cause you some
embarrassment? Would it cause me
any pain? Maybe you would respond
negatively, or worse not at all. Would it change

the way you think of me? Would it make us
both feel ill at ease? Should I not say
anything? Should I wait for a better time,
when we’re in a different

place?  Should I let it sit as the dust
underneath my couch? It could collect and turn
into a great big furry ball. Maybe sweep it up
and throw it out, without your noticing it

being there in the first place? I think I’ll wait
for a rainy day, and unwrap it
carefully. It’s as delicate as hand-blown glass,
as fragile as an ego gets, but loyal as a family crest.

would you hold a fluted glass
and fill it to the top
and make a toast as the host
of the raindrops?

If it snowed vanilla ice-cream
would you place a bowl
under the sky
and squirt caramel swirls
adding sprinkles of walnuts
and a spoon on the side?

If the wind blew you a strawberry kiss
would you catch it in a wave
and return the bliss
mixed with chocolate shaves?

let it pour until it seeps into
my pores. Let me run naked
in the stream, having wild girl dreams.

If it snows
let it cover me from head
to toe in a blanket of white. Let the children
stick a carrot in me, laugh and sing
to their delight!

If it blows
the wind, let it carry me
up high. Pick me off the ground
into a purple sky. So, the men
below can ask “is it a bird; is it a plane”

If it hails
let it hit me like a pellet
gun. I won’t run! I’ll jump
between the blasts. Stare it in the face,
and shake my ***!

to sprinkle over me and not baby powder
I can rise in this heat. And not lie as a wafer. It's much
safer when they don’t know you. None can expose
you. I’ve pulled apart like an onion flower, crispy on

the outside and silky on the in. But I’m more than
just a weeping, rolling bulb of yellow skin. I’ve
curdled over the years from jumping hurdles
as a horse. I’m looking for the path that’ll

take me on a different course. Old as the oak
in my backyard. But even he turns his leaves from green
to red and gold, a blooming marigold standing high
with head pushing through the sky. But I’m the sort

of woman that doesn’t shed her leaves. I’m tired of
acting like a dog matted down with fleas. I’m going to
shake loose from this noose wrapped around me.