how did shadow walk into this light filled home?
did i forget to bolt the door? or leave a window ajar?
did he steal down my chimney while i slumbered in my bed?
while dreaming words of love and joy?

he sits at my table now, demanding another cup of grief from me.
how can i tell him he's emptied my cupboards? and what
will he do when i ask him to leave without quenching his thirst?

and why, oh why, do i want to offer him anything, anything at all,
if he would only stay?

you set the table just so,
with candle light's warm glow
musical notes drifting on air
with the wine you serve, i'm there

but then the meal arrives, with bones for my throat
bitter poison, leg of goat
i notice the wine has lost its clarity
now you laugh at the perceived disparity
you rise to leave, say you've lost your appetite
i've ruined your supper, your planned delight

you, who so carefully arrange brutality
crafting my demise with skillful hand
i won't be served by you again

i finally found my own clarity
i'm sweetest champagne, well chilled
now i realize it was your own disparity
once your evil brew was distilled

never mine, never mine
i'm sweetest wine, sweetest wine

falling down into the pit,
tumble my stones into the
gravely grave, where my heart
pours a sieve, where rain
falls down in sheets,
enshrouds my truth.

my seething, growling, gnawing
tiger caged in her corner,
spits into my dark night;
she's ready to pounce.

i thought i'd tamed the beast,
but she was only waiting in shadows.

now backed into her corner, she strikes
her razors across my face.

i bleed onto packed dirt floor.

tiger's eyes glow green.

this is the ship that hears the horn blow
and seeks the brightest beacon of light

her port of call, that sheltered harbor
on stormy dark and windswept night

my ship will break upon the rocks
with no steady compass in hand

ride the mystic waves with me,
we can sound the depths of the ocean

let us plunge our line into the fathomless love
in that oneness, find our measure

then sail on, sail on, into the deep

with unsure steps, tread the ground
gaze out with open eyes
cast away all fear and doubt
let the music sing your soul

this river will wash your bedrock
polish the rough stones of your longing
flow away your worried mind

when this love-seed settles in the soil of your heart
your rose will bloom, in fertile field
where nightingale warbles its melodious tune

lay down your head upon alfalfa pillow
let the music take you high
where daffodil dreams and mystic streams
sing you sweetest lullaby

now close your eyes and feel the pull
this song the lodestone to your heart
drawing out your own sweet tune

hear gentle clouds that roll on by
smell sweet the scented breeze in sky

feel the love,
                  
                      let go,
                              
                              ­     *now fly

would that you would go a spell further,
fight a round harder, walk a mile longer,
perhaps you will see the clear waters,
the soaring vistas, the spring flowers

sandstorms blind your eyes and sting your throat,
your music lost into the wind

walk on, lonely pilgrim, walk on and meet me
in the green valley

its just 'round the bend

i've a song to play for you

this fire, this fire
how it burns!

too close i brought my hand;
i've backed into the burner
now, without a thought or plan.

rages, rages, now consumes,
this blazing fire, how it looms!

burned up my curtains,
the veil's been rent
my joy, it seems,
has all been spent

smoke it chokes
and stings my eyes
this fire,
my searing
reprise

slipping from your mouth
dripping forth from pen
poem speaks its own
language of within

name me muse,
imagination,
inspiration,
soul-speak

your truth is drawn
forth from my lips
kiss me quick
or kiss me long
i'll have you sing
your mirrored song

i'll trace my pen
'round your most
sensitive places,
drive you to madness
with my exquisite phrases

or strike at your eyes
with this raging dagger
let the ink pour forth,
your wounded stagger

kiss me quick,
or kiss me long,
choice is yours
now sing your song

you are spring showers
upon my parched earth.

i soak you in
and drink you up

your nourishment giving me            
something i've craved                          

i soak you in
and drink you up

i soak you in
and drink you up.

by possession of my reality
i'll plow my new existence

(the tree most heavily pruned, i'm told,
brings forth sweetest fruits of the season)

laying dormant for quite some time
but feeling springtime's urging

leaflets springing from my branches
your words, my fertilizer

my soul will give me gentle rains
the Sun, its glorious power

it won't be long now before i feel
tight buds begin to flower

then by wind and butterfly,
by pollen shared and spread

words burst forth, oh fruitful
dreams!  these heavily laden branches!

if i could
copy and paste
you into
my book
i would.

i'd lock you
into the pages
between my
covers

bookmarking
your sweetest
lines with my
red silk ribbon

i'd open you up
and read your
darkest secrets
in still of night
by candlelight

and under full
moon's glow, drip
my honey'd words
upon your tender
heart.

oh to copy
and paste
you into
my book

where our love
affair could bloom
in words.

the only place it ever could.


--bruised orange

bring your hammer and mutes.
temper my just intervals and
i'll beat a sweet harmonic series.

stretch my octaves,
correct my dissonance,
fine-tune my enthusiasm,

i'll play you some smooth sounds

no curtain call for you.

you tried to
unveil sanity
but the show flopped.

nobody likes a bad actor.

My neighbor has advised more roughage.
"Healthy bowels will keep illness away."

My therapist says group will do it.
"Share your stories with those who relate."

My doctor gave me a script for ******.
"Call me when these run out."

My muse sings urgently into my ear.
"Keep writing, we'll get there, no doubt!"

My friend tells me more prayer is the ticket.
"Talk with God and you won't be afraid."

But my sister (the French psychoanalyst) tells me simply,
"You need to get laid!"

now i've tried the vegetables, they are tasty to eat
and the group i found, well it's just down the street
the prescription's been filled, and easily (twice!)
my pen keeps me writing long into the night
and prayer brings me answers, my truths come to light


but this last advice has left me in stitches
you see, its been such a very long time
would someone direct my feet, and,
please tell me, where do i get some of that?

(and now she dissolves, into fits of hysterical laughter)

melancholy mondays
always leave me breathless
and longing

like a sad friend come to visit
to share a cup of grief with me

and i, with my breaking heart
welcome the feeling of lonely arms
entwined in a wistful embrace

too much to share,
i sigh into my teacup
my tea sighs back at me

leaving my vision foggy
and my face flushed


--bruised orange

i have planted my words
in the soil of your heart
my tears have showered
the land at my feet
my hands have pulled
the weeds in the furrows

now i must trust in
the mercy of the sun

what bounty will come
is not mine to know

time is not mine
to complete


--bruised orange

i love your voice.

your words sing
my heart

they fly up,
connect with my soul

you are the ink
to my pen


--bruised orange

A voyeuristic view through the windows of happy friends
is not nourishment enough for this poet's heart
and does not sate this dreamer's hungry soul

before this spirit journeys on
i'd like to know what it is like
to be loved from the inside out

those delicate strings,
that haunting duet,
of love not bound by fear

i'd like to know love
from the inside out
and not from the outside in

that stuff of dreams,
(yet real i've seen)
that one true union of souls

it's honeyed nectar taste
would be sweet upon my lips
and those delicate strings,
tender music to my soul.


oh muse, you take me too far
i must leave off
before i break this tender heart
and having been turned inside out
i fly completely

apart



--bruised orange

oh words, come forth
do not be shy

your fear of
being misconstrued
has clamped your voice
tightly shut.

words left unspoken
scream silently to a deaf
audience and
are not compelled
to leap and prance


--bruised orange

laughter skips into view,
turns a corner up ahead.

i run to catch up,
stumbling over lemon drops
she's spilled along the way

coordination's never been my gift.

i'll just follow the trail,
her citrus tangy scent
flares my nostrils

i forget myself,
and skip.


--bruised orange

she's poised to flourish, poised for ignition, poised to be poised with good intention. she's poised on the fence, at the starting gate, quick she comes, but finishes late.*


this rose she trembles, shy to bloom
yet longs to share her sweet perfume

of spring this blossom is now consumed
how suddenly hope has been exhumed

by force of nature too strong to stay
faltering, leaves have begun to sway

intentions to keep tight in bud
cannot prevent the rays that flood

trembling, poises this blossom fair
quick comes the bursting forth with flare


--bruised orange

reams of paper at my feet
words i write, my desolation

my coward's heart locks inside
the words i long to sing

my pen is stilled, my heart explodes
my words tumble to the ground

the evidence, on clear display
in reams of paper at my feet


--bruised orange

oh muse!

your true light thus, to me, imparts
by scattered moon dust upon my heart
commences your aery lyre's string
now from you flows the magical springs

i quaff your mystical wine, and sing


--bruised orange

Dangling sweet ambrosia scents
Repose upon the jasmine bench
Easing sorrowful soughs
Amidst lamented long slipped
Melancholy memories singing
Suserant soliloquies in stillness


--bruised orange

the reticent bard sits,
strung on a fence.

his fear of leaping
one side or t'other
has given him a sore ***;
he's sat there for years.

his songs, sung to the birds
of the field, fly softly through
the air.

and not a one hears him
and not a one cares,
the reticent bard reflects

his contemplation lost
to an audience unhearing

the birds of the field,
hearing his sighs,
wing their flight
to places unknown.

our dear bard,
in solitude laments
his yearning

the reticent bard has forgotten
the majestic ministration of words.

that mysterious music
which sings into the air,
and returns magic,
far and near.


--bruised orange

this fire breathes
loud inside my head
the clang and crash
of my combustion

trying to douse the flames,

my bucket 'o water
has merely served
to excite the element

groaning breath clamors,

its loud vapor screams
my rapid oxidation

waiting beast
inside my head,
you'll have your
meat soon enough

and i, seared upon
your spit,
once again.


--bruised orange

yesterday i gave away
the last hoard that had
been my husband's

he had left it here
after his final storm
(in his rage it had been forgotten)

i had stored it this long
having too much guilt
(or fear?) to pass it to another

but yesterday i gave it away
it now belongs to some other

i can't believe how much
lighter i feel, to have
finally done this deed

no longer will i bear the name
Storehouse for his Debris


--bruised orange

that withered body,
twisted by time
sits still, subjected to
whim or care of
those around you.

you are spoon fed
platitudes,
condescension
served alongside your dinner.

eyes, with a diminished view,
your voice locked inside,
unable to sing those songs
of yesteryear.

hope dies a slower death
than these bodies, than this mind.

recognition reaches across
that enshrouded mist.

that tender moment,
your hand seeking mine

you are still an effective beauty.

yes, i see you


--bruised orange

see the wooden statues,
how they walk about,
locked inside, their
heartwood screams
to be cut free of doubt

watch the alabaster statues,
dance around the room,
their translucent skin
masks the beauty of
roses' passionate bloom

break the marble statues,
real beauty's trapped inside,
chisel away, bright flames ablaze,
with light too bright to hide


melt your bronzened statue,
show me your true form,
though lovely,copper and tin
will never compare
to the gold that shines within


--bruised orange

how far i must travel into the bowels of my land to recapture that castle
'once more unto the breach...once more'*



i see you there trying your best to obscure,
your hulking frame still enshrouds my mind

yet, 'tis i who pierce the veil this time
your own night terrors, will soon reveal

fear and tremble, dragon
your storybook enchantments
draw quick their close

i will smite you down with my raging pen
my hounds have sniffed you out

i am no longer your enchanted
princess, fumbling with stolen
jewels in your dank lair

you no longer have refuge in my cave
this land, my noble birthright

i'm coming for you next, thieving one
i will take my careful aim

and you?
you shall hear my crack of doom

What would happen if we tore them down
All the walls that keep us apart
What would happen if we threw them to ground
those masks that hide our true heart

Would it not be in our interest if we forgot the tales,
what our fathers told us about the 'other'
and looked for ourselves, with bright new eyes
upon the faces, into the hearts, of one another.

Would we not find there something good and kind?
Could we not discover we have a like mind?
If we look around we just may find
that cord encircling, those ties that bind

Will you see the beauty of this fine garden?
Do you feel the strength of these branches strong?
Can you sense the waves of our connection?
Do you hear the notes of this new song?

open bright new eyes and see

we are made for one another

we are family


--bruised orange

when he took words from me and stole my voice
i had given up the notion of having any choice

my life became a muted scene
i lived each day in a nightmarish dream

when he stole my words from me

reaching down into my throat
he pulled them, one by one by force

my words lay in a puddle on the floor

i left them there, not knowing how to get them back
one day he simply swept them away, they tumbled into a dark crack

now that he is gone, i've pulled them out, washed them off.
i arrange them on a page. but some words, i've noticed, have gone missing.

i wonder did they blow away in the wind? never to be found again?
or are they broken in the dust, waiting for me to find them,
to mend them with my hand

or perhaps they are smashed beyond repair,
and i will have to live my life as such
never being able to say all that i feel,
unable to find the words that can mean so much


--bruised orange

slow slips his sighing.

she succors his heart,
her shades of seduction,
his harmonious hearing

her hushed sonata
sighs softly in stillness

quiet quintessence,
he yearns her
melodious marvels

moonlight makes for
merry mischief,
consorted in concert.

quickly comes the crescendo
of their close cadence

luminescence laments
their languid leaving

melancholy moon
shares hushed solitude
in silence, so sweet

--bruised orange

real, real, who's got some real?
lay it out in front of me now
spill the beans, spill your guts

goody goody may look pretty
struggle struggle is oh, so gritty
true to me, true to you
who do you think  is fooling whom?

build up walls, lock yourself away
hide from the world, cover your shame
you'll only have yourself to blame

let it out, scream some more
find yourself, and show the world

let it out, scream some more
show yourself, and inspire the world


--bruised orange

i embrace the darkness within me
and find there is light enough to bear
no longer need to run in fear
or pretend i do not hear
the call, for it is strong,
and will commence the
silent scream within my
brain when i stubbornly
turn a deaf ear to its song

i'll find it oozes through
the pores of my skin
attacks my kith and kin
it only wants to be loved, too

i find a full on frontal address
relieves it best, no mere
handshake will do. darkness
wants to feel the love, too

SO:

darkness, my old friend
what will you share with
me today?  what juicy
news to me impart
what breaking waves
upon my heart?

sit a while, have some tea
i know you have something
good for me.  i know you were here
just last week, but i can't get
enough of your sweet embrace

so crack me open, spill me out
leave me breathless on the floor
in the morning, you'll leave my side
and me? i will have enjoyed the ride

my thoughts impressed by all you share
and i, the better for your care
morning light upon me breaks
you always leave me, but ever return
bearing gifts, so thoughtfully prepared

you always leave me,
awakened, and aware


--bruised orange

of pain and suffering many have written
of those fiery tests we've sung forlorn
this, my hymn of how i've been measured
here is my song, of experience born

plucked from the heap with sense of dread
from murky darkness how long obscured
not knowing the glory which lies ahead
we balk at the process to be endured

impurities burned away by flame
the kiss of fire does smelt us
dross once skimmed, reveals the claim
a fine treasure, with beauty ageless

though kiss of fire will burn intense
in hands of master metallurgist
how malleable we become at his bench
fine works of art, fashioned purest

now aglow with joy and praise
no longer are we bemired
singing this hearth song from hearts ablaze
with gratitude we'll next leap to the fire

i welcome the kiss, brought once more to my brow
and embrace this pain, my fashioner's distill
burn away burn away burn away now
create of me what you will


--bruised orange

deep and wide
this river i must float
(though fording i'd prefer)

swirling eddies
mark its dangerous
course

and how long to reach
the distant bank?

traversing these sharp rocks
and slippery stones,
i must tread carefully.

and having arrived,
will i find
my wagon train's
moved on
and their trail grown cold?

--bruised orange

poets possess

dreamy romantic hearts
with notions enough to
stitch a quilt of love
to blanket the world


poets possessed

of cracking wit
and sharp tongue,
by darksome reveal,
spur us on towards
a bold new frontier


poet's possession

immeasurable wealth,
freely distributed.
the mighty pen sways
hearts and minds.

treasures inherent,
readily bestowed.


poet's possessor

the world own's her heart
and she, the world's
through words, none new
arranged fresh for you:

delight and beguile,
awaken again the senses,
as morning dew strewn
on Kentucky bluegrass

or creep up behind
and steal a kiss,
bringing pure bliss
to dry, parched lips

or rush and attack,
leave you flat on your back,
wind knocked from your chest,
in a state of unrest

words own her heart,
they always have,
right from the start




--bruised orange

immeasurable wealth,
freely distributed.
the mighty pen sways
hearts and minds.

treasures inherent,
readily bestowed.


--bruised orange

of cracking wit
and sharp tongue,
by darksome reveal,
spur us on, towards
a bold new frontier


--bruised orange

dreamy romantic hearts
with notions enough to
stitch a quilt of love
to blanket the world


--bruised orange