The house has gone

that box that grew me wrong
is now
the storage for another's lot

and may the crate be good to them

Let them bring
it love and further, turn
the pile into a home,
to fold the walls around themselves
be welcome in their sanctuary.

God knows
the place deserves it..

but open doors
and windows first,
to set the spirits free,

For I wish you not
the likes of mine
that cowered
in its secrecy

The stranger is no longer there
but now familiar brown eyes and soul to bare
He came back home a new man for me
So glad the stranger I no longer see

Now he doesn't want to take me down
but let's me be the queen I am and wear my crown

Now he brings light love and hope
and no longer uses alcohol to cope

No longer the liar I use to know
No longer the stranger with fear and woe

So glad the stranger is gone
now my husband is back with me at home
No longer is he a stranger to me
So glad the stranger I no longer see

She's wrapped herself on the wall
With her fragrant pink flowers
In bunches of disheveled disarray

And when the summer wind blows
It sends a gentle floral shower
Of blossoms and scents my way

At night, under the moon and stars
I inhale her. With her I love to be
And though I dally and play with words
There can never be a poem as she.

Love is like giving someone a gun pointed directly at your heart and hopping they won't shoot.

picture this: i'm 11.

new macy's two-piece bathing suit.
i like the colors.
you hate my stomach.

summer.
"why can't i wear my new suit?"
"because nobody wants to see a beached whale."

i do not wear it to the beach.
i dive into our golden lake,
your tongue-blade
muted among the surf.

i am beautifully alone,
but i do not wish to be.
the silence is enough of a gift.

you say "beached whale"
and expect it to hurt,

and it does. but not how you wanted.

i am a beached whale. 16 years later
a creature only meant to observe and love,
i was pushed out of the water,
to drown in your desert air.

i am learning to swim again.

i will break your harpoon.

In the musings of the dark Koel
That perches upon the winding bough
The sun that flushes from the east
Upon the earth's curving brow
In leaves that bend across to brush
The fruit of life that time bears,
The carnation's awakened blush
In the unseen breath of morning air
In swirls of clouds that float across
A placid sky of limpid blue
The ripples on the lake embossed
With dancing drops of sunlit dew
I know His chants, sense His thoughts
I hear hymns of divinity
I see His hand, I feel His touch
Midst echoes of eternity

the words i wished
would come out
of my mouth
tumbled out like
luna moths
and died the
morning after

the roses you got me
on valentines day
at the bottom of
my wastebin
in ashes

i can trace the space
where you were
once hugging me

on a chilly saturday
evening, on a
walk i caught the
whiff of a lonely
cigarette

i can’t help to
be reminded
of you

now i gather your
sweaters in
a laundry basket
your cologne permeates
tears

so when i wash them
i am left wondering

where did your scent go?