No matter what generation you come from
There is a cruelness of men and women
Not all men and not all women
But some to many of both

In a search for connection
I showed him my art
Drawings of dreams
And of nightmares

The vulnerability of imperfect lines
Of raw pain mixed into streaked charcoal
Page after page I flipped
Through my inner most thoughts

I watched his eyes
As he scanned each design
He turned toward me
Looking in my eyes
And gently says...

"You should stick to poetry"

It's a peculiar thing...
Fire

It can represent many of heart's emotions
Rage, passion, survival, heat
Embers turned to flame
with just one ignited match

Fire can also be completely diminished
Embers grow cold
Or the rain comes
In an attempt to squelch
The last flames of a fire burning lowly

Some fires are dangerous
Spreading uncontrollably
like a wildfire amongst innocent trees
merely bystanders in an unlucky trick of fate

Some trees are barely ten feet
when they're forcibly engulfed
In a ring of fire.

Such a shame is the day
When you realize that fire
has burned you forever

You may not have died,
but you always live with those scars.

Alarm clock, you ****!
I get angry and strike
the top of your head
as if you were a misbehaved child
and I was your grandmother
One, two, one more to go
I have to sleep more
Before I give you the time of day

Covers crinkled, stretching my toes
I roll my head to see my dresser.
It's not the clothes I need from inside it,
but rather the meds that lie on top of it.
Unscrew, pop, swallow, smile and nod
as I look at my reflection in the mirror
"Today is going to be a good day."

"Sugar and cream?"
"Yes, please" I reply to myself.
Wall paper, space heater, small round table.
There's a lot you can notice
When you're sitting by yourself

I wear a large yellow hat
so I blend in with the sun
Hoping it'll hide that I have no company

See, I don't mind being alone
As long as no one else notices

Two brothers, two different worlds
One comes home, one flies a million miles
Beyond our scope of understanding,
One safe, one at risk
Yet both in eminent danger

Two conflicting feelings
Blending and conspiring
Tearing my mind apart
With love and hate
Fear and trust
Insanity and reality

The current circumstances
Adding to the proclivity
of an already cautious heart
That this heart can not trust

But I trust my body, and I trust myself

Self: our greatest savior, if you choose so
Self: our worst enemy, if you allow it to be

Summer nights are my favorite...

To be able to sit on a hammock
Or in a rocking chair
Feet bare, shorts barely peering through
The edges of my long tank top
And not have a worry in my mind

On a night like that
Some would have a beer
or wine by their side
But I am a southern girl
So sweet tea will do just fine

As I peer through a screened in porch
I see the sky on fire
Scorching red and orange and pink
As if to emphasize the condition
of the world around me

As I sit there
in the silence of the evening
I feel a slight breeze
Like a gentle smile
Or comforting arms around me
Reminding me there can be
Simplicity
Beauty
Peace

No matter how young I was
Or how old I will be
I will never forget the feeling attached
To the profound subtlety
Of a summer wind

As I slowly opened my eyes
I saw a single ray of light
Bursting into my intentionally darkened room

As I turned to greet the day
I breathed in deeply
Letting my exhale
Penetrate the silent space

As I lay on my pillow
I saw a flutter of wings
Dance across my bed post
As if a Butterfly was waving

In a way she knew only I would see.