I don't want to play hide & sneak (boo & peak)
anymore with you.

I don't want to slide up or down your rain barrel
nor open my cellar door (1, 2, 3, 4) anymore
with you.

No more K-I-S-S-I-N-****** for you, doodle dandy.
Don't want your big rock, nor let you eat my candy.

Eeny, meeny, miney, moe. Skin-to-skin, toe-to-toe.
I pick the very best one,
And you are not it.

Well you knocked on my door
knock, knock, knocked on my door
and when I opened the door,
you said you missed me.
Yes, you missed me.
Well you walked in my room,
you walk, walk, walked in my room,
and you kissed me.
Yes, you kissed me.
Ah, yes.
You kissed me.
Then I went to my car
and you followed me out,
I said it's time to go,
and you knew what I meant,
then I kissed you.
I kissed you.
Then I drove away,
'cause I'm leaving you now,
but I miss you.
Oh, I miss you.
Yes, I miss you.
I miss,
miss,
miss,
miss,
miss you.

I dreamt we were all there -
family
friends
and he saw me, pretending I didn't
know him
in front of my
family
friends.
From across the room he signed to me in a language I understood,
"I love you."
("Love" was like a
boat
cradle
in the palm of his hand,
more like,
"I'll hold you.")
Maybe that's what love is
after all
anyway.

I have eaten
the last
doggy treat
it was
the best one
cause it
was made out
of meat

I know
you were probably
saving it
for snack time

Forgive me
I just couldn't bear
you're the one
who left it
on the chair
you're the one
who shouldn't have
left it there

My Husband

You reject me
& neglect me

You query me
& you weary me

You control me
& annul me

You coax me
& you hoax me

You disturb me
& perturb me

You vex me
& perplex me

You taunt me
& you haunt me

You ignore me
& you bore me

You blame me
& you shame me

You leave me
& deceive me

You cage me
& enrage me

You invade me
& degrade me

You bait me
& you hate me


My lover

You see me
& you free me

You kiss me
& you miss me

You warm me
& you charm me

You respect me
& protect me

You perceive me
& believe me

You hear me
& endear me

You mend me
& defend me

You delight me
& excite me

You face me
& embrace me

You esteem me
& redeem me

You ease me
& you please me

You know me
& you show me

You romance me
& enhance me

Blood
Red red blood.
What's the matter?
It's not normal.
Where's my book?
Call the doctor!
Blood
Red red blood.
In my pants,
Down my leg,
On the carpet,
In the toilet.
Blood
Red red blood.
Not the baby!
Oh my God!
Lay in bed.
Take it easy.
Lay in bed.
You can't choose.
Lay in bed.
Lay in bed.
Lay in bed.

I thought I checked the Bisquick.
I eyed it pretty good.
They came out light and fluffy.
Just like good pancakes should.

The children wanted seconds.
The baby ate with glee,
But in my bite I found a worm,
And no one knows but me.

We couldn't say what we meant,
Because we didn't know.

Surely we meant Something,
But Something didn't show.

Something was meant to be powerful!
Something was meant to be good!

Instead we said what we didn't mean.
And neither understood.

Boy boy boy boy man.
Don't do don't do, yes.

The beach was a sun filmed down,
which drips into spirals of ancient ballerinas.
Love's water books are still photos.

Don't do don't do, no!
Man boy man boy
          man. (boy)

I'm trying not to chase my destiny.
     (Let it come to me.)
I'm trying not to force my destiny.
     (What will be, will be.)
I'm trying not to hold my destiny.
     (It soars when it is free.)

Fly to me
Encircle me
     my blue dress

Silken cloth on my bare thigh
Cool and Enticing

Quiet breath of happiness
     my blue dress.

Woven strands of silken hair
     over, under, over, under
Brushed away from face and neck
     over, under, over, under
Like the weaver's warp and weft
     over, under, over, under
Tidiness made beautiful.

My wings aren't strong enough.
This I know.
I am strengthening them,
But they still lack the strength
To lift me above convention.

Dreamers dream up lovers.
I guess poets do, too.
I am luckier than they are.
I didn't dream up you.

You are as real as the dishes,
And bills and taxes, too.
You're an everyday person.
I didn't dream up you.

I'm the luckiest person.
And this is the silliest rhyme.
I'm going back to bed now.
I'll finish another time.

I'm floating downstream in my boat.
I see him at the shore.
"Can I come along?" he asks.
I let him in.
"But you cannot rock the boat," I say.
And you know what?
He doesn't.

The drop without the ocean.
The stop without the motion.
The sight without perceiving.
The loss without the grieving.
The gift without the giving.
The death without the living.

Bedouin woman
How far away you are
I cannot speak your
     language
I do not wear your
     veil
But we wait
     together
In the hallway
For the doctor
In a clinic far from home
Trying, discreetly, to nurse
     our toddlers.

Repetition and boredom,
Like the little shrew
     who painstakingly
     memorizes the
     safest path then
     takes it forever more.
Swiftly
     Blindly
          Mindlessly
Waiting for an obstacle to break the monotony.

When I leave Seoul I will
     cut my hair
     burn my clothes
     shed my skin and
     emerge
     a shooting star.

Ah moon
You are a memory
My love
     ebb and flow
          flow and bleed
               blood and tears.

Don't cry sweet moon.
Dance with me.
Encircle me.
endless, endless, endless dance.

Little stone child,
I breathe warmth, but you're cold.
I breathe life, but you sleep.
Endless, endless, endless slumber.

You are a memory of my liberation.
But are you really free?

You stalk me,
     taking advantage of my naivete.
I never see it coming,
     the arrow through the heart.
Neither alive nor dead
     I fall.
And quickly you run toward me
     expectant,
     alert,
     hopeful.
You protect me from the wolves,
     but keep me for yourself.

One, two, three.
     There are a thousand things to love.

Four, five, six.
     There are a thousand people to thank.

Seven, eight, nine.
     There are a thousand sunlit oceans.

Ten, eleven, twelve.
     But one disappointment wipes them clean.

One, two, three.
     Life moves in forms I don't recognize.

Four, five, six.
     Smile and pretend it's not true.

Seven, eight, nice.
     The future soars to meet me.

Ten, eleven, twelve.
     Then leaves me stranded here.

The quality of the wood on the cupboard.
Old poets, plums and wheelbarrows.
Is the toilet paper on the roll correctly?
     up? or under?
We never know why. We aren't allowed to ask.
Just watch and tell me what is.
     - no understanding?
     - that's impossible.
And everything will fit neatly -
     of course we must trim the edges.
But everyone expects that
     and we want it tidy.
So the sack full of cheerfulness
     can lay there all day.
It won't bring tomorrow any sooner.

After I fell in love
I did a thousand things:
I wrote a poem
I wrote a song
I wrote a story
I saw a sunset
I saw the stars
I played some music
I played a game
I painted a picture
I took a trip
I took a class
I grew my hair
I lost some weight
I learned a language
I hiked a mountain
I built a house
I planted a garden
I got sick
I got better
I got a job
I got a dog
I got a cat
I cut my hair
I moved away

The cherry tree began to lose it's blossoms last spring.
The entire road was littered with white petals.
It looked like snow.
Today the cherry tree has littered the road again,
With autumn leaves, crisp on the ground.
Same road.
Same tree.
But oh, so different.

Follow the path that leads to YES.
Follow the signs - YES
          the arrows - YES
The path is well-marked.

One day a dad and his boy, so free
Planted a seed so that one day a tree
Would grow and give shade when the days got hot.
Then the boy left home, but the tree grew not.

The tree grew not, but the boy thought it had.
He remembered with fondness, that day with his dad.
He imagined that tree growing more every day.
But the tree, long ago, had withered away.

Come to me my bonny boy,
And wear your coat of leather.
I'll be near the apple tree
Where last we were together.
Where last I kissed your bonny lips
In secret rendezvous.
Where last you laid me on the grass
In springtime's morning dew.
The apple tree has born it's fruit,
Yet we have not born ours.
So meet me on this chilly night
Beneath the sheath of stars.
Where I shall feed you pomegranate
And you shall break my trance.
Where Harvest Moon will illuminate
Our joyful lover's dance.

Who left whom?
You left first, with a full explanation.
I left next, with merely a note.
You left finally with absence and silence.
I left for good for another world.

Who returned?
You returned first, but I didn't greet you.
I returned next, and you offered a kind word.
You returned again, but I was away.
I returned recently, and you held me briefly.
We exchanged greetings and smiles.
Yet we are irretrievably severed.

Isolde, listen to me.
You must go home to your husband.
Go quickly.
Tristan's love is poison.
It will **** you both.
Save yourself.
Save him.
Turn around, go home.
Everything depends on this courageous act.
Tristan is not the golden love you long for.
Send him away - back to the mist from where he came.
Yes, look toward the mist, now and then,
     to remember how close you came to
     the dragon's breath.

I love you when you're with me
And when you're far away.
I love you in the moonlight
And at the break of day.

I love you over coffee.
I love you with your coke.
I love you when I want to
And even when I don't.

Let others look for their soul mates, their one true loves.
But not me - I know the secret.
I won't search for what I already have in the shoebox under my bed.
I'll not die an inch from the treasure.

I began this journey                                                  life,
Not utterly naked or                                                 bare,
For every night I gather what is                              necessary
From leftover strands of someone else's                life -
I weave them into                                                      a tapestry,
So that when I awake, I sense                                  the richness
Of the Universe where everything                          continues
Broken down, then taken up                                    again.

When cold hits the desert,
I'll go to Kwajalein.
I'll go to Kwaj.
I'll go in a Micronesian jet,
and I'll ride a rusted bike.
I'll go to Kwaj,
and the bougainvillea will sing.
Oh the blue eyed lagoon
     at Emmon beach.
I'll go to Kwaj.
And the palm trees will bow to the wind.
Barbecue air.
Plumaria and Parties.
Turtles in the pit
     and milk truck shuttles.
I'll go to Kwaj
     like I always said I would.
Crescent island and
     windside waves.
Bicycle rush hour.
Coral sand and coral reefs.
I'll go to Kwaj.

You leave behind unknown tears.
A hole in your room.
A space at the table.
A green apple in the fridge,
And a thought in the freezer still thinking of you.
Eight pairs of forgotten socks in the laundry.
You leave one friend at the movies,
     another at the gas station,
     and a third buying tacos and ice cream.
And you think you'll go back.
And you'll try all your life to go back.
But you'll never quite get there.