It started out huge
picking my tiny daughter up for school on the first
of many many too many days

She would hop on
sometimes begrudgingly
hopping off always joyfully

But as she has grown
that bus has begun to shrink
and become ever so small

That bus seemed plenty big enough
for her and her giant backpack
her crayons and papers

It seemed to be just right as she
continued to board with her novels
and friends

It seems too small now
Too small to hold her and all of her
dreams and ambitions

I no longer see her on that bus
but walking through some bucolic campus
sitting under shade trees sketching

Or stepping off of a busy curb
over puddles and around cars
on her way to a gallery or show

Yes, that bus has been shrinking
and I can't stop it
but I can marvel at how it has changed

Lying in the dark
My mind begins to race

What was left undone?
What do I wish erased?

Each morning full of promises
Not all can be fulfilled

Keep moving forward
The pile on my desk tilled

Little victories
Sudden disappointments
Each day a new combination of both

I think I did my best
Try to get some rest

After all Miss Scarlet
Tomorrow's Another Day

Whether your dancing to macherina or the anaconda you should stay true to you

Just because the popular girl side-steps right doesn't mean it's wrong to side-step left

Move your feet to your own beat

People will always Judge you but don't give into defeat

Don't stand glued to the floor  like a statue

Why should they bring your attitude down? Never let them see you frown

dance as you please

Ignore the people who try to tease

Create a new profile
Awkward at first
Anxious to try
Putting feelings to verse

Words dance in my head
Trying to arrange
Make them line up
Bring meaning and change

What is a poem?
What is it worth?
It's just like a dance
Decorating our Earth

Yesterday he asked permission to kiss her.
"When pigs fly!" she said, with a laugh and a scoff.
Today he marched in holding a pig with wings
Duct-taped on (so they wouldn't fall off).

He tossed it in the air, I swear it did fly
I know because I saw him kiss her goodbye.

I think I loved you most the winter your heating was broken
And we’d stay inside all morning
Pretending to complain that we couldn’t get out of bed
Our clothes becoming little islands on the floor,
Ones that we could not quite find the courage to visit

Your hand stayed glued to my hip,
Your breath warming my shoulder
Like a long drag of whiskey
That kind that had a home so far away,
In a glass bottle on top of your refrigerator.
The one that would not be opened
Until that fateful day in February,
When everything went wrong

And on that unbearable night
When you joked that you’d freeze to death if I left you
There was a long silence
Like it might be true.

Now it’s warm enough
That I show too much skin when sitting in bars
And you avoid me like the plague,
Whispering in any girl’s ear that’s near to you
Every time you see me watching out of the corner of your eye

We should have stayed inside when the ice began to melt
Because I think
When those doors opened and we finally ventured outside
The world had changed,
And so had you and I.

My hands died slowly,
with blood vessels surrendering
to the chill.  They turned grey, yellow, lavender,
dusky. Dusky, like the sun had been setting
for hours and I only just realized it.
Pills made them pink again,
but I can’t help but notice
you flex your fingers after we shake.
A cold grip doesn’t suit you

yet. Gloves on, or else I’ll hold the
palm over a light bulb in the bathroom
before running it along his spine.
Blood thinned out to
water, bouquets of nerve

endings wilted.  I lost a piece
of each pinky promise, the weight
of a wedding-band.  Flipping the bird
at the catcallers carries one joint less
meaning, and I have trouble
getting to the point. As I
brush my thumb along my lover’s
wrist, back and forth and back
and forth, I only feel the holes.

Had I told the stars
What I felt for you,
They would fall
One by one
And follow me.

We all live together in boxes made of light.
As our moments pass they overlap,
bundled loose with neon twine.

We all think out loud with minds made of light.
Our most private thoughts escape our heads
setting sail on copper skies.

We all sit together sharing lives made of light.
One family gathered round a global hearth,
texting tales of cyber life.