Why do I write?
This you ask me.

These things you should ask:

Why did my father hate,
Spew spiteful slander over dinner,
So often erupt in rage,
Hammer, pound me
With words like nails,
Make me small,
Frightened always.
Ask the size of his belt,
The feel of his fingers
At my throat.

Ask why Mother
So often confided
I shamed her,
Embarrassed her.
Ask why,
When women came
For cards, drink and laughter,
I hid beneath my bed,
Stopped up my ears
Against their cackles
Down the hall.

Why do I write?

Ask why the Sufis found me,
Why in traveled towns
Bookstores bade me enter,
Where the sweet scent of baraka
Would lead to a single perfect text
Upon a shelf.

Ask the purpose of
My existence.
Sufis suggest
We were given Life
Such that through our eyes
The Creator may view
The beauty of all she created.

Then ask why I write.

Ask
What is family?
My entire life
I have searched for such
To call my own.
You, you are family.
Am I not like you,
You like me,
Awake in the Night
Fitting words
Here, there and there,
Fitting pieces of life to a page,
Hoping to fit  beauty
To one another’s hearts.

Now ask why I write.

I write for myself.
I write for you.
I write for God.

I watch,
For I am you
And you are me.

I watch.
I dive, I surface,
I spin the horizon round,
Yet round again. Sky wide
I stretch my arms, my eyes,
My very Heart for you.

I watch.
I know your pain,
The tattered, little scraps
Of memory, the
Longing, oh God
The longing for our long lost
Home.
Did we not polish our hearts
To sacred chalice,
Pray and sing
Each ancient chant?
Now,
Like sounding whales
We stink of sorrow.

I watch.
I know the moments
Fierce yearning gnaws the gut.
Walking sticks you gather,
Wind and water silvered,
Wood turned twin to
Our own bones of stone.

I watch,
Let loose a tear.
You check your pouch of Medicine,
Your hoard of magic words.
There are fallen stars For Beauty and for Light,
Shark teeth and lobster claw
For cutting and for pain.

I watch.
The ceaseless longing
Pulls you from the Sea.
You climb the sands,
Climb from sight,
My wandering pilgrim
Leaving sacred word pagodas
Upon the foreign land.

I watch.
This day do not die into the Night
That passes into Light.
Return to me,
Return to us.
We are all but little waves
Rising and falling in and out of
That great ocean of all,
That ocean of Love,
The One.

Return Adriana.
I am you.
You are me.
I will touch your hair and
Whisper in your ear.

I will sing to you like Orca.

Sweet begins the heart's embrace,  
Joyful chatter, a fleeting grace.  
Chewing truths, the zest will fade,  
Echoes linger where bonds were made.  

Tasteless whispers haunt the air,  
Once was vibrant, now laid bare.  
People’s sweetness, a transient art,  
Gone, yet sticks to the waiting heart.

I’ve got a pen
With miles of ink
More than I have
Things to think

Long distance, operator calls
I’m holding the line
Pen in hand
Writing rhyme to rhyme

You don’t know me
The cynic I am
Rolling all wide open
I don’t give a ****

Here it is, the truth beholds
You’re no different than me
Looking for all those things
Only a heart can see

9/12/25

I couldn’t even afford our first kiss;
in a rented car — it happened quick,
a cheap love on borrowed time,
but we drove it anyway.

Our hands on the wheel felt like
promises, turning too sharp, we
were never licensed to keep it at all.
The engine of us coughed with hope,
the brakes already weak, but still,
we sped down that one-way road.

                    Speeding too fast.

Every glance—green light.
Every laugh— a corner I couldn’t steer.
Too single; really a turn we didn’t signal.
Love in motion— but emotions unstable,
trying to stay alive.

And when your breath touched mine,
it wasn’t just a kiss— it was the impact,
the sound of an airbag failing, two crashing
hearts colliding into the wall of something
neither of us could truly own.

The irony is: it was the kind of wreck you
never want to walk away from

Two dogs
Ones a guest for a few days
Two cats
Neither are ours, not phased!

Poo on the floor ( guest) last night
Alright
I cleaned and disinfected
It’s gone
This morning
*** all over the kitchen floor ( guest)
Thank goodness it’s ceramic tiles
Wiped up and disinfected
I’m done

Cats turn, I discern,
Puke all over the floor by the living room door
Thank goodness we have a laminate floor
What’s more I do adore that laminate floor
Cleaned up disinfected
I’m done
And it’s only breakfast time
I’m right put off
But
We love them
I’m done

This morning
I brushed the dogs
I brushed the cats
I cleaned the floor
I fed the cats at 5 am
Walked the dog
Home again when
Fed the dogs
Sat down
I’m done!

Later
I’ll scrub the floors
Wipe the doors
But for now
I’m done!