looking back
we were a myth
children,
playing marbles in the street,
speaking softly as if
words could build a marriage.

she kissed him under no roof,
no thoughts could spring to mind
no code, no written proof
she told him she’s undefined

broken is his design, a world of possibilities
‘now I’m fully mine,’ a mind’s
desirability

The spark
Went out.
His eyes,
Two hollow lakes
Of black ink.
In them swimming
His demons,
Declaring that
They have
Won

I am your canvas,
Paint me with your colors of despair
Because I’m out on my own,
Setting little fires everywhere

Four months
Memory of unfettered times slipping

COVID-19
Plot or wet market accident, world plague

George Floyd
The fuse that lit the yearnings... and burnings

Protests
The righteous and unrighteous, weeping and burning

Rioting
Usurpation of the call to justice for terrorists

ANTIFA
The irony of the name is not misunderstood

Masks
Those damnable masks....

FaceBook
Blue Book for civil incivility

Statuary
Easy targets for cowardly mobs

News Media
Pick your poison; take your sides; everybody lies

Citizens
To fly the flag or to burn it?

Police
To protect and to serve; to spit upon and to abuse

Politicians
Demagogues gone wild

Jesus
"I have told you these things, so that in Me you may have peace. In this world, you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." (John 16:33, NIV)

You’ve stopped talking to me and I don’t know why...

I hate this - this feeling - this anguish, with it’s retinue of mysteries.

Was it something I said? I’m sorry - I curse my rebel lips.

Was it something I didn’t say? I’m sorry - I was the unaware child.

I’m just a girl – not some faultless machine

There needs to be a manual – a manual for... everything - so Id know.

Is there a more contemporary narrative than disappointment at the hands of this Internet plaything - this toy-like trap we hope will inform us and we think we command?

I know questioning destroys some things.. but I don’t understand.

I don’t understand.

I am
fermenting in tedium
emotionally over-reactive
frequently inappropriate
irresponsible but trustworthy
discontentedly powerless
and frequently overwhelmed.

no one tells you
being an immigrant
is being a stallion
front hooves tied knotted
course rope
chaffing at your ankles
holed up in a greener pasture
gnawing at tender leaves
while watching
acres away
those you love
wild and free, wind
whistling against their cheeks,
a throbbing ache to be with them
but knowing you cannot.

steel plates warped
bend with the burden of
dust,
I keep washing
skin wrinkles
weeps
still I scrub
until the plate breaks
the silver scar
lined with blood.
I throw it away,
unwrap a new one
knowing that tomorrow
more dust will come.