I’m feeling stressed
Or is it depressed?
Either way there’s a weight on my chest

Weighing me down
Forcing a frown
How and when will I come back around?

Out of this hole
It’s out of control
Trying to manage I go for a stroll

Away from it all
Away from the walls
To sit by the river, and breathe as it whorls

The looming dismay
Starts to make way
And finally I’m feeling like I might be okay

Still feeling so wired
I walk til I’m tired
Waiting until my feelings’ expired

A welcome detox
Now back to the box
The house in itself, a sick paradox

Be that as it may
I’m fine, as I say
I try to forget this is now everyday

I rest my head down
Too many sounds
Lying awake, my thoughts all unbound

Maybe its time for another breakdown...

I have never
borne a child.

But there is
a part of me
that craves
the catharsis
of seeing something
so delicate
and pure
and so much
a part of myself
come from within,
from a place
of love.

Some days
I wonder
how I could have
ever been trusted
to bring up
something so good
(in humility)
with so much beauty
(in modesty)

every moment
it begs
for truth--
how could I not
give this little one
my name?

Other days
the roles are reversed
and suddenly it is
my fears that
are comforted
my tears that
are dried
my passion,
confusion,
or other outburst
borne with grace
on the page--
in these moments
the begetter
is held together.

No,
my children are not
flesh and bone
but rather
heart and soul

and my job
is to prepare them
to go out
and change
the world.

Sometimes I dream of wondrous things,
That flood the room with roaring waves
And cool deep waters of the mighty seas

Neon fish now nest in my kitchen sink
Eels dance along the dining table
From my mouth rise bubbles of blue and green

But other times the ocean spins away down the bathroom drain
Leaving a bristling heat, a cloudless sky
And desert winds that rough up the window panes

Oranges of fire, deep breath of life fire
Leaving spittles of burn on the tips of my nose
As I now travel along the sands, a caravan rider

There are things I dream,
Dreams of such wondrous things
Of colors gold, red and aquamarine

Of dazzling lights that drip from the walls
Soaked deeply into the cupboard,
Filled to the brim, all the halls

Like jewels, the dreams sparkle with life
So unexpected each time sunlight hits my eyes
That all I wake up to, is again
just white

She said she needed
Some me time;
She was suffocating,
Couldn't breathe.
I paid too much attention.
She was right,
Though  pre-conceived.

But now, she seems alone.

Is anybody else
Getting dragged out for walks
Like a dog?
The whole family comes.

"Mum I have homework"
"You have to be active"
"We're in quarantine"
"I don't give a ****, get up!"

A Note From Exile

I cannot go home.
Rather I cannot go where my family lives - that place ceased to be home some time ago.

I was a soldier during the Cold War and my neighbors there have become more like East German loyalists than American citizens.

They surrender their rights without question
They are eager to call out community members on social media for ‘social distancing violations’.
They use shame and ridicule to control others
They applaud the police for keeping children from playing in gigantic public parks
They trust politicians who ignore public defecation and drug use to look out for ’the public good'
They allow themselves to be labeled ‘essential’ and ’non-essential’
They carry ’traveling papers’ in the event that they are stopped by the police
They propagate the most inflammatory statistics without ever validating their veracity.
Because…
They heard it on CNN.

So I will remain 1098 miles away
Zooming
Skyping
Facetiming
Until the contagion subsides

And then I’ll return
To a completely different world.

I feel empty today. Unloved, broken and beat down. I hate this world, I hate this life, I hate my life. Whenever you’re ready, I surrender.

If I could recall every beautiful memory
Including a caress or a hug or even a smile
Maybe, I could forget the pain of day-to-day
If even for a moment

and, so, I wonder why not?
Why can’t we live in the memory of something inspiring and live in the best day of our lives every day, or laugh at a really funny joke
we might remember off the top of our heads,
without it being isolating?

There are films made about those types of moments.
They evoke the same types of feelings through
the framework of nostalgia.
Imagine laying in fresh grass, staring up at the sky and
feeling the coolness of the ground beneath you.

I implore you to try to imagine these things
And to take it as seriously as if you were there
for the moment you fell in love for  the first time.

Bring upon the sunshine