Drinks, drinks and more drinks down my throat
To feel some sort of nausea like I’ve been rocking on a boat
Just for the moment of absolute alcoholic rejoice
To dance, jump and yell out every bit of your voice
To be like some sort of euphoric paradise
The pain of it faded away is for later to realize

Well, did you know that your eyes are mighty beacons?
Great flickering flames of an artist's soul?
Did you know that when I saw you first I felt you, wildly?
Felt a gentle steward of poems among us, a river voice renews.

One utterance from you has me above my tiny tempests,
I've been pleading, even prayed (though out of practice) for more words,
But your words, only your voice! Which has me falling into tension,
And godsent, glorious tension ensues from your stark frequencies.

Rejoice, I do now rejoice and it feels like for the first time,
Surely not? And you can't know but I just cried for our distant meeting,
It is as though a veil is lifted, a dam destroyed, a collapsed ceiling?
But now a fear, such a quiet terror that I may not hear you again.

dancing in the kitchen
in pajamas

Jazz on while
the third downpour before
the end of the year
strips the buckeye of all its yellowed leaves

As
a well watered body
worked with the waves
and the strange freshness
of just a little water up the nose

throwing your hair
when tea sounds like the best idea during a storm
And finding your favorite cup in front after opening the cupboards

As
planetary bounty saying
“It’s your turn”

It’s when
all the kings unite
and rejoice for poppies in full bloom
Innocent, and dangerous

Oui, je m’aime
Oui, moi même,

en fait…

I lift up my thoughts
I lift up my voice
I see so much
That makes me rejoice

The sky - the trees
The food on my plate
The freedom I know
To choose my fate

The air I breathe
My mind - my choice
I see every day
As cause to rejoice

Nationally we rejoice at the drop of the sun,
Sending explosives that dazzle the skies in parotic hues,
Silenced are the fears of the weary who cower in the corners of oppression and differential treatment,
Misjudged are the BIPOC who do not mirror the sentiments of the majority,
Forgotten are the fallen who lie in unmarked tombless foregrounds, Be cautious of the realities faced by the neighbors hidden in solitude, Be mindful of the friends who decide to stay indoors,
Be compassionate for our nation is hurting,
Though mass media may have muffled their cries,
Their lived experiences echo at an amplitude regarded by the awakened.

Free of fears, free of tears
I wander freely
And happily rejoice with materialistic things
Gleefully denying the fact
That death doesn't rejoice with me

Can we celebrate, do we have that choice,
to fight against sour momentum and rejoice?

Of course we do - there've been vaccine changes,
hope hangs like fragrance, so let’s be courageous.

Forget anger, forgive old grudges and stop tiring judgments,
catch those old phantoms in the open and sever the attachments.

Stop, drop and roll - this year necessitated endurance -
be honest and transparent, tell children and inform parents:

This year’s celebration will need to be realistic -
but Christmas '21 we’re goin’ BALLISTIC!

I am stuck in the trappings of poetry.
I have an exam to answer at 8 am.
I read and rejoice.
But I am sure
that I'll be overwhelmed
by regret in the morning.