A beehive displaced
Shrouded by passion flowers
As humans walk by

Sap bleeds from tree
Purging as it witnesses
A blanket of leaves

Tiny tomatoes
Sunlit, ripen on crisp, green vines
Trampled by footsteps

A heap of restaurant chairs
weighed down the old red Chevy truck
criss-crossed by a nonsense of bungee cords

What a heap of sadness
weighing the workers down
criss-crossing each other in masked silence

The sad eyes of the restauranteurs
as the weighed down truck pulls away
with their hopes and dreams, silently

Eyes resisting tears
pulling at all the strength they may have left
hoping their home isn't next

It's a tearful Christmas despite all the good cheer
leaving behind hopes and dreams in a viral haze
it's hope that makes a home; money, only a house

ZzzzZzzzZzzzZzzzZzzz
It was the key of E
ZzzzZzzzZzzzZzzzZzzz
punctuated by the coloratura
of exuberant birds
greeting the morning sunlight
as the bees rushed from flower to flower
zealous to drink in the nectar of a new day

A leaf blower pierces this subtle but mighty symphony
Why can't we just allow the wind to blow the leaves?
Still the bees ZzzzZzzZzzz
Still the birds rival the greatest sopranos
And I pause
What am I adding to this grand opus?
Am I in harmony?
Am I the din?

ZzzzZzzzZzzZzzzZzzz
And we keep buzzing, humming, singing
As this little planet turns, ecstatically
In a symphony of galaxies and stars
Basking in the dayspring sun

All customers are required to wear a mask
except
Steve, Yuri, Pablo, Kevin, John, Roy, Bill

All customers are required to wear a mask
except
Mary, Irina, Maria, Karen, Joyce, Tasha, Jill

All customers are required to wear a mask
except
my cousin, my uncle, my grandma, my dad, me, all our dears

All customers are required to wear a mask
except
those we deem immune from our fears

All customers are required to wear a mask
except
when it's inconvenient and uncomfortable to confront others

All customers are required to wear a mask
except
when we're too busy burying our mothers and brothers

I called
and all I wanted to hear
"I am so glad you called"

I called
and all I wanted to hear
"I was hoping you would call"

I called
and all I wanted to hear
"I've missed you"

I called
I emailed
I texted

It hurts
it hurts so much
it hurts too much

Too many days
have gone by in worry
too many nights
in nightmares

Too many afternoons
in soppy tears
too many mornings
with short breath

There are no happy endings
only endings
only means to an end
only dying to live
beyond our means

Little beads on a necklace
blue, high energy, anxious

Little beads on a necklace
a rainbow of moods

Six or so beads a day
down, angry, elated

Little beads on a necklace
such are my moods

If only I could have
the good without the bad

If only I could have
the sweet without the sad

But then all the pearls
would be one color

Little beads on a necklace
are who I am

I picked up a rock 
from the bed 
of a rivulet
slowly trickling, yet vibrant

It wiggled
It squirmed
in transparent
vulnerability

A larval miracle
clinging to life
pulled from the mother river
exposed to the cold air

This tiny force
is just as alive
as me
and perhaps more so

I placed the stone 
back into the trickle
of the river
hoping it lives

How much compassion 
do we have for the smallest
of the small
the beginnings

How much compassion 
do we have for the vulnerable
for what's just beginning to grow
ideas, people

How much compassion 
do we have
to put the stone back
rather than take it for ourselves

Today, I walked
along a river girded by concrete
as fall's cold hand caressed the sage nearby

Today, I walked
among hundreds of shades of sepia, brown, vermillion
as I heard my footfalls distinctly, with no green, dewy foliage
to soften my heavy steps

Today, I walked
among the surrendering of Naure
to  fall's cold hand, which caressed the sage nearby

What parts of me are dry
What parts of me are brown, with no verve
What can soften my heavy footfalls

Today, I walked

Autumn wants attention today
as she tosses leaves
into cool, crisp air

Autumn wants attention today
as my flip flops are thrown
off my porch
into a pile of crunchy leaves

There is a chill 
It makes me awake, more prescient

There is a chill
Have I prepared?

Autumn wants attention today
as she tosses what's no longer needed aside

We're all mad here
the day you accept the bier
the moment you accept the fear
you understand, we're all mad here

We're all sad here
all is sorrow, a single tear
there is no tomorrow,  no home pier
you understand, we're all sad here

We're all angry here
all is lost cause, so strange, so queer
all is far, yet so near
you understand, we're all angry here

As a white rabbit dashes by
As a time flashes by
Late, late, late
for nothing and everything, too late

I am not the black sheep
I am not the odd duck

I am not the rebel child
I am not the prodigal daughter

Who am I then?
Well...that's a complicated question

I am not your archetypes or storylines
I am not your bad decisions or projections, your should-s

I am
I am what I will be

I am the technicolor, intergalactic unicorn
I am the pearlescent being of divine light

I am the Angel of Death of Dead Tradition
I am the she-Moses getting out of a desert of lies

I am
I am what I will be

Today, I am choosing
today, I am choosing to create me in lieu of inheriting "me"

Choosing well
choosing better

Choosing wiser
choosing more joyfully

Today, I am the randy interstellar unicorn
blazing a neon rainbow trail forward

A hard reset
Just turn it off
and on again

A reboot
Control, alt, delete
and then the task manager

A factory restore
A blank screen
a fresh start

Tabula rasa
The clean slate
is a myth

We come in to the world wailing
Live wailing, or wanting to wail
and then the death rattle

Yet, in a world of robots
Fluorescence and computers
we long for that factory reset

The great do-over doesn't come
The ability to create anew arrives every moment
We choose it or we don't

Control, alt, delete
Should be
Surrender, function, create

Clean my cache
Delete my history
surrendering to the mystery

This human doing needs a reboot
An upgrade, if you will
to being a human being

I did errands today
and I was confused

Something was wrong, astray
I mused

I settled into the evening quiet
And my disquieted soul shouted

"The flags were not at half staff"
As the West Wing staff and Cabinet was trimmed by half

Yesterday, Congress was sieged by riff-raff
45 egged them on

Congress counted the Electoral votes
but our troubles are not all gone

Today, I needed to see that flag half-mast
My grief begged for a symbol against the bombast

And yet the flag waved, full staff, as if nothing and no one mattered
And no one has said a word

The hospitals full
The ambulances all gone
My heart empty
My trust gone

The hospitals full
The ambulances all gone
The doctors and nurses maxed out
Can life still go on?

The hospitals full
The ambulances all gone
The morgues and mortuaries over-spilling
In the City of Angels and lost souls

The hospitals full
The ambulances all gone
I wear two masks, a smile and one of cloth
Life must go on

The hospitals full
The ambulances all gone
As ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three
Happy new year?

In the City of Angels and lost souls
The hospitals are full
The ambulances all gone
as we ring in a "new" year and life must go on

The hospitals remain full
The ambulances still gone
as one, two, three, four, five, six friend and family we bury
as living death still stalks on

My birthday is on the 19th
it'll be a riot
the next day, they say

My birthday is on the 19th
the rioters won't be quiet
come what may

My birthday is on the 19th
I'm not adhering to my diet
that bittersweet day

My birthday is on the 19th
I'm not so happy about it this year

My birthday is on the 19th
the next day fills me with fear

My birthday is on the 19th
can't be near those I hold dear

My birthday is on the 19th
it'll be a riot, they say
come what may, the 19th is my day

January girl
eyes wide with hope

January girl
smile once wide with joy

January girl
where are you hiding
and why

January girl
will you tell me,
trust me

January girl
the winter will be over soon

January girl
I have a fire lit for you
come inside or let me in

How do I love you?
I obsessively read
Pisces love horoscopes
though I am a Capricorn

How do I love you?
I vividly imagine
our colorful future together
though I know it's unlikely

How do I love you?
I unhesitatingly take
your jabs at my best efforts to please you
though I know you're projecting

How do I love you?
I ask myself, constantly, repeatedly
why my love for you isn't enough
though I do know the answer

How do I love you?
I incessantly interrogate myself
a beggar for love, begging away
though there's a treasure trove inside of me

How do I love you?
as I look longingly at my reflection
at the woman who is still learning to love herself
though her soft, open  heart has  be restrung like a treasured violin

A piece
of a ouija board
sits in the Los Angeles River
as the inky crows squawk nearby

I pace
along this polluted trickle
of a river
as the crows flutter by

Apace
a runner darts near
without his mask
I shudder

Ashes
ashes
we all
fall down

Great, Merciful Destroyer,
your mercy is abundant, overflowing in your devastation
as the dross is cleared

The time of great surrender is here
It is today, now
And, like a lover, I yearn to surrender
I yearn to let go

In your magnificence,
only the raw, unvarnished, pulsating, living truth remains
All else is dross  
All else is no-thing
All else is glimmer, not gold

Great Merciful Destroyer,
please give me the courage to witness
the destruction that creates
that fire that cleanses
the truth that liberates

Never enough
is a pit
you scream into it
it echoes

Never enough
is a hunger
it growls and growls
twisting your stomach

Never enough
is a sadness
of always coming up short
even when it was enough

Never enough
is a lie
that we all hear
and all listen to

Never enough
Enough
No more
Enough

My feet were too big
so the glass slipper wouldn't fit

I hated housework
so no band of merry dwarves

I had frequent nightmares
so no peaceful sleep interrupted by a chaste kiss

I liked my hair short
so no prince tugging at my hair

Words, too often, hurt
and I am a bigger beast than any man I've met

No tiara for me
I will settle for a sword

No hero for me
I will be my own hero

No fairy dust for me
I will conjure up my own

Sedition is not just patina-ed oil paintings
mobs not just lithographs
treason not mere fading daguerreotypes

Sedition is chat rooms and airwaves of mistruth and its taintin-gs
mobs are our friends and neighbors turned bands of riff-raffs
treason, the weaponization of dog whistles and stereotypes

Sedition is here now
mobs are the so-called militia of the present
treason is happening now

It will be one for history books now
be present and accounted for
be the United States of America, treading down snakes

We'd be on the list,
he said

In days past,
that list for VIP-s only
was for a screening, a fashion show
A red carpet, a gallery soiree

But days before the Election
he was quietly referring
to a purge list
A VIP of a different sort

We'd be on the list,
he said,
if there was a coup,
for being artistic dissidents

The sun sets in Hollywood
and I'm in the VIP Room
which is my living room
praying, hoping for peace

"Our people don't build fences"
and so
I didn't learn boundaries

"Our women don't talk like that"
and so
I didn't speak up

"Our children are always nice"
and so
I didn't learn where it was healthy to store my rage

"Our family doesn't do things like that"
and so
I didn't have the courage to try at times

"Our roots are here"
and so
I didn't leave with confidence

But....

I built boundaries
and so
I healed

I spoke up
and so
I healed

I raged
and so
I healed

I tried
and so
I healed

I left
and so
I healed

This is the cup of the new and everlasting covenant
Shed for you and for all, so that our sins may be forgiven...

Do this in memory of Me.

In memory of the spooky parochial school halls
In memory of the wizened nuns, quietly obedient
In memory of the over-simplicity of rules
In memory of false piety laced with hypocrisy
In memory of crushing inadequacy

Do this, in memory of me, the child.

In memory of the child whose uniform never quite fit
Whose body developed too early
Who had trouble making friends
Who didn't have enough discipline

Do this, do that, don't do this, don't do that
So many tiny rules and expectations
to love, serve and obey

She's a would-be
Disney villainess
a temptress

She's a would-be
empress
a mogul-ess

She's a fear
and she's a longing
distant and yet, oh-so-near

She's a myth
and she's a nightmare
so subtle, yet full of pith

And so unreal
yet in reality, so sad
all because, she's ******* mad

Mad like the full moon
mad enough to tear her hair
don't you stare

Trope upon trope
we lay upon the forbidden woman
the discarded woman without hope

If only we had the eye of compassion
instead of berating her for her passion
we'd heal our lost mothers and daughters at last

A tall, proud 
sunflower
reigns as an empress 
over 
a trickle of a
river

She stands, thirsty
daring 
to live in
barrenness

She is not 
proud
because she is 
exceptional

She is proud
because
she was determined,
audacious

She overcame concrete,
thirst
relying on sunlit 
days 

She overcame man's
concrete
rules for her
blooming

She is blooming
defiantly
regally, in season

She is a 
tall
proud sunflower

Bankrupt of his majesty
the would-be, could-be king
falls into a paunchy old age
Quite literally

He was young once
the would-be, could-be mogul
fell into addiction, hard times
Quite typically

Now hobbling into oblivion
the would-have-been, could-have-been
falls for a younger princess in her thirties
Quite predictably

Standing taller
his would-have, should-have, could-have
falls away in the reverie of romance
Quite nicely for a time

Until his old habits hurt her
his should-be-s apply to her
falling in love hurts them both
Quite a bit

She was young once too
a would-be, still could-be
falling into the trap of thinking time is scarce
Quite often

She's teetering on oblivion
the would-have, could-have, should-have
falling for the allure of what-is-not
Quite hard

A patch of gray hairs dust her widow's peak
would-have, should-have covered them
falling in line with what's expected
Quite easily

Bankrupt of her majesty
the would-be, still could-be queen
rises into a vulnerable middle age
Quite determinedly

Don't burn a bridge
What if it hurts more than a smidge?

Don't throw the baby out with the bath water
Don't understand why you act like such a rotter...

Don't throw away ***** water looking for clean
Why were you so mean?

The grass isn't greener on the other side
Why do you keep wounding my pride?

Just forgive and forget, move on
I still feel like a pawn

Time heals all ills
Your words still give me the chills

Silence is golden
When will I no longer feel beholden?

So many empty phrases, trite words
Do not perfume over these turds

The moonbow reminds me
that everything comes full circle
this New Year's Eve

The moonbow reminds me
that even in the obscurity of night
there are flecks of color

The moonbow reminds me
that even in the fog and haze
there is light to be treasured

The moonbow reminds me
that all things wax and wane
as time passes so slowly, so quickly

The moonbow reminds me
to show my truest colors
in an ink-dark world

The moonbow reminds me
I must choose to see its light
this New Year's Eve

We were startled by the rain
we weren't used to it
the pit pat, pit pat, pit pat

We were startled by the rain
such a long drought
pit, pit, pit, pat, pat

We were startled by the distant thunder
we had been shaken by quakes
but no thunder, not in months, perhaps a year

We were startled by the lightning
its white flash sparking fear and awe
zipping through the sky

Pit, pit, pat, pat, pat
Pit, pit, pat, pat, pat
Flashes and shakes

We are startled by the rain
we aren't used to it
the pit pat, pit, pat, pit pat

There is nothing so trepidating
as the emptiness

The blank canvas
the ghost-white page
the empty stage

There is nothing so trepidating
as the silence

Just looking
eye to eye, heart to heart,
for connection

There is nothing so liberating
as the void

the vast white desert of the canvas
the glaring blank of a page
the unadorned blackbox theater

There is nothing so liberating
as the silence

Just the rhythm
of  beating hearts
breathing

There is
nothing

There is nothing
so trepidating

There is nothing
so liberating