I won't sit down
I won't shut up
To be quite honest
I'm fed up.
I have a voice,
I will be heard
And when I speak,
you'll wait your turn.
I may be small,
but my thoughts are loud.
My words have power,
of that I'm proud.

I only want to be
a flower in your garden;
I would never dare
to dream of being the garden.
Only a perfect man
would hazard that.
   ~mce

I see you sitting
on the red bed
drinking Retsina
against the white wall
where we had
drawn hexagrams,
in your black slip
smiling up at me
in the pellucid
Greek light.

Since that moment,
Forty-five years
have dissolved
like tears
in a hurricane.

You are only a
ghost who smiles
in my memories.

I never thought
I would find another
woman like you,
strong and complete.

But I have travelled
far and long
and like magic,
here she is.

Thank you for saying
that one day
I would know love
because I was worthy.

And you went away,
and  she is here.

Ghosts always
tell the truth.

If you are patient.

I approach calm
Uninvited
Yet your arms stay warm and wide
I'd rather not remember their weight
Instead I run and hide
You peel me back like banana skin
Yellow, yes, with sunshine
Please spare me words of comfort
I'd rather you stay benign
We are but two quasars
Spinning with flashing solar light
Compared to dawn and dusk
Our polarities reside with the night

We were walking on the lake
trying to get to the mainland—
(Your cabin had burned down)


*"the road home
isn't paved
but the highway to your eyes
is."

i stay up late, lately
waiting for the day when i call you the wrong name—
the wrong syllables in the right mouth.
because that's the way i was taught
and this is the way i will teach you.

you invite
the cut,
you know you do

bloodlet come
dust off those bad humors
that have already won

one
incision
on the inside of inner-thigh,
nicely
neatly: remedies indecision for a wee bit
doesn't it?

confirm that silly string
and pipe cleaners
aren't reeeally your insides

lifely! lifely! qualifies your moves
in this
thing
this
****** sadwhirenoughenough

you jus
Buddha the hurt afterward
but emptiness of being always keeps
a few of your you's and me's around
ricocheting off far unkempt corners

like me, the pigeon
and you, the squirrel

...

look, they've already won, my love;
no,
they -always- have already won
so, plz, don't k?

jus don't

don't assemble upright-me as your
night-n-shiny handle

don't fix me la-la opposite his hard gleam
his trite inky blah bodkin Brahmin to my Bodhisattva
i can't, won't do it anymore,
my core torpid
Luke Skywalker warm

flourish, thrive, feel alive, lithe
your i, inebriate of the everyday
simple simplicities

dare pirouette through danger, confident not cocky

empath and convey other's anger to solid ground
become the stream