Being we with
November 17th, 2021

It can be a cold solitary world
but sometimes we are blessed
with people we can be we with

the sparkles and starlight
normally hidden inside
can burst out in dazzling displays

these lonely souls in all of us
can be seen for a brief moment
be known by another we are we with

some of these we may last
but most don't
seems to be the sad fact

so I wish moments of being we with
for you and I and we
moments we treasure and hold onto

for those long years we are we without
waiting for the alignment of the heavens
for a moment again of being we with.

Moments in my day
written August 7th, 2021

1.
I wake up
and look out the window
at the morning sun
shining through the leaves.

I look out the window again
and it is the dusk sky of day's end.
The day has gone somewhere
to someone.

2.
I sit and stare out the
half-circle window.
Somehow I
have arrived here
so I stay.
I'm not sure
where or when I am.
I don't move.
I wait for someone
to say it is ok
and hope
they don't notice me
if it is not.

3.
I am writing
about touching a man.
I write: "I grab him by the...."
and stop to think about what word to write.
One of the others inside boisterously says
It's an ***, grab him by the ***
it can't be those other words,
grab him by the ***!
I blush and don't write
"bottom" or "*****" or "buttocks"
I write: "I grab him by the ***."
The other is satisfied
and lets me continue on my own.

4.
I am suddenly in the body.
I am in bed with a man.
The others don't let me out
if it is dangerous,
so I smile and say "Hi."
He does *** things to me
and it does feel good, I think.
He has learned to say,
"Are you ok?" every few minutes.
I say, "Yes, I'm ok."

5.
I look through my binder of poems.
I know it is me writing here every single time.
I recognize the handwriting,
but even if it is dated yesterday
I don't remember writing the words.

6.
I am inside and hear
one of the others
I share this body with
giggle.
I come out to note
that I do not giggle,
because I do not giggle!
Then I go back inside
letting the one who giggles
giggle and be herself
in the body we share.

The real me
written July 1st, 2021

I sit on a low bluff
looking out at the ocean in Goa
age 18 and away from home
for the first time.

I can see sitting beside me
a version of me who is
female - compassionate - loving
my skirts and my bangles
the anklets Shankar and Ana gave me
soft and round and surprised
I want to be intimate with a boy.
This is the real me.

I see sitting on the other side of me
another version of me
who is sure they are the real me
male - logical - unemotional
calm under pressure.
My life is planned out
I will be an engineer like my uncle
interested in ideas and not people.
This is the real me.

Some "I"
sits on that low bluff
and sees both of us
for the first time
and it is a wonder.
There are no words for this yet
but these both are
the real me and in time
we will find more
of us.

This is the real me.

I want
written July 10th, 2020

I want blue skies
and sun on my face.

I want green plants
growing like crazy on the deck.

I want rooms full of books
like old friend and lovers.

I want someone
to wear perfume for at night.

I want to not be scared
lost in the past.

I want to be here now.

I want to always know
that I am home and whole.

I want all parts of me
to realize their dreams.

I want to be known.

I want to never stop wanting.

I want to want.


What do you want?

I don't want to
written March 14th, 2021

I don't want to
is the poem that doesn't want
to be written today
I don't want to
think write cry.

I look through
my unfinished notebook and
I don't want to
process revise reveal.
I don't want to!

I don't want to write
the same words
again and again
these same things
battering at my mind
day after day.

I don't want to pretend
everything is beautiful
just (pretend to) be happy.
I don't want
to be here lost in my head.

I don't want to
is the poem
that wants
to be written today.

~white clouds nesting dark rocks
—Cold Mountain, The Collected Songs of Cold Mountain

Dark rocks
written November 7th, 2021

Dark rocks rest
in a river bed
as rushing water
froths white in agitation
over their dark peaceful presence.

Dark rocks steadfastly witness
fish tails flickering
velvet deer noses drinking
and cicadas singing
as the moon sets
and the sun rises.

Nothing is lost.
Nothing is wasted.
All is known and seen
somewhere
in the depths
by dark rocks
resting.

together again
written November 9th, 2021

the terrifying silence
crashes around me
I'm afraid I will
be broken into pieces
that can't be put back
together again

I've done this before
pieced myself
together again
but I get so tired
of the fear that the
breaking will never end