Portrait

an inexorable woman
05.08.06

she enters the
building.

what had
become

a tepid
drone

recoils at
first

sight of the
messenger.

angel of
mercy

branded a
thug

in the midst
of

another perfect
muddle .

concerned, she
intones,

“smoke.”

what is one to do
with

an inexorable
woman?

ignorance threatens her
sanity.

narrowly rejecting
madness

she employs
truth,

“fire!”

as the drone smolders
on

one swift
turn

becomes her unassailable
testament.



endure
05.12.05

pain
pain
pain
rain rain rain rain rain rain

and she
reaches raggedly
like storm fraught petal pink
into the arms of gentleness



time to tilt
Inspired by Emily Dickinson
11.01.06

she sang,
“There’s a certain slant of light,”
a heft in our midst–
holy customs gone awry

will we heed her ballad cry?

mindful of the imperial mantra
journeymen flank formality
with eyes scrunched shut

soul scars invisibly
squelch our earth

weary of this dismal
landscape, scorched
by slanted light,
this mounted rider
joust in hand, implores
“Time to tilt!”



an offering
11.19.06

beside her
an ambling stream

she removes her apron
splattered like an Impressionist’s sunset
with paint

tenderly bathes
her brush
in flowing water

infusing its soul
with color



Someone’s Sister
08.17.05

Somewhere over the hill
after midnight and before dawn
someone’s sister vacantly services
her designated station.

She,

not discerning that customers seek more
than the pale shelter of another greasy spoon,

is about to throw in her towel.

She,

blind to poverty sandwiched
between the orders of displaced persons,

cannot bear the empty pang of prescriptive words.

She,

unaware of souls queuing
at the tips of her fingers,

longs for purpose.

Somewhere over the hill
night after night
someone’s sister at the end of her shift
drives madly into darkness.



The Psalmist’s Arrow
05.06

The psalmist’s words
Rushed in steadily
Soothing a wave worn soul

Gentle goodness set
Upon a breath of kindness,
Serenity’s soothing balm

And I am grateful for her arrow



green gable
02.02.06

a
shock of hair
gone green
high atop
an orphan head
is the gable of her
long forgotten
home



Another Rainfall
10/16/05

Rain was falling
like so many
stormy days she had
endured, so numerous
that she scarcely noticed
water, let alone merriment
tapping her on the shoulder.

Then the boy arrived
bearing a belated gift:

“Look!” “ Look!”
“It’s raining!”

(Elated gestures
cannot be portrayed
with mere words)

Head tilting up, lids tickled
eyes open.

Sweet wetness falling
from the heavens moisten
her world-weary soul with
long forgotten delight.

Will we dare to bolster
people whose gift is
turning joyless heads
skyward?




too many rungs
(based on a true story)
summer.05

rung after rung
one foot up then another
it was going well when
suddenly small legs froze

“GO!”
“I can’t believe you!”

and it’s up another
few rungs dread exuding
from wobbly legs

“GET UP!”

pink humiliation
painted her son’s face


“Listen, we can try the dive next lesson.”

To the coach, “He’s being stupid.”
Turning to her child, “Do it, NOW.”


head hanging, heart sunk
he ascends one more rung
but that is all the small swimmer
can muster before dejectedly
descending the ladder

the ranting mother’s cruel
criticism nears crescendo
as she marches her crestfallen
son toward the locker room



God Bless the Freaks
Inspired by Tom on Oparah’s couch
06.05

He may not be right,
Nonetheless, it took
A freak like Tom Cruise
To stir it up

Declaring his
So called “love”
While bouncing
On Oprah’s couch

Blasting his
Loaded finger
In the face
Of glib lemmings
Set on a fixed course

Outnumbered,
He challenged
Sleepy voices
To rise up and shout

Brazen.
Coarse.
Arrogant.

God made us,
All kinds

And that gives
A freak like me
Great hope.



little boy looks
11.01.04

little boy looks

blown glass moon
and darkness seep through trees
night calls her lights to stage wings

little boy looks

front door moon
like Galileo imagining
a vast round world

little boy looks

back door moon
hangs gleaming trinkets
in the goodnight sky

little boy lets heavy lids rest
nods his sweet head
and drifts to dreamland
cradled by the light of his moon



Lex Rex
04.07.06

Lex Rex wrecks words.
Lex Rex, I am vexed!
Wreckless Lex Rex!

What will Rex wreck next?
Tex Mex?
Sex?

Lex Rex are you hexed?
Can you wreck less, Rex?
Please, wreck less Rex.

Lex Rex gets new specs.
See Rex wreck less.



Hazmat Man
04.07.06

Chemical Analysis:

Unfounded fear
hangs like a toxic cloud
holding her in a
forlorn quarantine

She struggles to sterilize
the situation, all for naught.

Sounds like a job for
Hazmat Man!

He can remove hazardous material
and neutralize that nasty pH
with one flick of the wrist.

So, why not call toll free today?



discretion
1.29.06

for
the capacity to
translate images

liberate
wretched words
without war

pluck
luscious fruit
from arabesque branches

I
will close my
eyes, walk toward

the
shadowy chasm, and
reach for

a
hand to
hold



Peace Dove
Spring.03

Towards home
Picasso’s peace dove
Presses toward promise
And so my heart hopes
Even as haunting images,
Words that do not stand
And crawling contradictions,
Hang as storm clouds
Threatening this New York calm

Towards home
Across the clouds
Black and white blend
Into common grayness
Please dove, Peace Dove
Direct this bird on its journey

Towards home
Simply this:
Courage
In the tangled midst
Of half-truths
And thoughtless knives
To persevere