The 2001 Series

The Road to Nowhere

Why is it when I was lost
I felt no misdirection at all
only panic filling my lungs with every breath.
And having found finding myself, alone,
surrounded by unknown uncharted terrain
I am filled with wonder and joyful refrain.


I didn’t know that I was lost

I didn’t know that I was lost.
In intimate rooms, filled with memory laden walls
on floors stained with hunger and desire
I felt empty yet complete.
On familiar streets, chasing adulation
giving my all, being one with all I touched
I felt hollow yet replete.
In homes and conversations
always the center of attention

loud, brassy, bright and always right
I felt the ground parting beneath my feet.
Thinking myself prone to maladies from allergies to depression
I re-enforced my crumbling mind
with food, neglect, and damn the cost
And now I find I didn’t know that I was lost.


Words Unwritten

Today I am throwing away the blank pages of my life.
Years of pages filled with silence
soaked red with unwritten pain.
The whites, the lined, the pastel hued,
the ones I had gathered to fill with my thoughts;
bound in leather or lying separate
sheet from sheet,
each accusing me of the emptiness in its life,
while my life fills, gorges, expands to bursting.
“Rainbow Scribblers” and “Ultra Brite Neons”
deprived of the touch of baby hands,
uncut into shapes to be pasted
or folded and molded to other delights.
Here, some determined to be acknowledged
my name on the letterhead boldly printed,
some with a logo of a dream aborted;
some faded with time, their dates barely breathing;
some loud in their prime, their days fairly trumpeting
looking ahead, to be filled, to be sated:
Naive with the wisdom of youth.

To Erma Bombeck

A mother - a writer once said to me “Do what will endure” and because she was of love and of good humor and because she was of joy and caring for un-met friends. I tried. Now I write and play with my child, who knows not of dirty dishes in the sink, unmade beds, bathtub ring, of dust collecting on oak and maple, of records clothed in other jackets, but gives me of herself her toothless smile and sometimes of her oatmeal.

White dress in the Dark

Inside my body she lives in the dark
which is sometimes a forest that she cannot traverse
sometimes the thickness of tar that she cannot escape
sometimes the dark is in her, sometimes she is the dark
that lives inside my body.

Her frail girl's body, long braids hanging down her back
dressed always in the shattered dress of her last moment
not knowing where she is nor escaping where she is not
wandering the landscape of my body and hiding from my mind
keeping the secrets that have kept me safe.

Inside my body she has lived in the dark for too long.

Is the Wildness to be Trusted?

He is unleashed
like a panther
from its cage.

Bounding all
around me
now playful
now frightful

This power
this love
will devour me.

Just One More Day

I always thought
you would push me
too hard, too far
and I would pick up
and go
leaving you missing me:
too late.
And now you tell me
you may have to go
sooner than you know.
Stay
and let me love you
one more day.

Loved Imperfections

This present perfection that we share
is all the more perfect for its flaws
for they are encompassed in our soft
silent world of loved imperfections.

To Juhi: The Difference You Make

The sunshine's brighter, the clouds are all gone
the air is lighter, the day without scorn
that flower looks happy, which once was forlorn
Nature is bursting quite clearly this morn
since I've seen you.

Since I've seen you my mind's crystal clear
this morning's dew has wiped out my fear
he's close to me, who I hold so dear
love comforts me, be it far or near
your face in my eyes.

Your face in my eyes daily reflects
your love seems to bind and then project
your heart and mind in retrospect
I hold you for life.

I hold you from life's coming disasters
protect you from time, now slower than faster
give you a world of smiles and laughter
leave you with joy on the morning after
the sun shines brighter.