The diamond crusted band flashes in the eyes of every man.
The property rights the ring creates enhances his life span.
But what for the woman who does all the cooking donning the ring of gold?
While she's crying and multiplying her love is dying and her soul is sold.

Sing a song sweetheart, a nice mellow tune.
I'm hungry for lunch it is nearly noon.
Dinner was great, did you ovulate?
While it is on my mind dessert would be great.

She dresses herself carefully and makes time to appear the thing.
So that all his friends will understand why she wears his ring.

Four o'clock in the morning
Just another night
the candles are now all blown out
there was another fight

Destruction develops hopefulness
that I still know who I am
in spite of every tear that falls
there is a lion inside this lamb

I will be no one's victim
My destiny is my own
My friends will stand beside me
My enemies are overthrown

There are many things in this world I love
Symphonies, poems, cats, the moon above
Day by day I will move in a positive direction
Never again will you hold me down and deny twas your intention

My heart swells with ample room
I shall not close that door
Sadly you have lost the password to enter anymore

Tiny green orbs of vegetable matter
bump and roll spilling forth from
an aluminum container and race around
the dish in happy freedom grateful
for their movement from their dark
dense existence into the air and light.
Little do the peas know the can was
preservation.

Grab a pepsi can.
Crush it until it crinkles.
Now it is garbage.

Retrieve pepsi can.
Reverse all of the crinkles.
Go get your five cents.

When you listen closely in the silence
you realize exactly how very small
the sound that a tiny pin will make
when thrown against a wall.

But what about a body?
When a head smashes with a thud?
"What kind of sound does that make?"
Thought the bull as he chewed his cud.

To think about the thinking
when one has finished drinking-
To see the red light flash
when love turns into ash

To align your mind with your heart,
understand the twain must part.

Gravitate and amplify!
Project the thought and radiate.
Music is mathematics
and dissonance can suffocate.

Prime time, sub prime, lending an ear-
Undercurrents, earthquakes, listening to fear.
Curl your toes, straighten your nose
Don't get so bent out of shape.

Rip the paper, know the raper,
Make the sentence clear.

The muddy footprint holds water still
remaining from the moment when the
manimal stumbled through my garden and
trampled on the violets I planted
violets which have now grown shy-

Toss a penny into the puddle
watch the dirty water ripple
make a wish and wonder when
the garden will be whole again.

insides catch fire and burn,
tumble and turn-
only your torso rides the carousel,
eye-lights flicker
hallways grow longer
the longer you search
down the upside of the floor
and you wanted more?
grab the linoleum fabric
as the carpet changes into
a bottomless cup of custard
the creme brulee holiday
of eggnog spiked with whiskey.

Christmas 2008

FileFactory.com

Your spirit is the consequence of the energy you create.
Music is the end result of love rejecting hate.
Whether harmonies ring in your ear, or discord overtakes,
The composer's time signature stills the water of our lakes.

However deep or shallow, however clear or blue,
no matter if a murky mud distorts its purest hue,
It is the grandness of existence that the universe reveals,
Be it a star or a ladybug, the composer never steals.

Nothing is denied to us, even understanding has been shared.
We were designed with supreme ability and our souls have all been spared.
The only thing meandering is appreciation for this gift,
To inspire our mortal bodies to prepare for the shift.

When we give that which is given in kind-
Absolution is what we find.

Laugh from your belly.
Smile with your eyes.
Sing from your chest.
Scream to the skies.
Listen with your mind.
Jump off your feet.
Swim in the wind.
Drink up the sweet.
Shiver through the snow.
Squint in the sun.
Sail through the mist.
Fly when you run.
Dance in your dream.
Fall into feathers.
Play on a team.
Sleep in the heathers.
Roll down the hill.
Scramble up the tree.
Awaken the still-
Imagine with me.

Remember that moment when you turned me over?
Bent me over backwards and wasted no time?
Like the moment I encountered the piping plover-
Charardrius Melodus Melodus blossomed a victimless crime.
In the sand where the ocean's voice rings,
a mathematician understands The Doppler Effect.
Wave upon wave while the piping plover sings,
Conducingly natural, in wild symphony, now-we simply connect.

at the bottom of the cup the sugar lumps up

On the verge, I think.
Still, how much time?
How many moments can one person waste?
Like the cellphone minutes we never use.

The sense of wasted time
makes little sense to one so busy.
Everyday comes with tasks.
Morning till night, life just is-

Why does my time feel better spent
when I sing a song or write a rhyme?
This is not considered productivity.

Something is pulling me apart.
Forcing me to consider that
what matters to me make not make sense
in a world so bitter.

Where unhappiness outweighs joy.

There are too many who refuse,
Too many who forget someone,
Too many who forget everyone,
For a new t-shirt or the latest compact disk.

Too much time in isolation.
Too much of a certain libation.
Too many echos of sounds we dread.
Too many books are left unread.

Wait- I want a moment to create!

I demand for my dollar and ninety-nine cents...
the penny!

Though it may sound strange,
with great urgency, I want the change.

This winter brings with it many things trapped within the winds.
Catch a cold frozen fresh one that whips a red frost on your cheek.
The slap of the wind on my face kisses me strangely and my
eyes tear with gratitude. It is a cold pleasure that brightens your
eyes. And still, it reminds me that I can feel you when you aren't
even looking.

So what of spring? What of summer? What of the fall?
We sprung, we summed it all up, and we fell.
Winter remains and its cold kisses accentuate
my hot, bleeding heart. I won't forget and I won't
exactly remember. A brand new plant will grow when
this barren season ends.

Kiss me and I swear I'll smile-
If you talk more I will stay awhile-
A midnight's reverie brings to me
The specter of you.

Curling in the softness of my covers,
Our imagination creates two lovers.
The perfumed scent of my pillow hovers,
As shadow alters the temporary hue,

Of astral light beaming through my window.
Our natural intensity did foreshadow,
The moment we will reach a pure human glow.
On what conditions... I do not know

Time slips through twenty fingers.
In the light of day this feeling lingers.

Growl, Hiss, Bristle
Cats tail, Thistle.
Smash, Crash, Glide
Linoleum slide!

High, Higher, Highest.
Kitty hits the top.
Feet, Lap, Chest-
Purrs, Snuggles, Pressed.

Stretch, Claw, Dig-
Mouse, Ball , Twig.
Say, Play, Sit?
Cat nip, Chicken bit.

When does this little rhyme end?
With a head smoosh from a furry friend.

It isn't romance that guides your moves.
It isn't a hot glance that attracts your stare.
How much to gain and how much to bear?
How much freedom do I stand to lose?

It isn't a dream nor a fantasy dance.
It isn't a smile I find on your face.
How much pain if I take the chance?
How much time before the very last trace-

Vanishes

Working toward the dreaming state,
the story spins inside my mind.
Clues are clues and do not obviate
themselves- the answer is yours to find.

Still, now is not the time!

Operator speaking: "the correct time is
Four twenty six A.M."

When I say what I think,
I forget to think about what I'm saying.

So lost in the thought, the moment,
the birth of a dream, the death of
the second to reconsider the stream of
words to describe the emotional
birds that fly from my mouth with
featherless wings- like bats.

When you expose what is in the dark,
The light cleans away the haunting thought.

A new perspective has room to thrive,
You realize you are still alive
inside.

When we live with pride in light,
We discover the strength to fight.

I still sing.

Its hard to understand,
when you are a little girl,
the sacrifices your father makes-
for your good, for your family's well being-

You want more hugs.
You want more time.
You want more happy moments with him.

But he is tired and angry.
He works so hard and spends so little.
He worries more than he dreams.

Then one day there comes a time-
When he gives you the world,
The world in kind words, in a helping hand,
With hands he has used to work for you,
All of his life.

In that instant it becomes quite clear,
You are the young woman who holds his heart-
Every correction and every redirection
came from pure love.

From then on you will spend many days,
Searching for the chance,
The opportunity to achieve what says,
Daddy, I love you too.

What do I hear in the words you say?
Words that make my face flush-
What do I hear in the words you say?
Words that make my heart rush-

Something in their inflection,
Confounds my intention.
Something in their tone,
Makes me happy I'm alone
With you.

What do I hear in the words?
A breath that drives my mind-
What do I hear in the words?
Freedom was hard to find
Till you.

Happy Friday

I fidget with the keys in my hand as I walk the long hallway.
These last three minutes before I enter the door are most hard.
On the other side two happy cats race to the entry way.
I peek in to make sure they are not too close to the door.
I walk into familiar surroundings and felines fall at my feet.
They expose their soft fluffy bellies for a tickle.
I am welcomed home.

I walk through the entry way and drop my purse and case.
I lose the jacket and the heels and drop the keys on their hook.
I find softer things to wear and a pair of squishy slippers.
I take off my make up and brush out my hair.
I think about dinner and my husband's appetite.
At last I sit down and chat with you.
And I am welcomed home.

I begin to cook the evening meal.
I straighten things here and there.
I entertain myself and wonder which minute he will arrive.
He walks through the door and we kiss hello.
He loses his jacket and shoes for a hoody and slippers.
He sits down to eat the dinner I have made.
And I am welcomed home.

The rain pours down upon my head
I laugh and run for cover
I am too grown up for rain soaked hair

Standing in the archway of the bagel shop
I remember when I could stand
in the rain with my mouth open wide
and have a drink with God

I wait for the rain to subside
So I might continue the day's business
But when the day is done
Ill stand naked in the shower
And pretend I'm laughing in the rain

The cold slush slides down my throat.
The plastic tube goes flat.
The liquid turns my lips purple.
And my brain begins to freeze.
No matter, the Ice Pop keeps my heart warm.

Clickety- clack
fast track
boom

Hit the key
Creepity-Speakity
room tomb

Sound the alarm!
It is morning.

I wished upon an asteroid
I slathered frosting on a void
it is amazing the tricks the mind can play
when one walks naked in midday
it is at night I'm fully clothed

In the midst of a war
on foreign soil flowing oil
amid mountains of pages
one does toil
the questions are never answered fully

In the dark on familiar ground
grown children's games are abound
mad delights to an Alice song
how could such sweet intensity be wrong
to live here requires concentration

where freedom loves in nano-speak
a prison world where rotted floors creak
confines my brain to long for yesteryear
do you hear me? say yes my dear.
My kitten taught me how to pray

In my mind I'm dancing always
leaping the cracks and diving deep
into a cavern full of milk
where teacups dare not steep
In reality i'm reading sideways

Binary is a language I do not know
milk is not as white as snow
disparity is a reality that will surely grow
between the two who dare not glow
nor show, nor say, nor see,-- anything they mean to me

Once I dared a little bird
To grasp my heart betwixt his toes
And fly into the wind without further word
To whence my love should go

The little bird flew around the world
And landed in this very spot
Delicately he passed to me
My tattered punctured heart

Together the bird and I long stared
And wondered what went wrong
We learned that love could not be dared
But must be seeded with a song

If you dare to send your heart by wing
First make sure you learned to sing

She stood there looking in my eyes.
In an instant I saw how wise
And how determined she was.

I read her book,
heard her husbands lies,
I knew her rook,
would claim the prize.

Democracy is more
than voting for the boy next door.
As I watched my coffee swirl,
I knew our President would be a girl.

Morning dreams
between the seams
of my mind and yesterday
create my fanciful escapes
from the dark which came to play
In the middle of the night I saw a mare
who would not let me run
And so in the light
these dreams will fight
to allow my heart some fun!