The Mayflower's Prize

We are pilgrims,
navigating the channels of what will become
familial possession

Each one is mine, mother says...
Each one is mine, father says...

Having arrived or so it seems, to rest in this new country
A map of the beginning tucked in our breast

We have unfolded this land,
plucking from our pockets the seeds of certain destiny,
the genetic markers of both human and soil

We look beyond for strength,
expected guides,
but find nothing

Do we all travel alone at first?

Surely God will send a companion,
a comrade who knows the way

Surely God will send another,

One cannot have war without enemy.

Rounded Nights

Perched in grief, she sat at the edge of the bedA continuous sorrow flowed easily from her lungs

That year seemed a decade really...
A decade where tears sang under my door every night calling me to her side

I was struck dumb at my mother's broken heart
I would have done anything to correct this error,
this miscalculation of our future

But my thirteen years held no education
My education was to follow this decade of a year
I became a daughter wise beyond my father's infliction upon my mother's heart
Wise beyond the belief that restitution would ever be made

Burden Of Substance

The world is emptied of two
Neglect chose their early leave

One in search of ease,
cooked a black tar for her veins

Poisonous soup

Did she know she would drown?

More poison than blood lured her from here


********************************************


One in search of virgin strength,
left the early cure alone

Her lungs grew tight with pneumatic promise
The closing had begun

no recourse

no remedy

Did she know she would drown?

The breath that had carried her, swiftly took her
It was not the same porous air consistent to life

Now we remain, minus two

The Road Less Traveled II...

Spring peeking

An American Education

The blues escorted us into the schoolday
where we assembled

Half poised with blurred eyes and dulled intellect,
drugs in our pockets and knives in our shoes,

we sat

Education as a container does not hold.

Not the dated histories
Not the scientific violations
Not the ancient english

We all planned escape
but instead studied aversion

Disappointment disguised as instruction taught us to hide our gifts and grow the scars of apathy that kept us seated.

A forsaken mass,
unable to disengage.

Two thousand hours given at america's table.

sitting,

starving,

at america's table.

Red Cups

There they hold, two red cups,
red as my hearts vein

Green stock support cups of kissable crimson

From below these vessels call your eyes,
call them into folded hands,
hands that bleed unto your romance

Scissors armed,
you cut this power off at the principle,
so you think

Clutching these kissable reds close to your intention,
your absurd intention

but they burn

burn through your fingers,

your romance,

your shape

Opening your flesh to the possibilities of a heart won

Cutting slivers, silly slivers of desire into perfect, perfect cups

Father Bird

Crow you cockeyed bastard

Unfold the wings that feather your simple heart

Spill those seeds of virtue,
Father Bird

Ripe with faithless lore

Scratch out a path in the dirt for us children,
Father Bird

Dark as you are,

Sharp as you are,

Youth plucks from you,
skill

Your talons miss our flesh

Miss it by a mile

Blue

She whispers above my breast,
I sweat diamonds

With no wind as symphony,
we shake the shadow of a thousand winters
never to ache in a frantic language
or worship a bitter picture away.

How sweet beneath her appetite am I?
Her skin a submission for the seeking
swindling time from sleep

Languid in our tiny blue garden,
may it not be a fancy
but essential music

Walking On Water

They were all lined up,
walking on water.

Waiting patiently for their turn.

Woman and children first.
Woman and children first.

Chivalry is not dead.

On that bitter cold January afternoon
grace was visiting the Hudson.

No Fires,
No Drowning,
No Sorrow.
Not that day.

When each hand reached out for salvation,
never were they turned away or found alone.

They were all lined up,
walking on water.

Patiently each one was pulled to safety

leaving behind a ripple of a miracle.

Angels In The Field

When she left that morningI told her to drive carefully.She smirked.Drive recklessly then, I barked.

Later she called me
I could hear her moaning
and dialing
9-1-1.

Trying over and over again.

I called her name, but she couldn’t hear me.
All I heard was the same three tones

9-1-1
9-1-1

I felt my belly restrict and go cold
Lost out there somewhere was she
Again she moaned.

9-1-1
9-1-1

I hung up.
It wasn’t me she needed.

Later I found out she had flew.
just minutes after leaving me.

She had landed in a farmer’s field.
Hidden from the road.

9-1-1
9-1-1

The angels that spared her, sent for help.They arrived to find her broken

I had barked at her that morning.
Drive recklessly I said.

I threw away her bloody clothes

On my knees…
I thanked the angels who spared her
That night I walked to the field
Under the winter sky
I felt the brush of wings on my face

Our 44th President- President Barack Obama

In Honor Of Martin Luther King-A Visionary and Teacher of Peace

U2-MLK: "1. MLK - U2"

Winter in NJ

A Walk at Dark

I move thru town, gliding on the streets like a 6 year old.
The streetlights create arcs, making the night a strange sort of day.

The snow comes down like rice at a wedding.
Tonight it's easy, effortless.

My breath tells me it's winter but tonight there's a cease fire.
Tonight spring has invaded for a moment.
Just for a moment.

I don't let the ice fool me.
Tonight I am warm,warm,warm.

I move thru town, gliding on the streets like a 6 year old.
No cars, no wars, no talking heads.

Just the sound of my boots and breath.

YES WE DID-LIFE IS SWEET,NO?

photo property of zen cupcake

Tail of an Angel

Go Ahead, Make My Day

SongBird-Written By Christine McVie/Fleetwood Mac

For My Soraya-

For you, there'll be no more crying, For you, the sun will be shining,
And I feel that when I'm with you, It's alright, I know its right

To you, I'll give the world
To you, I'll never be cold cause I feel that when I'm with you,
It's alright, I know its right.

And the songbirds are singing,Like they know the score,

And I love you, I love you, I love you, Like never before.
And I wish you all the love in the world, But most of all, I wish it from myself.

And the songbirds keep singing, Like they know the score,
And I love you I love you, I love you,
Like never before, like never before, like never before

Wintry Enlightment

she will not be destroyed by death

she will not
she will learn all her lesson in a hurry

she will grow fat with knowledge
fat with wisdom born from one good-bye a year

she will accommodate loss,
embracing it's chubby, little form

coddling this grief
a seasoned mother she becomes

born from one good-bye a year

The Espousal of a Friend

My friend is marrying alone

Her mother is too broken to stand by her joy
Her father gives advice best reserved for the town drunk

My friend is marrying alone

She sets her anchor so far from herself,
she floats within her own tide of sorrow

Her beau studies her
He knows if he suffers long enough
she'll catch herself in his eyes and pause

My friend is marrying alone

A wedding of seven day old hearts
cut out in perfect proportion.

A ribbon of need and affection tie the two

My friend is marrying alone,

we throw rice at her feet

Ritual

A Boston wind pulls open our coats with confident hands

We continue, set on our destination

For eighty-five cents,

you can travel to a Pilgrims church
or a Puritan

Are they the same?

The benches are just as worn,
prayers just as ardent

I choose to stand on this trip, my face pressed close to the window

So close to the brief breaks of light...

Above,

Below,

Above,

Below

Finally I move from my metal perch, my companion lifts herself up
we disembark

Our quick farewell is unheard,
our fellow passengers are unknown

Pilgrim or Puritan?

Moderation

when does it begin
the unraveling of a second life?

a mild labor becomes panic
worry becomes plague

the first one unravels slowly,
through callow deceits and little deaths
a finger here,a theft there

a child's heart is more buoyant
than the heart of a second life

a child's heart spins a fantasy around every horror
a woman's heart spins a horror around every fantasy

the first life is loaded with bright light bursting naked into the day
pillows soft with baby powder and saliva

the second life is loaded with daybreak shuttered
pillows soaked with tears and vodka

a childs eye is set on the summer unfolding, pranks to be exercised
a womans eye is set on the clock, games long over

the first life promises shift around every angle

the second life promises transformation,

movement into a third,
the long way home

C.O.D.

A blood red box arrived today,
black satin held it tight

It contained my sins you see,
the devil wrapped them up for me

I opened them with greedy fingers

each one like a jewel...

fancied property,

skinny jealousies,

hardened slights,

perfected thefts of all kinds

After the revelry, I burned the black along with my hair

and the devil went shopping alone

All Hallows Eve

Inside a favorite nightmare
remains this childhood quest...

a piece of candy corn
sweet with the knowledge of escape

Dressing up in our scariest masks
we trick or treat in earnest

Asking each demon who answers our knock
for this precious morsel of relief

We check our bags,
desperate,
all confections falling at our feet

But empty of this silly notion we remain

If we were to feast on this shy treat
would we be sheltered from fear?

Would the dead then come to our
house for Sunday dinner?