I’m not a fan of introductions to literature.  I figure the piece  ought to speak for itself, but I want to offer a kind of apology for this one.  I tried some 12 step meetings, even led a co-morbidity group for addicted mentally ill folks…

Looking for an arrow Which can penetrate Darkness of my mind Making that arrow With my anger , hurt and pain Transforming them Into one By single pointed Concentration Into focused, Sharp and errorless Target Which I than Shoot by not Shooting into Deluded clouds…

What is this masochistic urge, This strange compulsion to ignore important biorhythms, Walk this jumbled path As if the sacrifice of time and inspiration weren’t enough As if the eyelids of the mind’s eye haven’t closed and given up We stumble on With leaden limbs…

“The night is for sleeping” they told me Little did they know, I was working through divine decree Burning the midnight oil, I was setting my thoughts free I was letting my stories see And it is in the darkness that I could best be…

I know. Two haiku in a row. And, I cheated a syllable on the third line. Cousin Lymon’s phone ringtone: Kanye West’s “Mercy,” startles Amelia.

Blinded by the courtesy of a folk She danced together with them. Laughing at their jokes, for all that was actually her. Its time to be parted, for this time, or maybe forever Two-some jerked her right, attracts her eyes, and was left au fait…

The night is for sleeping. Unless you are an owl on the hunt, Or a bat out for a nighttime flight. The night is for sleeping. Despite the howling winds, And thunder rumbling everywhere. The night is for the sleep. As I scoff at the…

He remains our joy, our sole consolation He protects us against disappointment Alongside us He stands in all weather We are His reason to live and to die Our delight is His favor We are His sole prize and pleasure We cannot let him lose…

You walk in wearing a blue dress, a braid trailing down your soft back, you sit several booths away from me, I can hear your voice like a soft whisper of a song I don’t know, But I must learn, your voice– rhythmic, drawing all…

Soaring high in the big blue sky You smelled like adventure with a quiet smile and aviator glasses We all waited and anticipated Eagerly awaiting Tales of travel and mystery One day you never made it home Nothing was returned I will never trust airplanes