THE BUFFOON Every time I see him, I writhe from within. More so, than the chill I get from disappearing glaciers. He is a no man, a figment of his own manipulation. A wart of a human being that entangles his prey in a twitter of lies.  …

I sit here inside this memory surrounded by things I thought I knew. Superman capes and detective eyeglasses I never knew the secrets you kept. Those dark shadows that lingered behind you when you would go quiet and blank. Today I heard the truth about…

Pregnant Pause   I awoke in an unfamiliar vehicle, with my husband at the wheel As we drove, my life-filled belly swelled to greater and greater proportions, each change in size bringing with it a different person in the driver’s seat The further we drove,…

Quieting my mind I tune in Connecting with my deepest Self I listen with an open heart No judgement, only Love Listening for guidance Trusting what I hear Knowing that I am always connected To my divine Source And so Wisdom flows to me with…

Look how the barnacles made a skin for the corpse of that ship and you will see real power. Open yourself wide to the government of nature. You cannot rule over the sea or even over the arches of the strangled monastery, who lost religion, not…

Anxious to see you Nervous about the day Goosebumps head to toe as I think ahead Suffering as time all but stands still Tremble because you are in trouble. The good kind

My first hitchhiking trip was from Toronto to Cambridge. 10 rides. 18 hours. With my long hair, beard and back pack I blended in easily with the other hitchhikers. The drivers were mostly lonely salesman, who needed an audience. My role was to listen, almost…

My Monkey I once moped my way through black-clad days, trudging, head down, hair in my face, contemplating why I hated me in flowery, overblown prose. The angst monster rode my back, teen version of a drug monkey. Feeling downtrodden was my drug of choice.

I remember the nights you use to love me without distraction The days you were relentless with your passion for us I remember the fairytale you planned out And I remember the day you tore it apart I blamed myself For the destruction of the…

The photograph – it’s crooked They’re sitting on a balcony at dusk, it’s a café in Krakow the layered dessert in the center of the table with sharp-sided precision of geometry. But their faces are soft, enjoying the adventure of new love on cobbled side…