Yawning little tiger Curled up by the pool Starts to grr and rumble Like kitty on a stool Meanwhile a lion rawrs Tired on its face Matching me extensively 4 hours til it wakes  

I remember this day with grief, a great contradiction. A part of me is bound for every year I become older. With each passing hour, I bid farewell to the embrace of youth. To commemorate this birthday, I grieve the loss of my previous flower….

Running through my head Like all the things you said And all the things I failed to Simulation shift This is not the time To get caught and phase through   Though I appear calm I’m running right ahead My heart racing At the speed…

SELF LOVE I am a woman I am a mother, a sister, a daughter I love myself, my family, and my friends. I am passionate about many things That is what makes me who I am today I love the way I look in my…

I have run out of routines Waking Up [Is less now like a time and more so an estimate, expansive above all else, who knows how many angles of the sun I will miss in my dreaming] Eating Breakfast [Food, too soon, sits in my…

Running on empty Pre-dawn hollowness A shell of my usual self My words brittle, stilted, halting My emotions devoid of feeling Free-floating angst and anger So great, yet so nebulous. I have no core. My thoughts echo in the vastness as they ricochet between scales…

African myths have many stories of birds loving rest time Loving the taste of worms and insects, and coming down for them. Eneke the bird has learnt to do the extraordinary “Eneke the bird says that since men have learned to shoot without missing, he…

Running a house running up bills running up time running for trains running a temperature running a race running for joy running for office running for your life running their lives running my life when does it stop? Just running ….  

Forest Bathing there comes a time each day, to walk the forest trail. if I should forget, or be otherwise inclined, a warm moist nose nudging my arm, or the deep and soulful dark eyes of one, accompanied by the long low whimper of the…

11pm. Poem 21 Running Running from the flames they lept into the cool blue of Front Street ocean into the smoke covered sea with all the others running.