An iamb is inherently a paradox of poetry Transparently trochaic, it cannot contain itself. Poor thing, it is Its own antithesis, and as such might be my spiritual synthesis As I am, also, set against myself; depicting what I am not Form fascinates me, yet…

I am the beginning, the quiet one, the reader, the nature-child I am the middle, the striver, the journalist, the professional I am the end, the mystic, the poet, the crone I am here, the desert, the mountains, the sky I am there, the boat,…

At the end of every news cycle, I sweep my mind of the day’s detritus – children in cages, election machines calibrated to confirm our escalating doom, icebergs melting one broken treaty at a time – for a chance to scream out all my responses…

  In the wash of surrounding beauty I am but a frivolous stroke of the brush in the absent minded flick of the hand that holds it or am I? For in the wake of who you were is the truth of who I am…

Of course I am smiling.  I define me. I am a prude that wears the red lipstick that people once considered rude if not on the lips of women with low discretion. We smile together now. Because we know it means freedom…and power. I am…

Daughter, Sister, Woman I am all of these things with out choice, designations from life   Teacher, Mentor, Leader I am all of these things because of need, others views of me   Poet, Artist, Creator I am all of these things by drive, instincts…

I am Em Em the Whim I have fun down at the gym I play catch with Will & Jim I am Em Em the Whim I run circles wide and slim Silly circles in bright and dim I roll and tumble, leap and swim…

It is 9 am- I am a ball of nervous energy. I am a capsule of words, begging to be unearthed. I am the best of friends with paper and pen- I am intelligence redefined, using standards that are mine and not manifested by any…

I am a picture Painted to be perfect I am! A poem… To be told When nothing comes to mind I am… A story always ending But on a happy note I am, A song that is sung Inconsequential times I am- A doll broken…

I am sweating, clammy, nervous. My heart beats quickly, loudly. I’m sure they can hear it. “They are just teenagers.” I am going to throw up. My stomach churns, roils. “Remain calm.” I am getting light headed. Breath in, out, in, out. Quick snatches through…