Autobiography of These Hands of Mine These hands have nurtured young, caressed lovers, washed uncounted dishes and pots and pans, hung laundry, washed the body of my deceased mother, held hands of friends, and strangers too, in support during joy and tragedy and they have welcomed…

Boring people, boring lives, boring dates, the city. Superficial cares, and superficial stares. Do you have an original thought? Wearing a mask, playing a part, dinner, dessert, goodnight. “You’re cute,” “You’re hot,” I’d rather be shot. I know what I want, you’re not. Depth, care,…

  Poem 9- Poetry Half Marathon 2015.   Random Thoughts……   My fingers fly over the keyboard. I hear the sing song of the sparrow, one of my songbirds in the background. The songbirds are more hushed today.The weather is warm…the sun is climbing the…

Who do I need to be? Stretching forward a hand to grab, extended fingers clutch many jars on the shelf Which face shall I wear? this one went to senior prom though that one begged to go but would not fit the dress What will…

Look to the lines Not just the brow: Around the nose Beside the mouth Beneath the eyes Even the chin Observe the chin Weak or strong lines? And keep your eyes On the eyebrow The second mouth Speaks what it knows Ignore the nose For shape,…

Even as the cartography of her skin begins to fade, he maps the constellationesque nature of the thousand starred miles between her freckles. Her eyes are moonspill, outerspace, light years scribbled onto parchment. Her lips, the kiss of sky; her smile all the paren -theses…

Pale and spotted with age, marked and ragged each passing day. Perspiration gleens with each new trial. Brow furrowed while hunting in style.   Teeth gleam white in the light of day Jaw squared, he sees his prey. Long dreadlocks flow in the wind. While…

We need more truth in this world. More truth. Real truth. Truth that doesn’t hide behind The spin we have to mind. We need more love in this world. More love. Real love. Love that doesn’t pretend it’s real, Amid the foghorn’s peal. We need…

Her lines had become creases now, Deep caverns of deeply rooted emotion Scarring what had once been pristine skin Each line was a memory, the painful emotional divorce, the lost child taken without a chance to fight, the loss of parents and grandparents that made her…

We need shelter, food, and hope from above. We need desire, motivation, an encouraging shove. We need to own our flaws, take off the kid gloves. We need beauty and joy we can’t get enough of. We need empathy, sympathy, kindness, and love.