ripped wings what you make of faith

*Published in Sonic Boom Issue Sixteen
**Selected for the 2019 Red Moon Anthology

If I May Be Honest

not enough love poems

have been written

for the leaves

sparkling wildly

in golden hour light

or the river’s

tender aria

playing dawn to dusk

simply

for anyone who

wishes to hear

*Published in Fireflies’ Light: A Magazine of Short Poems #17

Why Not

you can be

anything in the world

so why not

be a parachute

covered in the most luminous

warm hues

helping others land

gracefully

after a most precarious fall

*Published in Fireflies’ Light: A Magazine of Short Poems #17

Hummingbird

it must be

how starlight

falls upon this

foreign city

because I tell you

I could roam this earth

non-stop

as the vagabond

I wish I could be

with only the essentials

slung upon my back

and your hand

nestled in mine

*Published in Fireflies’ Light: A Magazine of Short Poems #17

First Snow

when I see

for the first time

each year

the way snow reflects

a shimmering moon

upon a world 

fast asleep

I might as well

be a child again

opening her first present

on Christmas Eve

*Published in Fireflies’ Light: A Magazine of Short Poems #17

avalanche sobering up

*

azaleas opening a hymnal

*Published in seashores, Volume 3

blue

the memory

of seashells

*Published in the November 2019 issue of Stardust Haiku

quiet today

a palmful of stones

skipped along the pond

*

colder now

I sip my tea

with reverence

*Published in Another Trip Around the Sun: 365 days of haiku for children young and old

only silence

could end you

the way

dusk falls

*

uncertain

the crickets hush

hush now

*

the silver behind the wind I never knew

*Published by Weird Laburnum on 11/24/19

handle with care

please

do not incinerate

my remains into useless ash

or mix my skeleton

with the endless fog of layered

earth upon earth

clean my bones with reverence

dust them

shine them like the fine china

families pass down

generation to generation

and then gently use my bones

to drum out 

a rhythm only the sea and sky

could comprehend 

*Published by Poetry Super Highway (Poet of the Week: November 18 - 24, 2019)

wilderness

uncle asks

what I cost

*Published in Bones 18

every road a cliff after the bomb after the bomb

*

skeleton in the cloud I also knew as mother

*

more humanity than humanity late-autumn oak

*Published by Proletaria on 11/14/19

a used copy of e e cummings’ 95 poems 

i love it when a book smells like coffee. smells like cigarettes. like an unidentifiable existential crisis that i just happen to hold in my hand. <<< breathe in. out. again. >>> when the edges are stained and crumpled. smashed from a fistfight with recklessness or passion. <<< those are the same thing, right? >>> if this book could bleed it would. if it could talk it would scream every word at me. and oh God. yes. i would let it.

*Published by Dime Show Review 

bathed in red church bells ring

*

autumn leaves falling into has been

*

in the river drifting through an ellipsis 

*Published in the 2019 issue of Under the Basho (One-line Haiku section)

stigma

i would love to say

recovery has a finish line 

one where crowds roar 

as you break the paper divide 

with arms outstretched 

in hallelujah praise God 

recovery really is 

a thankless job you 

more or less do in the dark 

it’s also a taskmaster 

that waits by your bed each dawn 

sayin’ get up g-damnit 

don’t drown in victimhood 

and when you finally decide to hoist

up that golden survivor flag 

you begin to curse that title 

more and more each day 

all you want 

after all your scars

is to be a human 

free of mark

*Published in From The Ashes: An International Anthology of Womxn's Poetry

still a fairytale

once upon a time 

there was a young girl 

curly and tawny haired 

her home was filled with monsters 

that would scream and punch 

all through the night 

sometimes those monsters 

would even invade her in dreams 

their teeth would gnash as they’d chase her 

blindly through streets 

the young girl was always afraid 

so she began to knit 

her own dreams during the light 

in secret 

and away from prying eyes 

she was a princess 

an angel 

or a glitter-speckled fairy 

she realized she could be anything 

and those monsters

had no defense 

against the castle of her own design

*Published in From The Ashes: An International Anthology of Womxn's Poetry

weight of a word

age 22

the first time my therapist 

uses the forbidden term 

inc*st

i remember how that noun 

sank into my body 

an anvil dropping down down

into the sea

nowhere to be found 

for day weeks months 

i couldn’t even say the word

inc*st 

without wanting to vomit 

i even told my husband 

i wanted to die just to be reborn 

as if that would clean 

up those dirty places 

i dared not even touch 

so i stopped saying the word 

inc*st

called it the big bad 

big ugly 

my own personal Voldemort 

anything except the actual word 

to extricate myself from the reality 

that came barreling with it 

and that’s the problem 

you see 

how could i ever heal

from a word i refused to say?

i let that word place cuffs

upon my wrists 

shackles around my ankles 

and duct tape over my mouth 

the only way to break free 

i realized 

was to begin saying 

without shame or fear or filter 

that i survived 

the word no one ever wants to hear

*Published in From The Ashes: An International Anthology of Womxn's Poetry

bird of paradise

my untamed

hair

*Published in the October 2019 issue of Stardust Haiku

maggots

your

weaponized

hands

*

as if you never left the pull of night

*

forgiveness rounding the mountain’s peak

*Published by Weird Laburnum on 10/21/19

deep space

finally I hear

the pulse of heaven

*

infinite horizon

how much

I have yet to learn

*

dewdrop

for a second

our worlds collide

*

gentle rain

my present

now sweet

*

hope

in my vision

hundreds of stars

*

bright sky

the universe

needs you

*

heart of the cosmos

breathing in

all that will ever be

*

sunlit expanse

this must be where

healing begins

*

answered prayers

when planets

align

*Published in Incense Dreams 3.1

believe me

every poem

is a love song

for you

*Displayed in The Art of Recovery exhibition at Edison State Community College

thesis

i don’t write

because i need comfort or love

or strength

i already have those in spades

from the one who crafted me

long before

mother even carried my torch

i write because

far too many people hang

their heads low

sink into their shame

simply because they still

believe someone else’s filth

dirties their bodies

and forever taints their souls

*Displayed in The Art of Recovery exhibition at Edison State Community College

acceptance

today

i will do nothing more than float

float in the infinite ocean

of what could be

face up

arms open as wide as the universe

ready to feel

to embrace

the dark

the light

the sanctity

of all that is

and all that will be

*Displayed in The Art of Recovery exhibition at Edison State Community College

spark

when i cannot feel

the pulse of love under my skin

i run my hands

over grass warmed

by the sun’s tender light

there i say

is the key

that touch

that connection

zip lines to my heart

and says open please open

you are safe

*Displayed in The Art of Recovery exhibition at Edison State Community College

a simple truth

only after i forgave

could i smell the bloomed rose

*Displayed in The Art of Recovery exhibition at Edison State Community College

upgrades

i traded

his salt for honey

his venom for medicine

and that

my loves

is how i survived

*Displayed in The Art of Recovery exhibition at Edison State Community College

take my hand

at what point

will every last one of us

admit

we hold more pain

in our bodies

our minds

our hearts

than we have the strength

to carry alone

*Displayed in The Art of Recovery exhibition at Edison State Community College

dissonance

you say

there are no dirty rooms in your soul

yet i

have been cleaning them each night

*Displayed in The Art of Recovery exhibition at Edison State Community College

prelude

in D major

the sun’s slow ascent

*

free jazz

all at once

birdsong

*

syncopation

the wind

before the storm

*

coda

breathing in

day’s fall

*Published in the autumn 2019 edition of The Bamboo Hut

dynamite when prophesy blows my dust

*

not your ordinary eclipse the anvil of remembrance

*

dark matter unmaking our daily bread

*

pounding on the echo chamber door my no to your yes

*

head smashed arguing orange until green

*

what were you saying these tentacles in me

*

going going gone the black of pitch

*

into June's hymn I recast your death

*

unsheathing daggers your bones expose the lie

*

road to home peeling skin in the graveyard

*

my other name the redwood hums a processional

*

one with Polaris and yet the amygdala kicks

*

electric rainbow in the thick of the body

*

divisible by infinity all that could have been

*

where your story ends I combust into a rose

*Published in my first e-chapbook: says the rose (Yavanika Press 2019)

**Selected as Book of the Week by The Haiku Foundation on 10/15/24

It’s Not Insomnia If You Love It

within

the moon’s glow

I understood

why saints

fixed their eyes

upon the heavens

why artists

never sleep

*Published in Molecule: a tiny lit mag (Issue 1)

I’m happy to announce that my first e-chapbook, says the rose (Yavanika Press 2019), is now available for download. You can view it for free here.

omen

your

mouth

opens

*

wasp

sting

more

bullets

with

(in)

souls

*Published by Weird Laburnum on 9/10/19

contents under pressure to be human

*Published in Issue 1.8 of Human/Kind Journal
**Nominated for The Haiku Foundation’s Touchstone Individual Poem Award by the editor

if not for arias / I would have / breathed / in dirt

*

threading / a cosmos a garden / together / buck moon

*

the black / bird sings / why then / loaded guns

*Published in Otata 45 (September 2019)

the lake

there’s a lake

i watch each day

in her waves i see

diamonds

stars

and distant planets

i’ll only ever travel in dreams

she’ll never know

how much

she has healed my spirit 

in this life

except when i return 

to the source of all things

and embrace her hand

in thanks

*Performed at Art Inspiring Art (Brown’s Run Country Club) on 8/30/19

let them in

if

you ever feel alone

go outside

and look up to the heavens

those clouds

those stars

are with you in this moment

they’ll share

your joys and aches

if

you let them in your heart

*Performed at Art Inspiring Art (Brown’s Run Country Club) on 8/30/19

first steps

when i started to speak up

i barely recognized

my own voice

as if hearing it for the first time

i had to learn

its cadence and cracks

and let its imperfections 

feel safe

to my own ears and tongue

*Performed at Art Inspiring Art (Brown’s Run Country Club) on 8/30/19

everyday grace

if flowers only knew

how lovely

how special they are

they might develop an ego

as we humans

have a tendency to do

instead they share

their life without pretense

even when they wither

lose their petals

and breathe their last breaths

they do it with so much grace

you’d think a ballerina

was taking bow

after a solo in Swan Lake

*Performed at Art Inspiring Art (Brown’s Run Country Club) on 8/30/19

city of dreams

this evening

i will take

the sun’s hand

in mine

and we shall roam

together

in the city of dreams

expertly weaving

fantasy and reality

until the moon

once again

exits the land

*Performed at Art Inspiring Art (Brown’s Run Country Club) on 8/30/19

unsolved

there’s something unique

about the scent of fall

if i could describe it

i’d guess

a mix of cinnamon 

and brown sugar

or maybe patchouli

warmed by campfire smoke

but as much as i love

an answer

for every mystery

i shall let this one

remain unsolved

*Performed at Art Inspiring Art (Brown’s Run Country Club) on 8/30/19

i dare you

upon rising

from the world of sleep

i dare you

to lift your hands

towards the heavens

and give thanks

for blood rushing

through your veins

for breath coming

into your lungs

and for a mind

that still is able 

to comprehend

the meaning of blessed

*Performed at Art Inspiring Art (Brown’s Run Country Club) on 8/30/19

just listen

it is easy

to discard thoughts

as if they are meaningless

as useful as trash

yet

if you pay close attention 

to the whirlwind of words

circling your mind

some of those musings

after all

might be beautiful enough

to be called art

*Performed at Art Inspiring Art (Brown’s Run Country Club) on 8/30/19

like the flame

hope is a candle

 buried deep within my soul

the flame has yet

to perish or tire

it persists

day and night

and like the flame

so shall i 

*Performed at Art Inspiring Art (Brown’s Run Country Club) on 8/30/19

treasure chest

each day i journey

to the far ends of the Earth

reclaiming pieces of my heart

fractured and broken off

they are scattered among ruins

of temples long-deserted

hidden deep in forests between

seeds of lilies yet to bloom

woe are my feet

from hiking through islands

ravaged by storms

yet there is nothing i won’t do

to become

the person i was when birthed

*Performed at Art Inspiring Art (Brown’s Run Country Club) on 8/30/19

singin’ the afterlife blues

alone i sit

on the surface of the moon

watching my former home spin and spin

as clouds dance across

endless blue

i remember

spending years in a daze

not caring

if i lived or died

but now that i am here

in the audience of stars

i would give anything to run

my hands over spring trees and breathe

in their sweet air

until my lungs said no more

no more

*Performed at Art Inspiring Art (Brown’s Run Country Club) on 8/30/19

give yourself this

it’s okay

to not be okay

nothing about being human

is ever easy

so you owe it to yourself 

to lay down your armor and weep

and no one needs to know

why

those tears were shed

*Performed at Art Inspiring Art (Brown’s Run Country Club) on 8/30/19

in the beginning

if energy can neither

be created

nor destroyed

what if we

are all sparks

left over from the moment

God said

let there be light

*Performed at Art Inspiring Art (Brown’s Run Country Club) on 8/30/19

humble hearts

to be human

is to be

a survivor

believe me

pain spares no one

not even the one 

who marks their door

with the blood

of a lamb

life always has

a way

of humbling

every heart

*Performed at Art Inspiring Art (Brown’s Run Country Club) on 8/30/19

children of light

after the abuse

i burned myself

alive

then scooped up

those ashes

created sculptures

of doves

of roses

and told the match

in my hand

children of light

never truly die

*Performed at Art Inspiring Art (Brown’s Run Country Club) on 8/30/19

rape. Things you learn from family

*Published in the August 2019 edition of is/let
**Reprinted in Haiku 2020 (Modern Haiku Press)

and then I heard the Psalms dueling the dead of night

*Published in the August 2019 edition of is/let

within

the spiraled cactus

old stars

*Published in the August 2019 issue of Stardust Haiku

Salve

Every once in a while, I just need to lie down on the floor, close my eyes, and listen to some good old-fashioned blues.

mm-hmm

when the record

scratches my itch

*Published by Fresh Out: An Arts and Poetry Collective on 8/24/19

winding smoke

your always

twisted truth

*Published by Fresh Out: An Arts and Poetry Collective on 8/18/19

so light the match 

tonight

there will be no rest

not while black knots

sink into my core

you i

i you

in the end where

there is only oblivion

in the end where

i become death

where i trap you under

my soot-sullied boots

where the only word

i breathe is blaze

within the fire

within the fire

to start again

within the fire

within the fire

*Published in The Ekphrastic Review’s Mark Rothko Writing Challenge on 8/16/19

of all

that I could touch

this pond

became music

*Published by Fresh Out: An Arts and Poetry Collective on 8/10/19; reprinted on 8/14/19 with a correction 

oolong

why rush

this moment

*Published by Fresh Out: An Arts and Poetry Collective on 8/4/19

sonata

when the sun

hangs low

*Published in Otata 44 (August 2019)

behind

your

doors

lilies

combust

*

like

totems

our

tendons

*

deep

in the thicket

locks without keys

*

fault
line
the
other
self
waits

*

abbreviations
and other
various lies

*

casting spells the wind the wind the wind

*Published by Weird Laburnum on 7/31/19

alchemy

each dogwood

springs to life

*Published in the July 2019 issue of Stardust Haiku

consent

and other

beautiful words

*Published by Haikuniverse (www.haikuniverse.com) on 7/22/19

Christmas in July

You'd think I'd be a tough-as-nails person by now, but I'm not. Each time I speak up about an injustice, the girl inside of me crawls into a tight ball, as if to protect herself from an impending head-on crash. I know that might sound rather dramatic, but speaking up is a risky venture. In fact, during the past three decades, I have been on the receiving end of death threats, beatings, and job, family, and friend loss as a result of sharing my truth.  
 
So, in the time between now and whatever the future may hold, regarding my latest effort to break the silence, I am doing the only logical thing I can: hug my knees and hum out-of-season holiday tunes to an empty room.

nuclear fallout

but first

a dance

*Published in Issue 1.6 of Human/Kind Journal

head smashed arguing orange until green

*

alien probe

not bad

for a Monday

*Published in Bones 17

moment of peace

just me

and autumn’s hush

*

fearless

I let the snow fall

upon my tongue

*

newfound hope

hints of green

bathe the woodland

*

joyful noise

the crunch of earth

beneath my sole

*Published in the summer 2019 edition of The Bamboo Hut

perhaps this is freedom walking upon ghosts

*

obsidian shards

surely

you’ll outlast me

*

solemn grit

axing off

his red

*Published by Weird Laburnum on 7/9/19

remix

hearing the maple tree’s ocean

*Published in Otata 43 (July 2019)

falling in love

again

early summer

*Published in the June 2019 issue of Stardust Haiku

Father’s Day

another long walk

in solitude

*Published in Creatrix 45

thousands of people

die fleeing Syria

no one

stops to mourn

the crushed leaves

*Published in Skylark 13

like the folds

woven into origami

I am

creating my life

into a thing of beauty

*Published in Issue #20 of Moonbathing

in the cello

a heartbeat

once owned

by the willow

*Published in Otata 42 (June 2019)

(at family dinners I played the role of Very Nice Houseplant)

On paper, the difference between speaking with someone versus speaking to someone is quite superficial. Insignificant, perhaps. “Why even bother analyzing this?” you might ask. In terms of semantics, however, the difference between those two is as significant as crossing a pond versus navigating an ocean. 

invisible 

my sweat  

in the Pacific 

*Published in Issue 1.5 of Human/Kind Journal

not quite Mozart the staccato in our parting

*Published in tinywords issue 19.1 (5/30/19)

into June’s hymn I recast her death

*

my other name the redwood hums a processional

*Published in the May 2019 edition of is/let

bark

masquerading as velvet

blood ties

*

rocket smoke

if the sun doesn’t

shake me first

*

shift to Aeolian

a son picks up

his father’s cross

*Published by Weird Laburnum on 5/26/19

lightning

what remains

unsaid

*Published in the May 2019 issue of Stardust Haiku

Fingers Crossed

I see this meme over and over: Someone is behind the wheel (cue steely gaze of determination), and the text reads something to the extent of “deciding if I should go home or leave town.” Leave town? Really? That’s your big getaway plan? 

If I’m gonna blow this popsicle stand, I’m not just gonna leave this town, state or country. I’m gonna truck it out of this planet, this solar system, this galaxy, this universe, and hitch a ride on a parallel dimension’s Big Bang and start from absolute square zero within absolute square zero. 

rewrite 

the sky finally 

rains glitter

*Published in Issue 1.4 of Human/Kind Journal

soul sisters

juniper limbs dance

in the wind

*

baptism

all of the sky

rains upon me

*Published by Incidental Haiku on 4/26/19

enough

you will never have

a day like today

where the clouds tango

gently across the sky

and you will never have

a night like tonight

where the sun falls

gracefully

into its rainbow-glazed bed

ask the birds

the flowers

the trees

if they pine for more

and they'll ask in return

with sweet curiosity

what is more

*Published in the first issue of glide (Wright Memorial Public Library)

shades of blue

frost clings

to each rose

*Published in the April 2019 issue of Stardust Haiku 

beer can hiss

the guitar screams

its first riff

*Published by Fresh Out: An Arts and Poetry Collective on 4/20/19

between

you and me

constant thunder

*Published by Fresh Out: An Arts and Poetry Collective on 4/19/19

cost of war

fields of roses

burned to ash

*Published by Fresh Out: An Arts and Poetry Collective on 4/18/19

I wait

for the heartache to end

all night

not one meteor

has lit up the sky

*Published by Fresh Out: An Arts and Poetry Collective on 4/17/19
**Dedicated to Alvah Allen, co-editor and founder of Fresh Out (RIP)

one illusion into another haze of patchouli

*Published by Fresh Out: An Arts and Poetry Collective on 4/16/19

sleepless

I know the moon

understands

*Published by Fresh Out: An Arts and Poetry Collective on 4/15/19

forward into backward your honey mask slips

*Published by Fresh Out: An Arts and Poetry Collective on 4/11/19

pounding on the echo chamber door my no to your yes

*Published in Sonic Boom Issue Fourteen

wild bergamot

how I yearn

to be young again

*Published by Fresh Out: An Arts and Poetry Collective on 4/4/19

delta waves

the snow takes me deep within

*

star’s lament

no silver in mother’s voice

*

entering the ley line I inhale Venus

*Published in Otata 40 (April 2019)

impromptu boogie

one tulip bud

then two

*Published in the March 2019 issue of Stardust Haiku

Cross of Mine

Inspired by Hans Hoffmann's Laburnum

It is in chaos that I thrive,

in the spirals and drips

of my thoughts made manifest, splashed 

frantically in your gaze,

in the the push-pull affair between 

colors warm and cool. 

Could you exist here, too, 

not just as a spectator in your 

familiar pose: arms akimbo, legs 

planted flush against earth,

but as a lover, a dancer, 

a gunshot, a virus in my veins?

Will you be the one to finally hoist 

up my red-soaked cross,

the one I have carried west to east, 

south to north,

the one I mend and cradle daily 

while you merrily dream?

Or will you walk away

and give back 

the spilled blue of my essence that 

reached for your pulse in song?

*Published by The Ekphrastic Review on 3/24/19