This is a collection of my poetry, filled with a range of forms from haiku to prosetry. |
I believe poetry is one of the most effective ways to illuminate our inner and outer surroundings, helping us see the emerging facets of our worlds. |
Cat Sit on sofa back; wrap paws around my boy's head; lick his black hair clean. |
Living Bubbles We flew our clear-glass bubbles side by side Or I'd watch hers rise as mine brushed the ground then the bushes and flew past my friend when it was her time to sink my time to soar Some days we balanced on top slip-sliding, lighter than angels Then we'd crawl safe inside waving from our sun-prism bubble globes as we drowsed in our floating cradles In her bubble a dark space grew but I never noticed since she spent the most time sitting on top of her bubble smiling when I laughed looking sad when I cried One day she fled inside to tearless silence- The bubble burst pin hidden in her sleeve This is a poem written from an experience I had in college. This poem has been revised and revised, and feels like a scupture that has emerged from marble. But the first transformation was the most amazing one to me....The day it happened, my friend and I were supposed to study Physical Chemistry together. I went to her dorm room at the appointed time, knocked, and no answer. I started down the hall, and my inner still quiet voice spoke louder than usual--Go back! I figured her door would be locked, but it wasn't. I felt uneasy turning the knob to go into her private space. The first draft of this poem painted a starkly vivid picture of her unconscious on the bed with blood and pill bottles everywhere. Weeks later after she as out of the hospital, I sat down to read it and rewrite the poem, and suddenly there were bubbles.... |
Mourning's End Step on a cloud, sun setting dreams beyond your grasp. Grab handrailed star-steps. Climb until you reach rest cradled in cresent moon. A new sun rises. |