there is inner space  and there is outer space I like to travel in both places life is not a race my database  is my bookcase   I have yet to embrace  the coalface  face to face  and this human race  has misplaced  the meaning of grace  and lost the paper chase  to the corporate greed of cyberspace    tonight, I’m flying to inner space  aboard my “Itmims” spacecraft  to ...

Three generations lived together under one roof as one. Then the youngest challenged the ways of the oldest. They reached no reconciliation. So, they separated – with torn hearts. A death brought them together again. At the funeral, the mind of the oldest and youngest recognized how it was, too late to live as ‘One’. ...

Heroes are overratedThe type entitledto always save a damsel. As if I, a mere maiden,need liberationfrom anythingoutside desire. I’m no mere maiden,I don’t need liberation,emancipation,or freedom. I’m a woman ofpure carnal youthtrapped insidea fragile beauty. I roam the streetsamong nakedmoonlight, waitingfor something wicked. Yes, I need a wicked,devious, villain.The one to bindme in chains. To ...

As rain drip drops in the woods, it fills my vessel. Nourishing leaves and roots, the pitter patter talks to me. And arouses sweet memories of MartaDi- my American born sister from another mother. She and I, swung this swing together. We crackled, rejoiced, and felt free to share our fondest little truths. She described ...

All I want to do is sleepThen wake up and facethe outside world. For if I give intothis tug-of-war,and face the dawn? I may as well be oneof the walking dead,no mind or soul attached. I cling to each memorypossible of you, as ifthat will save me. I grip and pull the blanketover my head, ...

Arms stretch upwards in a bid to form a shieldLegs pick up pace in search of saving sheltersShutters clap close to create a damJoyful screams echo from the lips of wet toddlers The rain is hereHer voice is the perfect harmony of baritone thunder and crackling strikesFrom the safety of my bedroom where I sitI ...

Calm seas for a day and a half have turned rough without giving me notice. How must I prepare? I have no choice but to ride the storm. Rising, falling, and rising enough times will make me strong. How do I know this? This isn’t the first time, now is it? Once strong, I could ...

Life is unpredictableWe try to fill it with thingsThat makes us happy or sadBut nothing can help us predict our future We think that everything is set to fateSo we fight against the grainOr do we sit and wait for events to happenAs they may appear to be Our lives are what we make of ...

At the local veil sales You will hear me ask “Are you wearing a mask” You, lurking in the back pews Beyond your mirror’s view Waiting to be rescued  When you return home If you roll away your mirror of stone You will no longer be alone 

Shivering Leaves, forced by the power of the wind, form a circle. Threatened, the need for circle time has never been greater; the need to look into each other’s eyes has not been more real. Holding hands, this empowering moment will last through their lifetimes.