OLD ROMANCE

  We steal moments when we can and hold each other like we used to and thus stoke the fires that made us one. There, in the kitchen where the smell of garlic coats our skin or in the pantry where we cannot be seen, let’s share a kiss and enfold each other in an

PEDESTAL (for Magpie Tales)

Do not put me on a pedestal nothing in that little space is real there, all my sins and all my virtues shine bright depending on the viewer’s eyes. It is lonely at the top separated from  humanity’s pulse while longing for a kindred heart to toast victories, to mourn failures. No, do not hold

SUMMER LOVE (for Magpie Tales and DVerse Poets)

Vaporous skies sultry air velvet petals tinkling water a scenic stage for a romance an illusion a summer’s dance hold tight to inhibitions fever rises to delirium wide open eyes blinded by light conjures butterflies enchanting sight lifting her off her feet skimming clouds languid heat misty shroud summer dipped treacherous fall roses die senses

SOLILOQUY (For Magpie Tales)

Look at me. I have come to terms with the mistakes you made. You were young and searching for your meaning. All has been forgiven. There is no sense carrying pain like a millstone around my neck. Look at me. Life has caught up with me. Old age is creeping in my bones and reveal

SORRY IS A PAINFUL WORD (for DVerse Poets and Magpie Tales)

“Sorry” is stuck in my throat. Humility is a bitter pill I take in grumbling silence louder than yells. I skulk in the corner of pride and excuses that make right my wrong and judgmental your right. I teeter on my pedestal absorbed in preventing my fall or falling with grace if that be the

GONE TO WORK (for Magpie Tales)

I cease to be when I walk through the door in the uniform that proclaimed my turn as the handmaid of customer’s desires. My body snaked among the hungry crowd to bring offerings to my demi gods lost in their worlds hidden in the sound of tinkling silver and conversation, while I hide in the

IN BETWEEN (for Magpie Tales)

She’s in an in-between world living an in-between life – between childbirth and empty nest between dirty dishes and clean pressing buttons of the washing machine. There she is in the evening between days, old and new wondering how she got there, or how fast time flew and still got nowhere though she chased each

THIS IS HOW A DREAM FEELS LIKE

So this is how a dream feels like – a ray of sunshine that filters through my hands, illuminates it for a while with a million stars exploding into dust before my eyes. What a lovely phantasm that brightens the earthbound and elevates the mundane to the Ethereal. Rather than vapors, I wish for dreams

WOMAN WITH THE ALABASTER JAR

    Since I anointed my Lord with nard from the alabaster jar I had been subject to ridicule from the apostles, of all people. How dare I waste such perfume to wash their own Master’s feet when it could have been sold for the poor’s benefit! But, could anything be too precious for Jesus,

LOVE LETTER

  I wrote my love letter in the wind with smiles and tears and hopes and dreams I perfumed it with lavender to appease your heart and let my words sing with the robin’s trill I colored my letters with the blooms of spring that you may not find me bland Last I wrapped it