Raise Them Up

I’m done with the trolls and their hollow, spewing hateful opinions. I am over the ambivalence. I’m done with people who say they don’t care about politics, only the value of their stocks, guns and the art of the deal. I’m done with friends and family who live under the crowded veil of ignorance. I’m done with the bullies, the posturing, the greased palms, the narcissists. We won’t recover from

Petals of Passion

I had the craziest dream. Sweet Gardenia blossoms grew immense enveloping firestorms and chaos, masquerading all traces of ash and burn. The intoxicating scent of sweet perfume permeated the clean air, creating nursery rows of safety bubble greenhouses. A young girl’s innocence remained pure and virtuous. Flowering freedom rained dewdrops of kindness. There were no guns, no mass graves, no starvation, no rape, no death. No dead children. No hate.

Enough

Believe that you are better than Money Power Greed Hate Terrorists Trump NRA Bullies Shady Politicians Believe that if you haven’t lost someone you love To Mass Shootings You are blessed, the lucky one Pretend it won’t ever happen Pretend it’s impossible Pretend doesn’t work much these days It can’t happen? Not today, not in your town, not in your house The one safe space  And then indulge me Close

Heartbeat Sweet

Precious heart you don’t fool me Not everyone is good, not everyone is kind Precious heart do not worry your sad little boombox beats Or tragic flatlines It’s a half hearted day like all others For better or worse I’m tired and my head hurts I’m not a good person some of the time I’m blood sour and thick Precious heart, you’re just a pump You feel me The most

caught-crossfire

Caught in the Crossfire

I am told the brain feels no pain, no pressure. That is only half-truth. I have experienced a different reality; never exposed to screaming silence quite like this. I’m scared out of my mind imploding from the inside. I make ballsy, hasty decisions to beat down the bullshit, chemical imbalance. Humiliated, I lie alone on a gurney, port in my arm, the tacky acrid green plastic band too tight around my

Carny Days

 Carny Days What difference do the mad genes make when everyone is running? The speed of my thoughts makes up for the snail pace of the body. I pray one will balance out the other. The monotony of the same old, boring tedious routine gives structure to the wandering head. The walkabout has come to a screeching halt; words escape me, unsure of the new pace. Diamonds dance and stars

Pet Friendly on Bleeding Ink with Feminine Collective

“Pet Friendly” on Bleeding Ink with  Feminine Collective             Pet Friendly I am not a patient person and yet, somehow I find the patience, for her. Maybe it’s because she needs no words to show me what she wants, just a tilt of the head to the left or the right. Her gold and grey swirls of fur glisten when she sees me, a smile lights