Tag Archives: poem

As we danced in the garden

Mother Nature shares every mood
She tells us when she is angry
She tells us when she is sad
She tells us when she is happy

What she never shares is why
Why she screams
Why she cries
Why she shines

We experience her every mood
Her vibrating screams
Her icicle heart
Her burning desires

Her secrets are her own
We seek to discover
What makes her tick
What makes her live

We discover only what she wants us to know
Shrouded in mystery
Shrouded in emotions
That cannot be foretold

She teases us with her quick
Changing emotions that
Toy with our hopes
And our dreams

Today she is hot
Burning with desire
Promising days of
Joyous play

We frolic in her
Rays of light
We dance in the garden
Overjoyed with new life

We sleep and dream
Of pansies and strawberries
Of the delightful days
We will spend in her warmth

When we awake
she is cold
Heart of ice
Breaking her promise

Taking shelter from pain
We weep and pray
For the end of her
Bitter betrayal

She promised us
Joyous play
And renewal of life
As we danced in the garden

She betrayed us all
And instead of new life
She brought us

Cursed for Her Birth

You smiled at me with a hateful grin,
Cursing my mother and my birth.
Childhood smells like rotting love,
Feels like living is a sin.

Searching and seeking for something,
Anything to fill the void
that was once my soul.
Dead inside, I could not feel

Until I found the one who loved me,
Who said he would never leave,
Never break my heart;
He would fill the void with his soul.

Three years I gave all I was
To the man who promised
To love and never hurt me,
While he sucked life from my eyes.

You loved him in spite of
The girl you were supposed to protect,
Choosing him over this precious child
Whose only desire was your love.

I watched as he disappeared
Into the bottle and the needle.
I gave him my every breath
While I gasped for air.

And yet you praised the son
That you wished you’d had;
The man who sucked life
From the girl you cursed for her birth.

I am

I was born no one
Given a name, I became someone
I am a daughter.
Later, I became a sister.
I am a friend, an enemy, a girlfriend.
I am a student and an employee.
I became a wife and a mother.
Nieces came along, and I became an aunt.
As time elapsed, I began to wonder—
Who am I?
Am I the sum of my roles?
Am I just a person?
Who is this stranger staring
At me from the mirror?
At one time, I thought I knew.
Now, this stranger appears—
Worn, ragged, wrinkled.
Who is she?
Her body is transformed from
Childbirth and years of decay.
Am I her?
I know that I am someone, but who?
Am I a poet, a scholar, an artist?
Do the things I do define me?
Listening to my heart beat,
I know that alive—
I am

Time to Write

Have you ever noticed?

when profound thoughts come to mind
when that moment of lucidity strikes
when you are emotionally charged
when your fingers desire to
flick across those intimate plastic keys—

a hindrance to
fulfilling the desire—

the world works according to—
its own time
its own needs
its own demands

I have just these five minutes before I –
bend to the will of the clock
demands of my life
commitments I have made

at this moment I want
to let my thoughts escape
a brimming brain—

to find their way
from cortex to finger tips
where they are free


the timer tells me
to force my thoughts
into tidy boxes
to wait—

for time,

Time to Write

Have you ever noticed, that when profound thoughts come to your mind, when that moment of lucidity strikes, when you are emotionally charged, and when your fingers desire nothing more than to flick across those familiar plastic keys, you are barred from fulfilling that desire because the world works according to its own time, its own needs, and its own demands? I have just these five minutes before I must bend to the will of the clock, the demands of my life, and the commitments I have made. Though college is important and I find such joy in the wonders of learning, at this moment I want nothing more than to let my thoughts escape from my over stimulated brain and find their way from cortex to finger tips where they can finally be free. Buzzz…that’s the timer, letting me know that I must force my thoughts back into their tidy boxes to once again wait for time.