Sweet, sweet tonic
Where are you
I want to drink you in
And stumble in your sparkle

Are you champagne
Are you whiskey
Are you absinthe
Are you blood, red, passion poison

Cryptic, profound drink
Potion for my pounding heart
Elixir for my pulsing soul
Where did you go

I need you still
Need you here with me
Need you next to me
Need to taste your words



Stay away
I am nothing but trouble

Be afraid
It is justifiable

I will take and push
Till you’re through, through

Disturbingly dark
I will stain you

Flee fast from my quake
Steady ground is at stake

Nothing but trouble
I am your mistake

Girl with Blue Hair

There is a girl with blue hair
A tiny, striking girl
With piercing eyes
They call her introvert
She sighs a warning once she speaks
She will reveal all
She quietly knows the meaning
Going on around her

Her contradiction is an art
Art is genius
She is an artist
Her tresses dipped in paint

Long Love

Long time

Long life

Long love

Long, long love


Child love

Heart love

Kiss and tell

Baby love


Baby love for life, love

Love-child heart

Kiss and love baby

Kiss me now baby


Kiss long and tell

Baby tell my heart

My heart longs

For long love


Do you brightly grin, speaking slickly chosen words
Only that others might buy your amphetamine?
Are your motives ever borne of animal need
For the licking of shared wounds?
Or are you wily and nimble
Selling your speed until high moon?
Do you ever abandon gain, empty your pockets
and go to prowl, smitten with another?


Push it
What if we push it
Will it topple
Will it sway
Will we lean into the meaning
Can we expose the reality
Push it
What if I push it
Will you run
Will you go away
Will you lean into my longing
Will it expose our needing
Push it
What if you push it
Will you fall into the listening
Will you learn on my back
Will I let you fall
Will I let you be imperfect


Rocket to the moon
Iris full of stars
Gathering sparkly pixie dust
Fueling up on Mars
Planet orange as sugary Tang
Seat from which to watch big bang
Aerodynamic time of thrust
Shiny silver projectile lust

Not a Poem

This is not a poem of unrequited love
Not a poem of longing
Of yearning

This is not a poem of hurt and broken heart
Not a story full of woe
Of betrayal

This is not a poem of how do I go on
Not a fantasy daydream
Of chemistry

This is a poem of truth of earth, of body, of mind
Of piercing ache
and then release

Spinning dervish, fear and fear
Brain in stomach, scream gut feeling
One hundred stories made of sound
Landing softly
On the ground
The ground

Lovely, Lovely Darkness

Should darkness always be my friend
Intensity dodging looming daybreak
Night is for doing, feeling, reeling
Sight and sound in crisp harmony

Morning is for longing
Rise before the dawn
Breathe in perfumed melody
Hoping for a message

There always is a message
Dancing on a message
To keep the dream from waking
Promise of a message

Never calling me back
To the ache that is unfathomable
The possibility of the new
Entrances like a jailbreak


Hold space for me as bodies wither
I will remind you of nimble, bronze agility
Of pounding need for sensory

Hold space for me, so I may be imperfect
You, in turn, will have wings of gratitude to lift you

Hold space for me as I learn to live this time
This time that was unplanned

This time we haven’t much of

And I will hold space for you