After Dusk

dewdrop peace begins at dusk
still red the sky is staying
crickets with the bullfrogs sing
fireflies flash while playing
the night abuzz with crazy life
only people sleeping
animals know what time is best
the dark their secrets keeping
Dec. 1995

Thoughts

Where are you going and
how are you getting there?
My thoughts are lost in
pocket lint
Where do yours go when
you aren't paying attention?
I bet there's a lot of extra
ones floating around in the
pond out back.
That must be why the fish
I caught is so smart.
sometimes they fall into
the empty bottles in the recycling bin.
I think that's where new ideas
come from.
My only problem is the big hole
in my pocket.
Dec. 1995

Please Forgive Me

I'm sorry, I think I made a mistake
that happens sometimes.
I'm sorry, but this is too much to
take,
can you forgive me?
I'm sorry, my feelings hurt too by reply
and yours?
I'm sorry, could this be good-bye?
I know it's my fault...

and I'm sorry.
Sept. 23, 1995

Sunshine

rose petals fill the air
fresh scent of spring
flowers in the yellow field
sway to the bluebird song

sun filtering
beating warm through cloud fluff
the mushrooms under
pinetrees,
peeking up from a needle prison
staying cool and moist

whirly maple seeds
join the petals
bees are happy today
Nov. 1995

Tears

Magic fingers
swoop low over the cemetery
tears are falling
dry cheeks becoming saturated
tears becoming a salty river
and a boat can float
jump in, it can sail you away
across the lake
filled by this stream
the lake must be an ocean
it is filled with salt
and so are her cheeks
by the shore she stands
and the magic fingers
grab for her breath
she struggles for air
with a gasp
magic fingers change heart
and wipe her cheeks dry.
Nov. 1995

Sandcastles

My toes sink into the damp sand
waves splash up
to bury my feet
the sun beats down
and my hair sucks it in
imitating the golden rays

warm my pale skin
but rosy my cheeks
and I trudge back to
the umbrella masking my
beach blanket.
The calluses on foot bottoms
vaguely painful
from sandfire.

My mind changes and
instead of clean and cool
on the blanket under the
umbrella,
I choose the warm sunlit
sand
and ignore the grit in my hair
Later leaving behind only
my sand angel,
and the castle I want to
live in someday.
Sept. 1995

Mother's Clock

She looks at me and
I imagine to myself
What she expects of me
this time, sand
it falls slowly marking
the passing of time.
It's time
time to do my homework,
Or time,
time to dust the old
Living room chest we use as
a coffee table,
and time,
time to practice my piano,
Someday I will get a scholarship
I'm imagining that too.
I know she thinks it.
And I know,
I'm sure, it means more to her than me
But it's my life,
and her time.
My watch says it's now
Hers is fast by a few years.
Nov. 1995

Friends

the cigarette burns a hole
through the styrofoam plate.
they aren't made for ashtrays,
she tells me
but why should I care?
it's her table
in her house
it's almost out anyway
you can't smoke the filter
I feel happy,
but maybe it's the nicotine buzz
her fingernails are red
I wish mine were,
but mine are too short
and my fingers too stubby
so i change the conversation
to motorcycles
because mine is brand new
and instead she can be jealous.
Nov. 1995

Destinations

Road leading nowhere
Comes from nothing
never ending, without beginning
the journey onward goes.
Suddenly something's changing
You are near-- holding my wonder dear
And I wander-- not away but closer
expecting nothing, but wanting all
the ties unbinding as slowly I fall
I realize your presence and long for your warmth
I know where I'm falling-- still to scared to admit
Your jumbled thoughts poured out on paper
awkwardly I sit-- and what do you fear?
We're falling together, yet is that how we'll land?
Seems like forever, do you understand?
I think all the time, my heart longs for you.
And what do I say? That confusion's fun...
But I wonder all the time-- are you the one?
Already knowing the answer
Still from each other we run
Stop holding back, I can't let my self free
the past has padlocked my heart
my only dream is that you hold the key.
Oct. 29, 1995

Lovely

my thoughts for you are chaos
my heart believes them more than any truth
the nonsense that fills my head
aching skull from memory loss
emptiness of my brain- just short of insane
and i love it
I'm reaching for my multi-colored recollections
floating in too many directions
knowing i'll lose some forever- wondering if i'll miss them
oh stars please tell me i'll never- have to miss you
but i already do
I'm waiting for my spirit to crush my soul
the weight of your purpose equaling my goal
while we anticipate, pre-meditate
is it your intention to procrastinate?
i refuse to blame fate
this ringing in my ears, now one else hears
penetrating my heart, complicating my mind
i'm not complaining, simply explaining
i'm only sorry it doesn't make sense
it's just too immense
within my understanding i linger
wanting to leave its safety- like dense fog
in the darkness i grope, suddenly grasping your fingers
into the sunlight you pull me near
i long forever to stay right here
Oct. 29, 1995

Music

I was lost. Hopelessly
lost. The forest in the setting sun
had looked beautiful and
colorful.
The leaves falling and rustling
orange, yellow and red.
But night had fallen fast, and
now in the moonless night
I couldn't make out my
surroundings. I was sure
I had been stumbling and groping
about for an eternity, but
it was suddenly apparent to me
that the trees and foliage
I had been encountering
were no longer inhibiting my
path.

I concluded that I wasn't in a forest
but an open field. The overcast sky
could not aid my vision. Then,
in the distance, I saw it: a small flame,
a flicker!
In my excitement
I ran toward it stumbling. Now
I heard something, a low
moan, but it was rhythmic, almost
melodious.


I stopped-- listening, watching. The light
was a fire. I crept closer, my eyes
intent upon the flame.
Then I noticed the shadows
dancing about me. I was not close
enough to see that these
shadows were made by stone columns
connected at the top by another stone
slab.


These were fixed in a circle around the
fire. The moaning had gotten
much louder and I looked around. Opposite
me, across the fire was a forest, that
is where the sound came from.
Then a figure emerged, then another
and yet another. I hid behind a pillar
to observe. Slowly a procession of robed
and hooded men entered the circle, four
of them carrying a large ragged
bundle.

As they chanted they
lifted it, higher, higher
over the fire. The chanting
stopped suddenly as they released it and
it caught the flame. Then the odor
hit me. Like
nothing I have ever smelled.
It made me ill. I started to gag. Then
a hooded man turned
toward me.
Even though I was fully in shadow
I felt he was looking right at me. Then I saw
his eyes--
red, glowing.
Those eyes sent a tremor of terror
through me.

I
was
suddenly
running, stumbling,
groping and then falling. My
head hit a hard, sharp object and all was
black.

1995

Broken

look in the mirror
don't know who i see
wish i could reach her
and let her go free
wrapped in her own world
away from the rest
hoping for someone
seeking the best
someone threw a stone
aimed straight at her heart
it shattered my mirror
and tore us apart
Oct. 20, 1995

Spectrum

red dust of today
orange of tomorrow
filtered purple of the sunset
ivy jade of summer
silver puddle sparkle
like golden cobweb dewdrops
wet grass and damp feet
dripping wax to porch steps
the crickets' song grow dim
white dandelion dancer swirling
swept by the chilly wind
firefly chartreuse brightness
quickly fades to dark
the angels' whisper jagged
and smothered now the spark
Sept. 24, 1995

Wet Dreams

A mermaid is drowning in the shallow
water
she calls me
but I do not want to help
her.
She is not mine,
and her scales do not fit me.
I want what is hers
but I cannot have--
Drowning--
neither can she.
Sept. 23, 1995

Untitled

A hardened heart
and down I lay
to search for hope
again I pray
My plight for peace
and trust and love
My eyes stray upward
to the ceiling above
My room is small
yet walls close in
I'm looking back
to where I've been
My life lived well
no sound regrets
And still I search,
no love found yet
The crowd looks on
my breath gives way
As I leave my dreams
to try again; maybe better
today.
Sept. 15, 1995

The Day I named our Palm tree

hey, I'm stranded
but so are you.
You understand
my desert island.
our surrounding waters black.
black is the faces of them,
all of them
The tide washes up upon our shore,
it's rising now.
our desert island is shrinking away.
The patch of land we share
holds our lone palm tree
I named her for us:
Destiny
Sept. 15, 1995

One Afternoon

His wavy, wet hair hangs in his
Huge brown eyes
and I ask him, "Why does it rain?"
He doesn't have an answer
but the tilt of his head is enough
The corners of my mouth turn up
as he kicks out
Making the creaking porch swing
jerk backwards and up into the misty air
And I start to wonder
why I feel so enchanted
on such a dim, damp day
so I lean over
and brush the brown tangles
from his face.
Sept. 8, 1995

Strength of the Ladybug

hopes lost
later found
pieces missing
weakened broken fragments
limply strung together
now
trust mangled helpless
the ladybug is again strong
plastic smiles with
unhappy eyes
honesty behind unknown
the ladybug is again happy
fright beneath lies
purple wonder to the dewdrops
decide to stay- or go
I'll go, you can stay with
the ladybug
Sept. 4, 1995

Dream of the Pyro

Smoke cuts holes through
unsuspecting blue-soaked sky
and i'm happy

fire licks clean old
brown boards
and i smile

soot-black nails in
rotting wood glow orange moonbeans
and i laugh

splinters of filthy windowpane
shatter crackling silence
and my heart soars

the baby's cry
and i shiver
Aug. 1995