At the forefront of my mind is
What will the answer be
When I finally find the courage to speak
It for the Universe,
And not merely my mind?
A Word sounded out across
The tongue and off the lips is born,
And even in death is remembered.
I am tired of all the Women
Stuffed into fridges
(head in the freezer when there’s no room)
For the sake of a man’s pain and plot.
Give me all the Girls fighting back
(Give me queens of love and war and both)
No more cheap trick sacrifice
To justify moving the story along.
The Vase You Gave Me
Through the cracks
Slips the water, drips the water.
This vase is of no use
Anymore.The dying flowers die quicker.
What does that say about me
And the gaps that opened up in me
When you left me behind with
The sound of shattering in my ear.
Poetry and Politics
From the stage I see a glint
Of sun on metal.
From the window high
Watches the man with a gun.
No to simple a word, not gun,
But death in another body,
No still not right, maybe I have
No words. Here I am about
To die and I am debating words.
This Stone Man is No Ozymandias
Colossus ever standing his duty never done,
(for no one will ever come)
None to relieve him of his watch.
His eyes have long been glazed by moss and wind and sleep denied
His mouth a petulant angle yet to be worn away by time,
Yet still he watches for those who might come
( they will ever come)