Poetry & Inspiration

A Post-Election Poem for Our Future Daughters

A few weeks ago, I sat on the edge of my bed, despondent. I sat in pain and bereft. Hurt by this election. Hurt by this rhetoric. Hurt by all the words being tossed around that have broken my heart

That I Was an Egg Inside My Mother

That I was an egg inside my mother inside Lillian                        That she is an egg inside an egg inside me              What am I

I Sucked the Marrow

              I sucked the marrow from the bomb it tasted so right like GMO corn it made me weep how full it was I knew better than to fall in love with any piece

I am cleaning off my girl

I am cleaning off my girl I long to salvage what’s live in her I wipe kohl gunk from the slits of her eyes I pat at her glittery pout with a towel My girl scowls at me and cries and

wOMb

The making of love, like the dance of destruction, wields force and yields surrender. On the grounds of such hallowed paradox sits a temple in which the goddess reigns. She resides in the vibrancy of space, the intimacy of aloneness,

The Thin Thread of Truth

There's a thin thread of truth that ignites my body into fire It dwells in my belly and roars up my spine It grabs hold at my throat rolling flames over rhymes It makes me speak out of turn and

Deā€¢vote (verb)

(may occur in any place or time, such as a cafe) 1. to see the red brick come alive, to see the light of the One, with human eyes. 2. to smell Love in the coffee served. 3. to hear