Thursday, June 20, 2019

The eye in my sky is crying

The eye in my sky is crying

See my fears roll down the street
Tears allayed by stares in space
A cell phone in hand, no dial tone, a blues band commands my adrenal glands
Understand it’s my wedding band, not a new brand of incense,
I take a firm stand on a crash land course stuck in the Meadowlands of York
Passion fruit seeps from my sweat glands
Swerving into oblivion on the freeway, an alien shaman ~ that’s me
An alligator devoured my right hand – Now 2 left feet remain
Beauty is nothing but a backdrop for the blues
We all want beauty peace a little food and empathy
I keep trying and failing to decompartmentalize; an exemplary fit
Lost my wit – cut it out stupid twit see what’s writ do as befits, 
I observe others fare better 

The eye in my sky reflects humanity’s tears their fears that life can’t be any better or go anywhere except to all one place eventually
Do you want to be easily forgotten, your family here
A score or two more, no one will know you
Damn, give your shell to charity
No formaldehyde either please, I use the excuse I’m Jewish; bury me green, please 
I keep saying son, it will pass you by before we come noon to sun
Is this how you want to spend your last day

My man loves his drugs
Almost as much or more than me
He gets them easily supercalifragilisticexpialidociously,

Tons of prescriptions legally
His drugs do him right
Momentarily maniacal he says he’s feeling’ so tight
I see him in a new light struggling to write
Doctrinally following clinical struggles, a mix of Geodon, Ambien, Lamogine, 
To name a few - some are noxious, others only for allergies
Billy Jean’s not his lover, enervated after meds 
no more energy to survive when he’s done, 
Throw some synergy into the fray
Walking up Bombay Broadway 
Brings me back to tears rolling down the street
I refuse to admit defeat, repeat it all again and again
The eye in my sky is crying


Friday, May 31, 2019


Waiting on a revelation about the coming revolution 
It’s slow no one wants to know we’re just a bunch of good little soldiers
Doing what we’re told to
I’ve made no resolution to begin a revolution 
I want to see people treated fair
I turn to me, say, see me free to be fair to me
Set me free outside myself
Set me free, let me be me
 “my bad” will set me free 
deny the naysayers, haters and dis abusers

See me
An angel cast from heaven 
because of my big mouth, I was sentenced to hell on earth 
fallen from grace, a casualty for being me
Set me free from this insanity, this rat eat rat culture
We waifs wander the street
like abused common yard rats we want to be set free. 
Even rats are drawn to starlight and 
love to feel the earth beneath their feet instead of the hard city pavement 
where we are caged together
dining on musical words helps me while away my days 
whilst I sit here and await my fate in the next genocide an autolytic sourpuss

pray, permit me to continue
in a prison, I sit awaiting sentence
my pitiful existence pale compared to thee
cast me from your kingdom
wandering searching far from home
am a product of your fear and castoff genius combined
disowned and disavowed
Wings stolen while I awakened from a nightmare to discover
I lived a life not mine
Worrying doesn't help

Accepting unfair demands doesn't help either but what if you don’t have a choice
easy for you to say let it go and let it be
Let it go and let me free, let it go and set me free
On wings, I flew once with you as an angel now cast from your grace
Laugh as you look down upon me pleading to be set free
And you say girl you had it the way you wanted to be
You ask to be set free
I set you free and now you want to come back to me.
Pity about those set free who want to come back to me
Being me who’s no longer me is no fun even when you think you want to be free
Once you rode on wings you could spread but you prayed me to let you be free 
Now you beg to come home and it’s too late to let you back in my grace
Let it all go daughter, let it all go so you return to be 
an angel spreading her wings – wings fashioned from dreams - 
wings with kaleidoscope colors 

Saturday, February 02, 2019

I Live My Life In A Purple Haze

Not just a faze, a way of life back in the 60s, 
purple haze was an LSD craze 
now under my hearts gaze 
Lost in my minds maze
Can’t get a social security raise
Keep wondering about ways 
To enjoy the sun’s rays
And get out of this malaise
Can’t get ahead, keep moving sideways
I’m only human, feeling so blasé after so many days
unexcited with exceptions to every rule I face
Lost in a different kind of haze not knowing where I am in this  phase of my life, not trifle
Rephrase the question which is the answer to why I’m living this way, I’m only human, so fuck you too
I don’t need money to flex
I flex my humanity instead of money
I agree, must be the end of days

Sunday, January 13, 2019

Heart’s Navigation into My Soul

Slowly painfully melt into oblivion, fight, make my way to differentiation, not game, 
work for concentration, live in a hazy intoxication of my making
Not wise to make assumptions leads to my demised corruption 
Not about my occupation still kicking today for another day
Liberation from knowledge about his medication
What that means in expression or the conclusion
Life is a series of reflections 
A projection of ourselves like live cinema screen
Regression into vegetation – initiation into some cruel occupation of my soul wanders
Through listless impressions. dedication to a life I know nothing of
Exploration of a faceless alibi, compression of frustration, I hold back
Seek restitution, restoration for what I never owned

I want to drink a bottle of wine, talk about hard times
I want to sit and drink this wine, sit and worry about my decline
I want to drink this wine and think about fine times
I want to climb up high and forget reality
I want to forget slime balls I meet and center on my bloodline
Settle on bloodline, like settling on a landmine
Know life is on a deadline, it’s asinine
Trying to believe in divine isn’t the goldmine 
Want to conquer the fierce divide
I want to live in oblivion 
I can’t take the pain
Pain rears his ugly head disdainfully
Again and again…
Pain reverberates, vibrates in my head
hear the only relief is death 
want to avoid that choice
Live inside of my head
Avoid the world outside 
Daddy preached the world is a dangerous place
Filled with pitfalls, delusions of grandeur  
Fear says insolation is perfect solution
Life lived inside dreams, hidden away – Daddy's way
Seek relief in dreams 
Search for who I could be
If only I’d stop hiding away
insane in the membrane of my brain
I struggle to stay sane

Saturday, January 05, 2019


You need to wake up, live in a daze
a haze of days
Morning noon and night
It ain’t right but there’s no way to stop you
Like talking the living to the dead
Entire life living in the red,
sleep and rest in the bed
it’s my bad nothing eases the pain
pills night and day - no way to stop you
The mental and physical anguish remains the same as you push life to exsanguinate
your blood thins day by day, tire so easy it’s all breezy and good,
you examine your mind, it’s more than a faze
but it’s all good
You explain the drugs are legally prescribed by many different doctors who listen to your complaints
They prescribe pills to alleviate the gaze of hazy pain you live in
Describe pain where it maintains a domicile in your head –
it possesses you, obsesses you search for a nonexistent cure
Can’t accept the prognosis, 18 drugs a day all prescribed to the beat of your heart.
Slows the glow / the glue holding you together disappears in my heart.
Another pill won’t cure your ills. Determine the excess of the access or access to excuse
Excuse me, I meant excess the distress, there’s no elixir to create a victor,
It’s all downhill by doctor’s goodwill
I profess I’m consumed and confused;
is it the syndrome about which comes first - the chicken or the egg?
A stitch in time ain’t worth a dime, do you have the time
On the road to enlightenment, forget sentiments the buck stops here.
Watch on the sidelines while u struggle for a quick exit
Living life like you’re fit to be tied, live life on an incline
Live the fast lane
You’ll regret it, lose out in the end living inside your mind won’t suffice or change the end. Tell myself and tell you.
My words fade in the southwestern wind turning southerly
while we dismiss lists
Stuck in an abyss, lost in time, fade in the dreamer
Stare at your demeanor, lost and found, I stand my ground while Jill comes tumbling after and Jack can’t find his crown
Search through the valley of death
Surmise the crease in your pants
Cry another dance, dry tears in my eyes.
My vision blurred by raindrops falling. 
Remember to see the sea widens
fear to die in the midst of a dream becomes real
You will heal from the power of words I implore

Saturday, November 10, 2018

Noise In My Head

Play my heartstrings like a violin 
Sweet and bitter like a mandolin
Up and down the scale to my chagrin
Left with no more turns, try to find a way in
Your face in a stuporous grin
Walls of my heart broken down like walls of West Berlin
No answers, like holding me together with a body pin
Your pain tattooed on my heart like my car’s Vin
Feelings strewn in a bin, you complain 
About selling your brand new Schwinn
Feel like a fish caught in net, 
Alive while getting her fins skinned
Wouldn’t feel so much pain if my heart 
Wasn’t previously scarred by kin
Almost disappear, your thoughts and mind grow thin
Along with your body flesh
Made of flesh and blood, not of tin
Suffer with words create a fierce din 
My heads in a spin from all the noise
Desire a way to create a win
Search for what may have been
While time eludes us, realize 
I’m older to begin

Buy my book Tupelo Honey & other tales

Tuesday, August 21, 2018


Listen To the Poetry Queen, Violetwrites, Read  plus read while you listen 
- this is 2nd half - Below is 1st half of poem.

Fear to venture out
Afraid of myself 
Have to hide myself away of my own free will
Because I’m dangerous
Dangerous to my health and yours
So try to stay away from me
I’m fat so all these layers of fat are there to protect me from you, you, and you
I’m the you, the you – you never want to be, you even define yourself by the absence of affect which clearly puts me there at the center, and you look at me and say, “I will never be you! I would never be able to do what you did,” but walk a mile in everyone else’s shoes and somehow you find yourself there, in my shoes and me in yours
That’s what happens in interchangeable movies, right! We exchange the old for the young and young for the old. Then, somehow, when the young come back to old, who they really are, they all know what they thought they didn’t know, and after the interchange, and exchange, they recall, maintain and retain the change they knew and came back to
Where it all began and where we’ve been, what we learn, what we have to do
It counts if you went to the school of hard knocks
Please don’t send me back there
It’s how this all began, there, where I was born
No way to stop the clock, lost in this reverie 
Each day I’m more unhealthy to myself than the day before
A cycle of self hate, blame for who you are
Who I am who I say I’ll never be
Intentions matter say some
Others say only actions
I don’t know who to believe
Do I know where I am?
I don’t know anything 
Everyday that I live I know myself less each day I live
I try my best to know 
Yet what I know is I know less instead of more
What a dilemma!
I seek peace is hard to find
Peace to the planet
Peace to all who survive here
Here on our planet
Pray we humans all survive, animals, all inhabitants survive
Peace to all
Earth to all
Spread the Love and Peace to all
Om mani padme hum

Tuesday, August 14, 2018


The Western Wall, also called the Kotel is the last remains of the Second Temple of Jerusalem, which formed part of the enclosure of Herod’s temple, resulted in the encasement of a natural steep hill, that became the Temple Mount. The Kotel is holy due to its connection to the Temple Mount and is holy to Muslims, Jews, and Christians. This holy place was destroyed by the Romans in 70 CE. The remaining wall is all that is left from the Temple Mount. 


Can a wall really wail or is that a fail-safe fallacy to inspire the fire inside
Does a wailing wall speak to inadequacy inside?
Can a wall 2000 years old wail sufficiently to quell my pain?
Can a wall help me see the heartbreak between Abel and Caine?
Can this 2000-year-old Western wall help our world find peace?
Help nuclear energy threats cease
Pray for wars to decrease
Help humanity stay safe without regrets
Pray no one forgets the past
The result of making outcasts leads to a lambaste

Will this wall provide a safe space to do more than cry about what’s left?
I try to shrug free of my chains 
There’s no escaping the Western Wall’s remains
Power soars through my veins, the wall opens my reality
Feels like labor pains, I feel my soul strain to let go restraints
An African lady, dressed in high fashion speaks in tongues I can’t understand. 
She pounds her chest, pounds the wall with a closed fist, and screams “Jesus” 
The rest of the words are forecast
African Lady’s fist pounds her words into the wall’s veins
A religious Orthodox Jew rolls her eyes momentarily aghast 
Then returns to her private prayers
I try to imagine African Lady’s sorrows as the wall absorbs them
Overcome with waves of feeling, I struggle to see through my tears, fears appear,
I return my gaze to a wall I don’t know but somehow feel like I’ve been here before, 

Wailing inside, feel all aglow, wait for my soul to be lit by peace
I place my shred of paper with my prayers for our world to heal
The wailing western wall, a holy grail
My hand held steady against a small sweet spot of stone, mine momentarily,
Press my hand against ancient limestone
Can’t control the flow of my tears 
Hard to reach through all the bodies to press my hand through 
Other women clamor to touch the wall
Maybe think the wall will heal the
People from many lands and many religions, 
Lay our hands on together, on this sacred stone wall
All hope for love, relief, a better life, for everyone
The wall crowded with thousands of us praying together, 
People from many lands and many religions all here like one
Lay our hands on this sacred stonewall, ancient limestone 
Pray for family, pray for peace, 
Pray for a better world 
Pray humanity will survive, whatever befalls us
Pray for love, relief, a better life, for loved ones
For everyone, everywhere, humanity together, for once and for all…

Monday, July 23, 2018

Louisiana Catch Book Review By Sweta Srivastava Vikram

Louisiana Catch 

By Sweta Srivastava Vikram

265 pages

Modern History Press
Ann Arbor, MI 48105

April 2018 Fiction

ISBN 9781615993543 (ePub, PDF, Kindle, ebook)   $5.35
ISBN 9781615993529 (softcover, acid-free paper)      $21.95
ISBN 9781615993536 (hardcover, acid-free paper)    $30.09

Caught by surprise, reading about a young lady living and working in New Delhi, I wondered why was Louisiana Catch the title. This became clear later when Ahana visited New Orleans to be with family and to work.  I was glad to become reacquainted with New Orleans through Ahana’s eyes. Through the narrative, I came to know and understand Ahana. I didn’t always agree with Ahana, yet, I always liked her. Ahana comes from a very privileged family, yet that is not enough to protect her from marrying an abusive man, and attracting another man, who at first, she regards as a friend from an online therapy group. 

The subject is very timely with all the “Me Too” today in the news and everyday comes someone new with new accusations. Every day we see people who we thought we respected, arrested and going to jail. Men with money and power have always been keen to use their power to control the women in their professional and personal lives. This book is about women and the power we wield when we stand up for what is right and help others. It is about human rights and also about losing people we love, suffering and finding love. 

Ahana is likeable and a bit naïve. Broken, from a first abusive marriage, she allows herself to fall into paranoia, wondering if he is in touch with her ex-husband and that’s how he knows so much about her. At first, she takes his friendship as a gift and the more he demands and pounds at her emotionally, the more she makes excuses for him, and the more she cajoles him and becomes afraid to confront him, suspicious he may be following her. What woman who has escaped abusive relationships doesn’t know this feeling? Here, I see and say, “me too,” having gone though an abusive marriage myself. And like the “me too” movement shows, when we open ourselves up to the truth, we can finally let go of our fears and our history. 

I think the part of Ahana that needs healing is so wound up and traumatized that she is blind when she meets Jay at an online therapy group for members who have recently lost a parent, after her mother suddenly passes away. She simply takes Jay at his word, and accepts him for who he says he is, someone too who has suffered through a mother’s loss. Every time Ahana asks Jay about himself, no matter how simple, for example, is he dating or where he lives he rebukes her as to why, as his best friend, she is hassling him which results in her feeling guilty and unworthy. Ahana makes excuses for what he says and why, and centers the blame on herself. I assume that this is where the cycle of abuse comes in, and Ahana is unable to see that she is repeating history by letting Jay speak to her in ways that demean her. 

When her household cook and her cousin point out the inconsistencies in Jay’s behavior and more importantly, the negative effects on her, at first she is not ready to listen. Eventually she gets to the point where she clearly sees his game but by this time, she is fearful and paranoid that perhaps Jay knows her husband and has learned about her from him. 

At one point I wanted to yell at her, “Ahana, why are you giving this Jay guy so much importance in your life and why don’t you just cut him out?” At that point I totally identified with Ahana’s cousin, Naina. And why wouldn’t I, since Naina is a mental health professional like myself.

Throughout the novel, Ahana is fighting her demons and has left a high paying position to coordinate a women’s conference to raise awareness about violence and abuse of women, which is part of how she overcomes her own trauma. The other part of how she overcomes her trauma is through her relationship with Rohan Brady, who Ahana must work with on the conference, called NO EXCUSE.  I’m not sure how cell phone service works in India, however I do have an online poetry friend in India who has called me occasionally and he assures me when he calls me I don’t pay, and I never have! 

At one point, early on in the communication between Ahana and Rohan, when Ahana is still in New Delhi, Rohan calls Ahana, and Ahana says she has to hang up because she doesn’t want to pay international fees. There were also a few typos I hope they fixed in the final version. 

Ahana has misjudged Rohan as misogynist because of his online persona.  As for Jay, and his abusive and baiting behavior, it is well past the middle of the book when she finally begins to see through his gameplay, and after everyone around her and even two women in her online therapy group have warned her repeatedly about him. Ahana finally asks her cousin’s husband for help and since he is a police officer, it comes to light that Jay has criminal history. 

In all, the novel is very personal and readable, a quick reader for me, once I got into the details. I was also glad that there was a list of characters in the beginning for review since Indian names are foreign to me, this list made it easy to follow the characters in the beginning. I recommend this novel, to women especially, as this is book is about women and love, violence towards woman and clearly makes the point – that all violence and verbal abuse is always unacceptable. The other important insight is to always tell and not keep abuse a secret. This step is by far, the most important in overcoming tendency to allow abusers or toxic people into your life. Ahana makes this point very clearly in her work.