Friday, May 11, 2018


I see you -hiding inside -under so many layers of fat, carefully placed and misplaced
Inside and outside, you gain and lose in a cycle of fat to thin again
I try to see it is me but I see someone else, she’s not me. 
That woman I see in the mirror, I deny she’s me. 
I want to stop eating, makes my life so complicated because everything seems to be about food while life becomes more sedentary against my will
I don’t know what to do, so many theories about emotions
I want to walk more but my feet hurt, sometimes my hips ache, time chimes
Reflects my image in a mirror, Caught in a web of suspense to see who I am today cause everyday when I awake I’m a new becoming me
Betrayed by my shell, I hide as much of me as I can inside armor
Keep crying help, keep on trucking doing what I do
My system runs amuck and a thunder – I wish I could control my mind
I’m addicted to food – hard to forego food
Eat falafel - fills me up so much, eat Baba -Ghanoush loaded on tons of salad, 
seems to not matter – no matter what I consume … I can’t say, no excuses
Digesting food takes up too much time – I feel like I’m part of organized crime defending sublime
Give me water, honey and lemon- I promise I’ll still survive
I question me– why am I doing this to myself
Yet I hide myself watching me, I see myself from the outside
Creep out from the inside
I yell free me so I can move with the flow
I creep back inside to hide me from myself 
you know where I’m going with this
From humiliation and aspirations all combined, tied with a big purple bow
Put in front of you I am me in front of me I see me and become afraid Of who I am that I made me who I am to you I am you in a wounded knee I see who we are 
Who – attempt to reject self loathing
I am me, wounded, beneath who you are
Hide in plain sight in an underground version of myself
I ride deep waves within myself, diving deeper I fear I’m forever lost
Who is the self I claim to be trapped inside me waiting for a way outside myself
No escape, like a trapped bull in china of life trying to escape from myself 
Caught in an endless loops of myrioscope kaleidoscope color
Endless blues persist as I judge who I am
I see a violet sky inside me
Exploding in years of pain
Abstaining from gain I constrain myself
I’m a bloodstain of pain from which I came
I hide from myself and ask how did I ever withstand myself
Caught on a continental shelf I conspire to divide myself, prove myself, 
I will be a band of oneself to expand and assert myself, 
I will be a prayer of despair 
More morbid in beware
Nothing works that worked before
Now I hear all in my head
If I eat properly and see myself thin I will be – really?
Compare healthcare 
Impaired, play side chair in the affair, arise out of nowhere, I exist, I am somewhere, here to defend
I am sightseer in my own life, like a replay game in surround sound, can’t understand fear is …
So lonely inside, longing for love, I seek, I cry, 
worth the weight, FATE of my soul, I inquire, FIRE up insights

Friday, May 04, 2018


In reverie of poetry, permit me to say
I’ve put up with my fair share of despair and let me downs
 -some hard - some easier
It’s all the same, like disappointment about disparaging remarks about my pink hair
Hair’s faded from bright red I admit
Hearing insults from important poets known on the scene about my poetry not being “real” poetry 
My poetry’s not authentic; it’s eccentric
I don’t know how you can get more real than me
My poetry is me and then some more
It has room for me and you in store
You find yourselves in here, inside a poem
Be careful what you say round me
I will quote you
in a poem
It’s no good to say I should delay
You say and pray I won’t consider putting your words in a poem even though you know that’s what I do
Repeat after me – I forbid you to put this in a poem
So if it’s not goose for the gander stop feeding me
Give me some respect for what I do
I spill my blood and guts for you
I receive letters from people who read what I write
I received one today from a nice girl. She said she’s sorry for my life, she feels so sad for me, she’s just glad she’s not here where I am, she wouldn’t know what to do if she stood here where I stand in my shoes,
She doesn’t know anyone who’s had it this bad
She just don’t know how I manage to survive a life this sad
I told her, "Suicide’s a waste of time,
I’d rather spend my energy writing poetry."
She said, "You suck at poetry!
You can’t write “real” poetry anyway."
You think I’m pulling your leg?
Then whose leg am I pulling? ~
Damn, if I had my legs pulled a little, maybe this hip pain wouldn’t hurt so bad
So I’m an old fool who writes poetry – 
What did you say you do?