These Gifts They Keep On Giving

one never knew what she would do
with the gift they gave
thus learning when
giving a gift to
truly let it go

so she held her in her heart
told her of her many dreams
hugs her while children play
the boogieman’s retreat

truly let it go
anger only hurts
forever if you hold it
inside your gut inside your head
implosion is quite fully non predictable

somewhere there’s a daisy a day
somewhere children free to play
over the rainbow is over here
what’s left to say seys Simon

Imperial Woman : Holy Slut

really behind the point of
paternal intrigue
is freedom of women
who have been
caught in any web
created by myths/pathos
family/religions/cultures passed on
for however thousands of years –
closet door wide open now
even the squeaky door of
lives lived in quiet desperation
all have paid the price my Dear
from Virgin Births
to Holy Sluts
and Sisters
re-reminding
of Sisterhood.

God Is Walking Wounded

blame it on all past generations

to where you have evolved

without which them

never would have happened

now we understand

measures of pain are in us all

honor this or that

when meeting

we all have measured miles to keep

before we sleep in angels tending
all thru all our nights

now and then a visit

Dead Lies the Dove in my Garden

shovelling a hole he was
next to the grave of canine Rojo
from my window calling i
“what are you doing?!”
preparing to bury a dead bird
he says, walks to my window and shows me
in his careful hands
a dead Dove it was dead
burial complete he takes his leave muttering
“bad omen”
bad for whom he did not postulate
nor i
i/we wood shudder
enough
at the symbol.

Humming Bird Heart

when she smiles
it’s a flitter
when she looks
it’s a glitter
every eye she sees
she’ll be seeing you
in the Rockies
in the Springtime
how
you say
might she retain
in her tiny brain
tinier heart
each and every touch?
a zillion beats per minute
oh human heart that jumps
what lucky good fortune
to know the flittering wings
keep time
with humming bird heart

from Mutter to Operaphila

{..}

it was too good to be true, still
a delight to feel the possibility
a dreamed described lives
if in a distant
past or future
object being
no more important than the subject
the verb remains love

the body speaks louder than words
dear long-hair-operaphila Reading Terminal Market
his eyes, to a non-believer, said
“Yes, I’m real!”
4th or 5th time to watch
esta momenta
still makes me giggle out loud

yet this second day of Winter
and truthiness
what a wonderful gift to we the people
and we who have never been inside an opera house
such joy in many faces, magic in a few
audience as part of the show –
a pleasant surprise

bravo! bravo! bravo!