My Poetry

  Places She Ran Albuquerque in October blazing sunrise  colorful constellations dot azure skies.  Eagle’s view fails to find fragments she left behind.  Ghosts of conquistadors homesteaders and warriors inhabit El Paso- desert  jewel reflected in the Rio Grande. Kings of the rodeo could not lasso her though- she ran to Memphis and shared her blues with Beale Street. Never found grace in Graceland only dreams pawned in glittery shops for a quart of gin. Reflections distort in the sun, where she took a pretty boy's virginity to replace the one she left under a willow tree. Vapid thoughts eased pain weaving through her mind. Xavier wasn’t her savior yesterday is never really gone, and Zion is not where she belongs. __________________________________________________________ I was raised in a cultish religion and I felt smothered by it, so when I was 17, I ran away from home. I hitchhiked back and forth across the country for 7 months.  Sometimes it feels like ...

Before you read this, you need to know that every word of it is true. Every. Single. Word.  Magically Delicious My son chased down a Leprechaun yesterday, the wind blew his hair laughter filled the air, he ran after the wily little man without a care. Just as Graham nearly had him pinned, that Leprechaun darted in another direction trying to find someplace to hide, but the luck of the Irish was not on his side, for Graham was unshakable, and soon he had hold of the little man with the green suit and orange hair. Graham demanded his gold because everybody knows if you catch a Leprechaun he has to give you his pot of gold. That Leprechaun just stared at Graham with a tricky glint in his eyes and kept quiet about where his treasure was hidden so Graham turned him up-side-down and shook him! But there was no gold to be found because Graham had only captured a paper Leprechaun, you see. He was not disappointed though not at all because his imagination was filled with endless possibiliti...

  Elementary, Dear Valentine.  Paper hearts taped to chalkboards. Balloon hearts tied to chairs. Sweet sentiments pinched between anxious fingers. Anticipation thicker than caramel. Tired Cupids pink and white passed out on red napkins next to plastic cups- fruit punch to wash down the sugar rush. The mystery is who left the chocolate kiss on your desk? A shy glance whispers and giggles cheeks turn hot pink. Smiles lined with icing, tongues lick sticky fingers clean. I’m Yours Be Mine Walking home with a bag full of Valentines. _________________________________________ Just a silly poem for Valentine's Day.  Happy Valentine's Day, James. 

  Swaddling the Moon The wind was excitement and cooked oats. Expectation was a big, red circle on the calendar. Dreams were Crayolas scattered on the rug sleepless nights in a rocking chair lullabies and college tuitions. Cramped fingers ran along fairy-tale edges for nine short weeks unable to pinch its chubby cheeks. To dilating eyes the sky was watered down but I could see vultures circling. I screamed, threw stones begged them to leave but the horizon was crumpled tissue bleeding. The moon emerged smaller than a silver dollar with no footprints or photographs. We cradled it in mournful hands all sad words smeared in tears and we never knew whether to swaddle it in pink or blue. _________________________________________________ It's pretty abstract, but I think you can figure out what it is about. I try to convey it through imagery and metaphor. It's an old poem. It was so painful that it took me 12 years just to be able to write about it. It's been published twice.  ...