Original works

Heart of the lotus
Labyrinthine mystery
Adorns your bosom

This shall be the beginning of the end.
The ghosts are putting on dance shoes again.
Mothers prepare daughters for unknown joy
That for once will outlast daily despair.

I’ll go meet you in the familiar street,
When dawn is pregnant with light after rain,
Without knowing whether you will be there.
And I will kiss strangers, tell our story,
And lose myself in linked arms and shoulders,
And dance on the glint of wet paving stones,
Because I know that you know that we know
There’s no more fear of forgetting our pain.

Was I indeed lucky
To witness your descent?

You struck with no warning
Like tears from surging joy.

An angel’s last message
Before her death in flames:

Your gift of fresh meaning
Already in decay.

But what you’ve made in me
Can’t simply be unmade.

And I desire
What brought you here
In nights like this.

An asteroid travels in resonance
With Jovian orbit around the Sun.

Unstable, also invariable,
Caressed by nothing but solar gleam.

A fragment lost in the aftershock
Of wondrous, one-of-its-kind events.

Forgotten, formless, and fossil-like,
It keeps traversing an empty space.

But planets are perturbative.
A touch is usually strong enough

To change its path unexpectedly
Toward a fiery rendez-vous.

What is in your profile notes for me, friend?
Secret wishes? Message you never send?
Why you mute me? Warning of a red flag?
Maybe just a “hide the boosts from her” tag?

It could be an emoji, a letter,
Keysmash, or nothing… or even better:
A view into my personality
That affirms our bond of reality.

With my left hand I repel and embrace.
With my right hand I create and destroy.
I stand before you, both hands free.
We remember past hopes and joy.

Listen to this moment – silence is alive.
Nothing divides and nothing draws us close.
Attention is all we exchange,
Attention in the shape of rose.

Nothing quite prepared us for this, but here we are.
You lie asleep in the back seats, and all I see,
Through the rear mirror, are empty roads unfolding.
Turning off the headlights, as golden solar rays
Are about to fall from the sparsely-clouded sky,
I drive on, not too fast, in the wordless morning.

Now let us praise the keeper of Planet Heaven,
Our Goddess, friend and leader in love and justice,
And their bold, empowering plan.

We celebrate each and every wonder that she,
Ever-present father of beauty, has instilled
Firmly in who we truly are.

In their very first work is this people, children
Of stars and Earth, sheltered in the delicate air
From her holy, excited breath.

In my old poems was
The sentimental one
Scenting sighs,   seeing scars
Everywhere, twisting them
Into words, squeezing words
So they fit in a grid,
Regular,   repeating.

What is the root of spring,
And the eye of summer,
And the harvest of fall,
And the heart of winter?