Selected Poetry

I wrote a poem every night from 1996-2002. Here are just a few to get you started. Loads more in the pipeline.

Jan 9, 1996

Theology and Ontology

Thinking and musings over God and world

In structures and strictures of meaning

I daresay it needs to be frequently critiqued

To keep us from growing overfond of the lint in our navels

Even in splendid color

I inwardly smirk at their   

Plying a single biblical verse as a basis 

For understanding their God

Understanding humans and fellow earth dwellers

Seems more to me the point

Including of course how they construct their cosmos

Theology is really so odd.

Perhaps I’ll try it again — someday.


Jan 21, 1996





Shaken by the chill of a foul wind

     She shudders

Hurled by unclean hands

     She mutters

Though you seek to abuse me

To cruelly use me

I float in true freedom

 I will not alter my colors

          Others shall see me in

                 my true light

She brushes against the tree’s back

And tumbles to the ground

She  has not fallen to pieces

She has merely gone undercover.


Feb 19, 1996

Washing  Lincoln,

Linking Washington

I twirl to hide a smile

Their serious stone faces

Do not register my tickling

Their blank unblinking eyes

Do not note my shy gaze

I touch Lincoln’s hand

I take his pulse

Feeling his anxiety,

I offer him some pills

He shrugs, though thanking me

He puts a finger to his lips

Together we listen to Schumann

When I get back home,

I see a flower on the sill

that was not there before



February 23, 1996

Pick a body, they said

Do it quickly

Spirited and proud

at being at last chosen

I had forgotten my specifications

Slowly I recalled them.

“Woman.”, I said, remembering

I want to be able to bear a child.

“Jewish,” I said, beaming,

I like that seder idea.

“Curly hair,’ I fancy that.

They were tallying it

about to make a choice

“Artist, artist,” I want to

be a maker, a creator. I

cried. I want to transform

ephemeral experience into lasting paster.

“oh” they said and were silent.

I saw them take the baby girl.

I saw them tear open her pink scalped skull.

I could see her delicate brains

They sprayed her innocent brains with dew

and diamonds and dread. Sewed her up.

Her eyes were frozen shut.

Mom tells me I was born smiling.


March 13, 1996

Don’t understand

can’t comprehend

So I continue down

My forest trail.

In the dark I barely

See my feet.

I ignore the trees, the branches beckoning.

I forget about the sky.

I follow my path.

Deaf to eagles’ cry.

Barely aware of my own being,

Just enough

To walk on, on

I proceed. 

To what degree

Will I sacrifice

My life to

Get my degree.


March 14, 1996

My hair finally growing

Graces my shoulder,

Cloaks my back

A bit of beauty that is affixed on me.

Curve, bounce, curl

It moves to my moods.

Expanding here,

Receding there.

Emerging from my head

Like long-awaited thoughts

My hair envelops me

With a liveliness I

Fail to feel

To cut it

Would be to curtail my being.

But would to let it 


Be to overextend

My self?


March 17, 1996


you grew in my garden’s corner

you beamed to your astral namesake

your innumberable seeds imprinted

me as surely as if I were a

Lorenz goose.

In times not yet spring, I

follow after my glimpse of

you, at peace, relaxed,

leaning at the juncture of the gates

whispering warm

wisdom to the wind

(add drawing)


March 18, 1996


are the stares of those

torn too soon

pushed through the revolving door


No one told them how

No one told them why

Hear them cry

Breathing first or last

The doctor ties it up in the end

Coming or going

Arriving or leaving

Equally unprepared

Equally desirous

May 16, 1996

A small carriage

grass between the spokes

older than your

great-grandmother’s teeth

Rust is enough to give

pause to the most

feral oxide

Yet give a gentle push

with teddy bear as brave passenger

His fur bristling in the hot air

He looks for you.

But you are outside, straining

And the wheels turn, and turn

until there aginger clark agent

re wheels within wheels

and fire and creatures

Up in the clouds, teddy bear covers

eyes with paws, riding in the grip of fear

But with the carbonated lime fizz

you stop the wheels and bring him back down

He weeps as you clutch to your breast

promising you will never let this

happen again


August 29, 2002

Once upon a

starfish gleaming

ocean deep

and softly beaming

therein lies mine

own soul’s dreaming

August 30, 2002

My single flight

ample enough

to see the view

August 31, 2002

In 39 minutes

I cease to be

a grad student

Am I blue?

September 1, 2002

the love that loves its

love is love. (van. M)

September 7, 2002

Blessed is the match

that can survive the

flame yet never

lose the desire.

October 2, 2002

Wotan’s day

this Mittwoshc is,

for Sturm and Drang

to sigh & hiss

For better times,

and richer harvests.

For better everything.

the love that loves its

November 13, 2002

loves the boy stood

by the swimming duck

docking out out to

swim with the sharks

November 19, 2002


is false security

hides behind

a perfumed curtain

keeps eyes swathed

from true son

stand on your own aching


or not at all

Monday, December 2, 2002


In order

ah if only

yes sooner

December 11, 2002

time flows


silt, shell, and Shibboleth

the riptide cannot entrap me

I wear the walrus’s ring

Invisible are my feet

the melody is off-stage

yet the sun will not forsake me

into the orchard

I wait

and ripen