An elephant without a face greeted me
on Facebook today,
his trunk and tusks
hacked away by poachers eager for ivory.
At first I thought it was a watermelon
sliced in half,
mistaking the pinkish blood
for the pulpy flesh of succulent fruit.
Why bother to extract excessive teeth
and risk being...
ELEGY
I am trying to catch the best of
Life as lived with my grandchildren
I am trying to comprehend death
When I see humans good as dead
As a sudden explosion transforms
A house of healing
Into grim inferno of the dead and the dying
And wounded children wailing
Desperately looking
For...
For that one person that I never met,why does my heart feel so shallow?you take a huge portion of my soulyet somehow we never crossed paths.
The whole universe stops when I imagineyou making dreams better than all realities.Two entities dazzling in the void...
Yarn, like stemsWinding around a steel bough.
Shaped into something different,Gloves, a scarf – a present For your absentee mother.
Stalks pulled apart by tensionWith lasting curls, Never returning to what it was.
They start when the sunlight isstill soft. They wear their sarok, farm’subiquitous item. From afar, theylook like banana plants that sag at the weightof their bulky fruits. I can’t fully hear theiroccasional conversation. Maybe they talkabout fixing their lone radio, which spurtsout nothing...
Delivered from the lights of heavenand strolling earth with the likeness of Godsuppressed by society’s sanctioned sinsconvulsing norms and gospel’s grounds
Mother of many but with no wombhands are dainty as the flowers in Mayholding the bodies on the bloody paradeFlags torn down on...
I used to hate rain.
My heart would trembleupon its arrival.Announcing its comingwith grey, dreary,and foreboding skies.
I used toclose the curtain,draw the blinds,close my eyes,and...
The chisel as creator
Lends shape to wood, to stone.
Shape being the truth of character,
Reality of body and bone,
Sculpted fact of form,
The confidence of matter.
The...
Frost eyes stare
into the layers
and layers underneath.
Rotate, adjust, rotate, adjust.
some eyes are made
to look at what’s under
miscroscopes
and see the dinosaur-old cells
within barely human
humans.
Cold hands...
On Sundays and belonging,And when I used to mess around with Lolo’s typewriter:Clicking and clacking the worn-out buttons, it is legacySounding against my stubby...