Written in 1985.
I’m in a box.
I’ve been here
a long time.
There’s no way
out.
All eight corners
are the same.
All six sides
have been scrutinized.
I stare
in hopes that I
might see
something new.
Maybe there are pores
with minute creatures
living inside.
If I look
long enough
maybe I shall see.
I was cleaning out my fiction and poetry files this weekend in preparation of renewing my efforts and found this weird little poem I wrote on Oct. 16, 1995. In fact, I don’t remember writing it. It’s in my handwriting and I do remember the line about the streamers, but everything else was like reading…
This poem was written circa 1975. I’d forgotten all about it until my mother called me and told me she wanted to read to me a poem written by a 9-year old girl. When she was done, she asked me if I remembered it. I said it sounded familiar … maybe I’d read it on…
Written in 1983. Wastepaper basket filled to the brim with wads of fresh, new paper. Desk cluttered with paper, ink and pencils. A slumped figure snores over a sheet of paper. The words “Once upon a time . . .” are scribbled out on the top line. Looking closer at the wads in the basket,…
Written Feb. 26, 1992. Paradise is space to grow to expand to soar like a bird wind in my hair in my wings in my sails pushing me along the sea Paradise is the warmth of the sun caressing my skin gently freedom to be anything I want including nothing Paradise is the sweet taste…
This poem was an experiment … pushing my comfort level with expressing sexual desire. It was written February 20, 1991. Let my lips enfold you like petals about the stamen Let my hand caress you like the ocean caresses the shore Let my eye behold you more beautiful than a Rembrandt Your touch is like…
One of my goals for this year is to get better at relationships. Since I kind of failed in my marriage, my goal is to get it right next time. One of the pieces of advice I’ve been following is this: To attract your soul mate, you must feel that your soul mate is already…