Beautifuldreamer

My step-father is a tattoo-knuckled dictator,
hair buzzed cut
military style.

His power lies in the sour moods he wields
as a weapon: he barks an order, or spews ridicule,
and we are fel…

My eyes burn hot
unblinking as the moon,
too stoic to shed tears over falling stars.

The ocean beckons me
but I am much too wise to be so easily led captive,
drowned before nightfall on the waves of my past.

My heart’s a prison from which there is no escape.
You ask me to share its depths with you,
but it’s only so many words
and night has set in once more.

We pass by like strangers
isolated within our own heads.
A weird planet, this, populated with the living dead.

We speak in superficial terms to communicate our dreams
but satisfaction gua…

Once upon a time
a lonely teardrop fell,
it soon began to trickle and like a river swell.
It recruited other teardrops,
they slithered and they swam until, like a mighty raging,
they preva…

I am a wallflower at a prom, desperate for a glimpse of you.

I am an empty box of cereal which promised but failed to include a special prize

I slid behind the wheel and said, "You know, I’ve Got a Feeling we’ll never forget the Things We Said Today."

Seconds before you attempt the single most important act of your life, you take a deep breath, close your eyes, and insert the key.

You think, something is wrong with me that my perceptions are so jumbled, but still you move forward. This you do, you move forward.

Was this a safe household? Would seeing the accouterments of my femininity tempt a father, a brother into perverted acts? I had to know.

The first snow of winter, sifting down as beautifully delicate as a gifting of grace. My son holding his daughter for the first time, tears streaming down his face. Chocolate cake warm from the…

This morning I awoke remembering how fun it was watching Maddy, my 2 year old granddaughter, draw with crayons the other day. I’d taken her for a few hours so that her parents could get some…

A different universe was all I wanted, one in which I was not invisible. I wanted my real name back and with it, my unique identity

Oh, there are secrets floating in the air like dust motes you can see when someone walks through a room, disturbing molecules in their wake.

Because—
today the rain slants in familiar direction
needling the generous porches
of homes built in the era of
my early childhood.

Because—
when I looked in the mirror
I saw that A…

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The three sisters across the street

live with their divorced mama.

They wear cool outfits,

flipping long ironed hair ove…

You stole summer from me
on the wrinkled bed
you shared with my mother,
as your eager fingertips explored my depths,
forging new trails into my being
to which you would return, like hidden…

When first we found our voices
they were cartoonish mouse squeaks

earning us raised eyebrows and smirks.
We were not a force to be reckoned with, not yet.
First the squeak must give way …

He said any place is home,
to which I replied:

If I minded the rain I’d not live in Oregon.