Thursday, December 31, 2015

Some Times

Sometimes women let me know
That they think that we should
Hook up.

They see something in me.
They think that we are a fit.

But my belief is,
Built on all of my experience,

Is that when they know me,
They will throw me away.

They will throw me away.

You can imagine that,
Based on that,

I have no willingness to try.
I have no willingness to try.

Risk Is A Struggle

You give to me you curriculum vitae:
You take care of the homeless
You have a good good heart.

But still I struggle
    To chance,
        To risk.

I do not know you,
And a lifetime of all my taken risks
Has taught me that no one really cares
And that everyone lies.

If my struggle to trust and to believe
Is too much for you to bear,
If it is too hard,
I am not surprised.

Go with my blessing.
Go with my blessing.
Bless you.
Good bye.

I don't know how
To be other than I am.

Friday, December 25, 2015

Christmas Cheer

Trying to endure
This bleak bleak day
Nothing to do.
Everything is closed.
Nowhere to go.
My four walls crush me
Barely existing.
Bare -- ly

        I hope I don't cut.

Wednesday, December 23, 2015

They Do Matter

I just heard someone say
That Black Lives Matter protesters
Were idiots because their protests
Inconvenience people.
They went on to say that the
Protests also sometimes get

I felt like I had suffered
Violence just hearing that.

Blacks are really killed
And beat up
And arrested
All unjustly
Not rarely, or
On occasion, or
It has happened, but
All of the time.
All of the time.

For real.
Get your head out.
Growing up black in America
Means that people treat you
How they want and get
Away with it.
If you don't believe that
Then you are blind.
And also an idiot.

And violence at protests?
Yes, some white supremacists
Opened fire on some peaceful
Black Lives Matter protesters
In Minneapolis who had
The temerity to be protesting
The shooting of young
Jamar Clark who police shot
And killed
Some say
While he wore handcuffs.

The white supremacists
Shot the protesters
Next to the police station.
The police responded by macing
Protesters who were giving
First aid to the shooting victims.

So if you are inconvenienced
By the protests
I hope that you will stop
And listen
And wake up
And say no.
Not in my America.
We stand for something
Better than that here.

Tuesday, December 22, 2015


Possible no
Oh, how I wish


I worry too much
About the rightness of what I do
And then a woman
Maybe she's crazy


Maybe not and
With her umbrella crosswise out
She goes by and
I have to laugh at myself

She knows appearance is
She knows
And my worry sleeps.

Two Women

To see two women

And to see the one –
Larger than life
And to need the other –
Just need her to be mine

And to know the one
Too much for me,
And to know myself
Too little for the other

That is such a lonely thing
A thing of deep felt pain
And still, and still,
How grand to have seen them.

I don't regret.

Saturday, December 19, 2015

I Need

To belong in truth
And right.
And to believe that
Peace has a chance
That we can do it.
I need too.
That there is a better
In everyone.
In everyone.
Yes you party girl.
That you are also deep.
That something is more important
Than drunken bar time hookup.
That justice can be had
That people are good.
That we can be inspired.

Wednesday, December 16, 2015

You're Black

I think you are so attractive.
I want you.
I see that you see yourself as black
And that you see yourself as woman
You couldn't possibly do else
I I celebrate that because it is
The you that is you that I want,
I like you.
But I worry.

I don't see you that way.
You are not a thing.
You are not a category.
You are the you that is you to me, but

Will you be able to see me?
Will you be able to see the like in me?
Will you see the admiration in me?
Or will that be coloured by
Your perception of me as white and you as black?
Me as old, you as young.

Image of me, image of you,
Instead of the you and the me
That is in front of you.

The whole world has conspired to make you feel that way.

I think you are so attractive.
I think you are perceptive and smart
I think that having _you_ see, really _see_ me
Would be something really important to me
But here's my fear -- that your pain at the way
The world has treated you all your life
Will shape the way you see me and see you.

You act like you want me, but
We are not of an age
We're in a bar
I am drunk
And so are you.

I am white, you are black.
It is heady for you that I treat you as
I treat any other human
(Isn't that sad that that would seem strange to you?)

You have a good opinion of me because I'm not a dick.
But thinking about how great you think I am will not
Make make up for not knowing a damn thing about me.

I do not believe.
I can not believe
That if you knew the me that is me,
That you would really care.

I _can not_ believe.
No one has _ever_ tried to _really_
Change  my mind.
So it can not be true.

I don't have any judgement of you
Because you have a judgement of me
And of you, but
I do have trouble seeing how you can know
That you want me.

You do not see me.
You do now know me.
Some day you will know and
If I don't match up to your vision
Then you might throw me away.

It is not that I judge your judgement.
It is of you and thus part of what I admire,
But I just don't believe
That when you finally see me
That I am something you would ever want.
Even though I admire.
Even though I want.

And how could I aspire to mess up
The thing I wish for
And desire.
Just sayin'.

Tuesday, December 15, 2015

I don't know

I am pushed and torn
And feel the things
And I feel all of the things
And I need to tell you
And I need to tell you
But I don't know
I don't know what
I feel so much
And I must tell it
But. I. Do. Not. Know.

Sunday, December 13, 2015


When the sun went below
The horizon it seemed as if
It might never come again
Never come again.

Hearts  darkened and shrank
Spirits quivered.

And in the midst of terror
Came a light
Came a light
And love happened.

Eyes crept open
Spirits crushed unfolded
Hope arose.
Hope arose.

Monday, December 7, 2015

Just right

I hardly know her
Smart girl
Studying in school,
But my eyes are so
Content to joy her
Across the room
Her solid competence
Her surety
The way she perfects
The simplest of tasks.
All with good personing
Audio girl.

Saturday, December 5, 2015

Double Sided Tape

I kept being distracted across the room —
Because — her top kept slipping off one shoulder
And when she turned her back
She was low-cut bare to the waist so I knew
That there was no bra and
That she must have the most perfect
Breasts I could ever imagine, and
I know her. She serves me coffee. And
I am feeling really really uncomfortable
Imagining the shapes of her breasts and
I came in here to drink some damn coffee and
Read my book and do some people watching
And now, every time I look up there goes that strap
And nothing sags at all and
Just stop looking! And I look everywhere and
I look anywhere else and
Crap, I can't focus on the damn book any more and
She is just the nicest kid and why?
I don't think I'll ever be able to look her in the face again.
Show less

Friday, November 27, 2015

Good After Another

Reading other's poems
And wondering
Am I a slacker?
They write poems
Good after another

Wednesday, November 25, 2015

You Out There?

Each of us

                           An island

Of conciousness.

I don't understand

                               How it's possible
           To                                                        communicate

Saturday, November 21, 2015

I See Her

I see her on her first date
And I see her decide that she
Will give it a shot and that
She will not react to me.
Will not react to me.
And I honour her and
Take such joy from the fact
That she had to decide that.
She saw something in me
That made her have to choose.

Thursday, November 12, 2015

The Open Mike - Voz Sin Tinta

She stood, impassioned
And, (by memory!) seized
Our imaginations and then
Our very souls.

I had to follow that!

So I said, as we do, that
I had mine not by memory
(Though I did have my smart phone).
It is a tradition you see.

Then she, not even knowing
Of my worship,
Said that it was ok because
I have green in my  hair.

Well! I hadn't even started reading
And already I was a hit.

Monday, November 9, 2015

That Look

There's a kind of look –

    a graceful lank.

Somewhere between

    tomboy lesbian

        and — gymnast.

With smart.

    And smirk.

        And sudden pirouette.

Inhabits her voice.

    Knowing yet joyous smile.

I like that look.


Saturday, November 7, 2015


Here's the thing.
When I quit long ago,
I swore to be supportive,
But when I hear you wheeze,
When you tell me about the polyps,
I am enraged, and even I,
Calm placid Patrick, I
Want to rage,
And rant.


Latina girl
Hispanic beauty
Why can't I stop
Thinking about you?

Friday, November 6, 2015

Hurting us.

He kept abusing her
Demeaning, yelling
I asked him not to yell.
It was hurting us.

Friendly Puppy

When I've been drinking I am like a friendly puppy:

Hey! You want to like me?
Hey! You want to like me?
Hey! You want to like me?
Hey! You want to like me?

At least I don't poke my nose anywhere.

Wednesday, November 4, 2015


You worked me for six dollars
And then you ran off to deal with those
That you care for.

I am not your chump
Do not think that i will be your bank
You burnt that bridge.

It is the end.
The end.

Bye bye.

Tuesday, November 3, 2015


What does it mean
When I am too drunk to resolve two into one?
Do I see some gem-like deeper truth?
Am I given over to another reality
Because I am loosed?
Is there something more that in our
Quotidian truth we miss?


The gem-like glow of drunk
Unable to see one
Shards of reflection
One? Four? More?
Is this more?
Is this precision?
Is this beauty?
I don't know.
I know who I yearn toward
But I do not dare to say.


I see the light cast on her glint red hair
And I shift. Towards her gleam
Toward her glow.
And it is only exactly her glow
That perfects the light.
That perfects the light.
I lean toward.


What does it mean
When I look at one woman
When I look at another woman
And one seems more desirous
Than another.

I don't know.
I see it. I react to it.
I do not understand it.

There are slender variants
That loom large.
I suspect that my genetics
Have a voice. Truly
A powerful voice.
I want her more than her.
I don't know why.
I don't know why.
I do.


Here is the truth.
The cutting you fear
Is my sacrament
Designed for power
Bringing my sanity
Your standards not mine
Your power not mine.
Cutting mine.

Friday, October 30, 2015

My Goddesses

Here it is.
I am supported by others
Who came before. 
Who choose the higher path
Who have suffered
Who have been clearly abused
And who choose love.
Who choose compassion.
OMG I can only hope to be them.

I dedicate this to a hero, +Lindsey Clements 

Saturday, October 24, 2015

Not A Genius

As a child,
I secretly secretly
Hoped I was a genius
One Hundred Fifty IQ
1 5 0 baby!
That's what it takes.
When I found out
As a teen,
That mine
Was only 130
I grieved and then --
Each time I was tested
As I went through life
I hoped that all the previous tests
Were mistaken
But no. Each time;
Just 130 IQ
Good enough for MENSA
But that felt
Like the consolation prize
So I never joined.

Monday, October 19, 2015


She is over there
On the other side of the bar

Giving glances
Just – just short of desire

And I so happy
Feel the same

Admiring her admiring
Nor seriously, just a game

Like meaning to her,
Like meaning to me

And I dancing
And only you could see

The simple homage.

We bow to each other
Like Renaissance dancers

And I love her
Across the bar

I will never meet her
Still, she's my bright star

And I admire her
From afar.

And I will admire her
From afar.

Saturday, October 17, 2015

No Certain

For years now
It has made me no sense
To live my life by plans.
Instead I go by signs
I navigate by portents.

I feel my way.
Less than half
Of this world
And more than half
In the world of the spirit.

To know what to do
I do not consider,
Ponder, think.

I still and wait.
I let the path arise
I'll know when it is right.

Saturday, October 10, 2015

Licht Truth

How I yearn for deeper truth,
For salt
And light
And wind that blinds
And floods washing
Dangerously across my spirit.
Who am I?
Where do I come from?
What am I meant to be?
What is my deeper truth?
Why so broken?
Why abandoned?
Where are you?
Find me.
I need you.

Wednesday, October 7, 2015

I See You

I see you in the bar, so attractive,
And I see you in the sanga, maybe kindred?
And I see you in the world, but still
You are _not_ what I am looking for.

What am I looking for?
What? Am? I? Looking? For?
I don't exactly know.

I know that I will see it.
I know that I will know it.
I know that you will fit my heart.

I look for you. I look to kindred.
I look to joy and belief in the whole..
You think you break the pattern,
But no. The Mother includes you.
You are the patter.
Let me know the patter - the path.

Monday, October 5, 2015

I See You

Short hair sass
Lit up for that guy
Laughing and sweet
I wish it were me.
Beings like you are rare.

Tuesday, September 29, 2015


I know I'm emotional
I'm sensitive and I feel so much
But I don't ever tell you I love you
Because I'm so full of fear

Could a woman like you
Want a man like me?
I know I'm so emotional
It's because I feel so much

Can you believe in me baby
If I could ever tell you of my love
I feel so much for you honey
I'm so so emotional

Saturday, September 19, 2015

It Won't Kill Me

Such anger, such judgement.
Do I think you are judging me,
Or do I just know I do not fit –
That you will not accept
People such as me?
Leave me alone.
Leave me alone.
Leave me alone.
I am just fine.

Friday, September 11, 2015

Plaisir Dans La Douleur

They won't tell you – the cutters
How much of the thing they enjoy.
No. They give back to you
Your limited expectations.

I am trying to stop.
It is so horrible.
It is so dark
So disturbing.
Sorry sorry sorry.

They see no way toward
Telling you the other.
The joy. The peace.
The relief as they cut.
Why did you think they did it?

Nor will they tell you
About how running their
Hand over the furrowed flesh
Made complex by the
Intricacies of the cuts half healed
Is a deeply, intensely,
Pleasurable thing.
The corrugations of the flesh
Just right under the fingers.

So. I will let you in.
There is a reason we cut.
It makes things

They don't tell you
Because they are sure
That you won't understand.

Monday, September 7, 2015

Reason Overcome

Oh, oh, I see her across the room
And my heart speeds
And there's a tightening in my groin
She's beautiful, with a body
Exactly right,
And I think that she has the
Look of the women in my
Ancestry, and even still

My reason cannot overcome
This primal desire.

I would say she was beautiful
If I did not know that it is only
My genetics finding her a good
Place to be deposited. AND
WORSE! I see that she feels
The same way about me, even
Though she is with a guy that
One must assume is her beau.

My reason is overcome by
This primal desire.

And I choose, because I can,
To turn away - to know that I
Am master of my desire.
That I choose beliefs and
Intelligence and integrity --
But I have to wonder. If I
Turn away from every woman
That I am attracted to,
How will my loneliness cease?

My reason is overcome by
This primal desire.

Saturday, August 29, 2015

Friday Night Dharma

She came onto the train
Face wet
Mascara running
Looking like she'd been in a wreck
Eyes flickering around as if
Looking for escape
She walked with strength
Or panic
Or fury
Or numbness
Her habitual attentiveness gone

He followed
Attentive for once
If he didn't want her public pain
He shouldn't have ambushed her
Why did he think it would go well
In public?

She strode through the car
Ignoring and aware
And slid into a seat for two
And turned her face to the window
And as he sat in the seat next to her
She leaned
Horrified at the possibility of touch

And they sat, silent
Ignoring each other
Aware of nothing else.
And in the dark of the tunnel
She tried to fix her eyes
In the mirror of the window
But couldn't bring herself to function
Once her eyes glanced off
Of his reflection
But only once

At their stop
He leapt up
Startled and afraid.
She strode away
Never looking back.
Never looking back
And he followed, her satellite

She was already making her own way
A pair had become two

I watched, and wished I was going their way
And sad
And sad
I yearned to warm myself
Against the fire of her strength
I turned instead
And went to sit
And to hear about the dharma

Wednesday, August 26, 2015

I am so tired

I have spent years trying to figure out
What normal looks like and trying
To emulate, to be it.
I am not normal.
I had a loveless childhood
I had abuse abuse abuse

I am sixty years old and have never
Never never never maintained a friendship
Can you understand that? Well I can't.
I periodically try, sometimes every two
Or three years, sometimes every ten
Or fifteen years, to open and chance and try

But up till now, I have not figured out
How to friend. People will act as if they
Really want time with me for a while
They come around and want to hang out
And I become  encouraged and begin
To reach out to and just maybe do it wrong?

I don't know. I don't know. I don't really know.
I just know that they go away.
Sometimes they tell me they are going away.
They put down a boundary. They tell me that
And sometimes they just stop answering and go.

Am I doing something wrong?
Am I being too needy?
Trust me, I am pretty fucking needy
But I try really hard not to show it.
The truth is that I just don't know, I just
Don't understand how to bond with another.

So. Sixty years of being alone.
Sixty years of just wanting to love
Sixty years of just wanting to be loved.
Translates now, into alone, alone, alone,
And I still don't know how to do
Anything about this fuckin' problem.

Monday, August 24, 2015

Oh, Diana

I know it's not my fault
And that you are not gone
Because I didn't pick up
But how I miss you
How I wish I'd answered

And now years later
A song takes me back
And I cry and miss you
I know it's not my fault
That you are gone.

All all those times with late night
Drunken calls I answered
Every one. I answered every one
But one. How hard to hear
The message that you were gone.

I know it's not my fault
And you are not gone
Because I failed to answer
I know it's not my fault
But you're still gone.

Saturday, August 22, 2015


The world is full of such subtlety
Everyone with their message
From the banal to the creative
Some who think themselves bold
Some who think themselves subtle
Have no idea, have no idea
That their obvious message
Is obscure to the other.
Obscure in art
Obscure in design
Obscure in taste
(Food or fashion or else.)
Celebrate yourself.
Your obviousness is
Someone else's obscurity.
Don't sell yourself short.
You ARE the inspiration of the day.

Tuesday, August 11, 2015


The smell of leaf mould
Somehow goes a place
    in my mind where pain
        gets caught.
It unravels it.
Smell of leaf mold
Sanskrit chants
Someone standing
    against injustice
The triumph of the underdog
All keep me alive.
They unknot despair.
They give respect to my trauma.
They soothe it.
Mental illness catches.
It knots. It mats and tangles
And gives the illusion
That there is no ease.
The smell of leaf mould
Goes to a place
    in my mind where pain
        is often caught.
It unravels it.

Saturday, August 8, 2015

Masculine Oppression

Some times I do not want
To have my attention drawn
To a perfect breast or
A curve of lip or
A toss of hair.


I want to see what
Is without delusion from
My genetics finding
Her genetics suitable
For procreation.


Is she good?
Is she mindful?
Is she interesting?
Is she honorable?
Is she true?


Some times
I do not want
My attention drawn
To a perfect breast
But still, it is.

Wednesday, August 5, 2015

You have

Fucked up you
Have fucked up
You have fucked

You make it too hard.

You don't try.

That tells me.

I am not important

To you.

When you figure it out
Maybe I'll try again.
Perhaps not.

Tuesday, August 4, 2015


Sometimes people understand
That they have screwed up.
But they have screwed up.

They want to fix it
They wish things were fine
But they have screwed up.

They present a new self
A nicer kinder self
But they have screwed up

They want to shape
My image of them
But they have screwed up.

They let me know how they
Really see me
But they have screwed up.

Want to erase
The disdain and nothing
But they have screwed up.

Should I forgive?
They want me to
But they have screwed up.

They let me know
How important I am to them,
But they have screwed up.

I actually see
How important they think I am
They have screwed up.

They think me worthless
They think me nothing
But they have screwed up.

I actually rule, don't suck.
If you don't value me
You have screwed up.

Good bye.


Cats have an effect on women.
Not all cats, mind you,
But asshole cats –
Siamese or their children
That do not suffer fools gladly.

What an effect they have
On the women sort of children.
They demonstrate that women are
The goddesses that run
The universe.

No doubts.
We are the center
Of our universe.
Get in our way at your peril.

In exactly this way are
STEM women created.

Monday, August 3, 2015

Same Old Story

You have heard it
A thousand times
But here it is. Mine.
Fresh over again
In my pain.
I am head over heels
Tumbling in love.

And amazingly
She loves me too
Perfectly, completely.
Not like that.
I won't tell her.
I'll keep my dignity.

Thursday, July 30, 2015

Boyfriends Are Like Shoes

Some pinch and hurt
They aren't a good fit
But oh! How pretty.
Others, comfortable
Dirty and worn
Get you through rough times


Such a beautiful line
Her arm
Fingers graceful
Touching his neck

Monday, July 13, 2015

Random Jerkoff

Let's talk about being mentally ill.
For me, that means that I can be
having a great day,
That nothing goes wrong,
And that I end up filled with pain
And cutting myself.
Let's not talk about
What happens
When something does go wrong.


Today is good
I'm up and showered
Not laying and crying
But the weight is still crushing
Tears aren't far behind my eyes
I hope nothing goes wrong today
Then maybe tomorrow will be better
Or maybe not

Saturday, July 4, 2015


Generous like rain
Generous like baby's smiles
Generous like children's sticky hands
Generous like evening breeze
Generous like the earth
Generous like a seed
Generous like doggie kisses
Generous like love

Stalking Wolf

I breath in slow
Scents drift across —
I know there is something
Something –
I can almost taste it.
It's an idea or a phrase
Or something.

I slow the breath more
Let it barely drift, drift
Drift against the back of my throat
Sliiiiiiiding along my tongue.

I don't want to frighten it
These ones easily startle.
Eyes unfocused
Looking aside
So it won't vanish
Everything is ears and taste
And some more subtle sense.

Don't look yet.
Is it? Let it gather,
Let it become.
Ahhhhh. There is my prey.
I tuck my haunches and POUNCE!


Friday, July 3, 2015

To Eternity

She sits compact
Gazing into eternity
One hand on the tiller
Wind in her hair
Sailing through the storms
Of life and of mental illness
And of temptation

Her small fragile boat
Is miles from any safe shore
At times it's almost awash
But she bails and sails
And mindfully, skillfully
Keeps aim for better shores

Thursday, June 18, 2015

Speaking ONLY to my sisters/brothers.

Oh, what a strange thing for you to be confronted
With a poem from a mentally ill person.
Full of pain from abuse.
I am full of pain from abuse.

I put that pain to sleep with pain.
I cut myself - that puts that pain to bed.
You look at me and see normal
You look at me and project normal.
I am not normal.
I am broken all of my life.
I am broken all of my life.

Does it seem normal to you
That I take an X-ACTO blade to my flesh?
The Z-Series blade is the sharpest
The longest lasting blade in the history
Of X-ACTO blades cutting flesh.

Oh, how I sorrow for you being disturbed
By someone like me that Cuts. My. Flesh.
Probably seems strange to you.
Probably seems strange to you.
Pain to combat pain.
Pain to put pain to sleep.
Pain to survive.
Pain to not kill myself.
There is an explanation.

Pain of the body makes the brain
Tell the body not to hurt.
Pain of the body makes the brain
Tell the body not to hurt.
Pain of the body makes the brain
Tell the body not to hurt.
It settles the pain of abuse.
It settles the pain.

I can survive another day.
I can survive another day.

Do NOT judge me.
You do not in any way understand
Unless you feel a pain like mine.
Unless you are my sister.
Unless you are my brother.
We see.

We see each other.
We love.
I love you.

Wednesday, May 20, 2015


We live in delusion
Choosing to say what is not true
Pretending to believe what is not true
Two steps away from what's real

How subversive it would be
What a revolutionary it would take
To drop away from the stories
And fly away into the real

done in response to a poem by +DEBORAH MORAA​

Sunday, May 10, 2015


He grows, mysterious, unknown.
Alien and unwanted.
Tinted green he is absorbed
As he absorbs.

Tuesday, May 5, 2015


I lay here broken
Waiting for someone
To dig me from the rubble
Unable to write poetry.

Wednesday, April 29, 2015

Waking Up

It is possible
And certainly certain
That I am wrong about many things
That I am sure that I know


Sorrow pours over like ink
Like gel covering – sealing
And I struggle, struggle

To take it in
To transform it to joy
To breathe it out

Grief Swallows Me

I am sorry
I am sorry for
I sorrow
Sorrow in unending supply

Magic Limerick

A chimp walked down the road
Carrying quite a load
He had a balloon
And he sang a tune
And this limerick sucks.

Monkey Play

A monkey swung upon a tree
Throwing poop at you and me
We covered our heads and ran away
'Cause that's not the way we want to play!


To serve means
To give my hands away
To let them be used
By a higher source
For a higher purpose
It sanctifies them.

Service Enlightenment

To serve takes me out of myself
My self disappears
My concerns for appearance
My concerns for image
All gone
All gone
Instead there is only other
And Service
And Spirit
And Love
To serve takes me out of myself
It's a well-trodden path to enlightenment

I Don't Know

I don't know what it might be like
To grow up happy without beatings
To grow up with love and with cuddles.

It left me so confused
So broken
I confuse love and lust

I never felt touch before
I've never known
Compassion - just compassion

Without romance.
It makes me so confused
So I am angry.

I don't get to know
What normal is like
I've always been broken

Thanks a lot.

Weather Surprise

Weather whethers us
With sudden showers
Overcast Days
Sunshine breaking
Magnificently through
And sometimes - comes
The storm of the century
We hunker down
Thinking that we are
Prepared or
Knowing that we are not
And wait, our fear sliding
Into numbness, numbness
Crushing into resignation,
Resignation dissolving
Into the certainty that
We will not survive!
And then. Gift. We do.


I give love
Held up by love
Learn and Grow
Music = satisfaction
Safe zone

dork fork

He called me dork
Not meaning cool

Like I would mean
No, his was hate talk

It made a fork with my truth
And so I walked away


I walk the beach
Something is dead
Half buried in the sand
Showing only its sand-swept head
And I wonder what it is
And should I feel something





                             asian girl



Food is Hard

Fast or famine,
And my relationship

With it
Is a touchstone touting
My State

Happy I thin down
Too excited by my joyful
Journey to remember to eat.

Depressed, I'm damaged
By Desire for food
And Weight weighs me down.

Monday, April 27, 2015

Caretake You

I want to look into your heart
To see your pain
To see what has wronged you
And do what I can to make you safe

I want to look into my heart
To see my pain
To see what has wronged me
And to do what I can to make me safe.

True at the same time is easy
Not true is something pretty fuckin' queasy
Can't stop loving, don't wanna
Can't fix shit, I am helpless.

Hurt Haiku

Hurt hurt hurt hurt hurt
Hurt hurt hurt hurt hurt hurt hurt
Hurt hurt hurt hurt hurt

Actions Louder Than Words

What are you doing? You pulse
Pulsar? Touch dream hard give
It to me I think that your life
Love is enough is enough
For a damn dream execution
Execution? Hardly such sentence
And you just drive pain
Pain Pain Pain Pain Pain
Into my fuckin' heart
Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you.
You fuckin' liar.
You know what? Just fuck yourself.
You said you love?
You don't show it.
Actions louder than words.
Actions louder than words.
Actions louder than words, baby.
Show me me don't tell me.

You and Abuse

My abusers taught me
That I was worth-less
My abusers taught me that I
Couldn't be worth less.
So you can imagine my
Lack of surprise
My lack of surprise
That you are ashamed for
People to know that I care for you.
I have expected it my entire life.

Ashamed of Me

It is so hard to love
When you say you love me
But you act ashamed.

Of me.

Don't tie my heart into bondage
To abuse. To abuse.
I deserve love from someone
Who doesn't find
My love shameful.
Who doesn't find
My love shameful.

Let me go.
Let me go.
Don't hang on to what you despise.
I deserve better than that.
I deserve better than that.

It is so hard to love
When you say you love me
But you act ashamed.

Tuesday, April 14, 2015

Let People In

I spent my whole life being unlovable
Trying to just get by with this crappy life
Resigned to loneliness – hiding brokenness
Ashamed ashamed ashamed ashamed

Now I am trying something scarily different
Maybe there are people who would love me
Maybe I just have to risk – to let people in
That is the scariest thing I've ever thought.

Monday, April 13, 2015

Poetry With Patrick

Writing poetry
With other people
Is both better and harder
Than my solitary practice

Better because love
Of poetry and folk
Delight in bringing them together
The worse — wait for the end

Some want to leap into the void
Letting poetry leap to the page
Doing it in the company of others
Having companionable support

For others – more stressful
They wait to be sure that they
Understand the prompt
Fearful of doing it wrong

For me as leader
It is quite similar
To leading meditation
Guiding is not doing

Guiding is not doingl

I find it good to support
But I need more time to write!

Poetry With Patrick is an ad-hoc lunch-time group I am leading this April at the Saint Vincent de Paul Wellness Center. We meet Monday through Friday and quite exceptional things are accomplished. The participants fall into three groupsFirst, clients, poor, some homeless, some of us mentally ill or with substance abuse issues. Second, there are volunteers from 18 to 80 motivated to help. Finally there is staff. Good comes from them writing poetry together.

Probably Wrong

It is possible –
Probably certain
That I am wrong
About many things
That I'm sure that I know


Sorrow pours over like ink
Like a gel covering and sealing
And I struggle struggle to take it in –
Transform it to joy and send it back out

Tonglen is a Tibetan Buddhist practice of breathing in suffering and discourse from the world, transforming it to settled peace to breathe back out, a gift to the world. I like it.

Saturday, April 11, 2015

Broken Heart

I watch her try
It hurts so much
He's just not into her
And she's giving herself
Away on a fruitless quest
Not my place to tell her

If only he would understand
He's not into her
We can still make it work
He thinks she's controlling
How can I change so he'll like me
She's always angry
He said that's what he wanted
And wants to change me
Why won't he understand?
She doesn't like me as I am.
It will work if he'll just try

I don't see
How I ever thought
I was into her

What does he want?
How can I please him?
We can make it work.

Dedicated to Allyson because it is her birthday. I have been putting off writing this particular poem but I promised drinking and poetry writing in honor of her day.

Sunday, April 5, 2015

Who Is She?

He, the center of the group
Thinks himself fraud
Tap dancing to cover it up.
And she?
She was visible as a reflection
Or as mother
Or? I don't know.
Frankly, it is hard to see her.

East to see him,
Caring parent but
Clearly not that practical.

Who is She?
She holds it together.
Flashes of brilliance.
Clearly extraordinary
In their family man is the man.
Man! Is! The! Man.
Boy child celebrated
Girl child starving to be seen
Girl child starving to be seen.
(Trying to keep her under control
Is not the same as seeing her.)
That is a sad thing
She's so smart
Which? Both.
They are so broken.
Women matter too.

Saturday, April 4, 2015

She Said

She said I had a fuckable spirit.
My spirit squeed (squee'd?) and grinned
And danced! Danced! Danced!
Ooh la la!

Friday, April 3, 2015

You Gotta Know

You gotta know my brain ain't like yours
Mental illness ain't like you have a bad day
I hear a crack like the snap of a belt
And I have visions, images, re-plays,
Of beat beat beat tiny boy trying
To be good don't complain don't cry
Don't put back the hands
Cooperate while He
Beat on bare bottom with a leather belt
Crack Crack Crack
And I believe
I am nothing but shit.

That ain't for just a moment, minute, hour, day
That's days. Days of pain I can barely endure
Pain where I feel better if I take a blade and
Cut My Flesh
Cut. Cut. Cut.

Flashbacks need lots of good days
Lots of good days to ease up.
I never know that I won't kill myself
I never know that I won't kill myself
I just endure for now
Just endure for now
Practice my coping skills

Some say PTSD rewires brains
That I need to learn to cope
Because I won't get better
There's a cheerful thought.
I hope they are wrong
Isn't decades of this shit
Enough punishment
For someone else's anger?

Thursday, April 2, 2015


Cute fuzzy gerbil
Only wants the food I give
Really not my friend


Snooty Siamese
Disdaining all of the world
That's why I love her

Dancing Dog

There's a happy dog
He dances and leaps for joy
My saddened heart lifts

Wednesday, March 25, 2015

Mentally Ill

I like to say I am mentally ill
It's a package. Nice and clean.
Nicer than saying being beaten
As a tiny toddler boy taught me
Such HATRED for myself
Such powerful HATRED for myself
Hatred hatred hatred
That half a century later
I am still driven by it.
I still feel the burn of the belt.
Beaten beaten beaten
I still feel it realer than you
It is realer than you
You are nothing to my hate
Of me.
So I like to say I am mentally ill
It is nicer than what is real
What is real
What is real
I don't know
Mentally ill.

Paint Herself

Her quick skill
She marked two sides of the board
String aligned
Chalk on the string
Line across.
Move the string
Chalk again
Hold it tight
Another line
Precision married to art
Did she paint the blackboard
Paint herself?
Paint herself?

Can't Fix It

I see women attach themselves
To creepster crawly abusers
To predatory predators
Please baby, can I talk on the phone
To deal with medical issues?
For my child?
Please Baby?

Life in desperate poverty
Is that hard
Abused by one not many
Abused by one not many
My fucking God.
My heart is ripping apart

Can't fix it.
I can't fix it.
I CAN'T fix it.
Help. Help. Help.
Magic 3s
Fix it

Saturday, March 7, 2015

Wait In Vain

Inhabiting our depths
Isn't transformation
We exist — eternal
Our job to swim in our sea

If you are waiting for transformation
You wait in vain
To heal wait no more
Your ills are not of the eternal soul

Discover yourself —
Be — without judging
Enlightenment is acceptance
Not cure

Tuesday, March 3, 2015

No Connection

Oh. I see you. You form relationships.
You are married. You have a boyfriend.
A couple! Together. Choosing another.
Oh how I wish I could find that!

I understand that you can do it
But I don't at all understand how.
Broken folk like me did not bind
Did not bind to a mom or a dad.

We do not know how to bind.
We do not know how to be friend.
We do not know how to be love.
We do not know how we do not know how.

I want folk. I want to love folk.
I want to be connected to anyone.
I want to be connected to anyone.
I want to be connected to anyone.

But I don't know how.

Friday, February 27, 2015


To be frozen in busy inactivity
Frenetic quivering icicles
Not quite blocking the view of
What we  can  not  do (but should)
Is horrible.

The ice keeps crazing cracking
Trying to release us to our tasks
And frantically we patch the cracks
We pour a little water - freeze! freeze!
And try to keep our gaze averted
From What We Are Not Doing.

Monday, February 23, 2015


Being mentally ill
Has down sides
I don't deny it
I am the first to say so

But unexpectedly
I have found community
People mentally ill
Like I am.

I have found people everywhere
That were invisible to me before
My life-long crazy mind
Got so bad I couldn't hide it.

They are all around and happy
To greet, to help, to see, to see me.
It is an invisible community
With entrance only by mental illness.

Dedicated to Lindsey

Saturday, February 21, 2015

Face of Fear

I try to face my fears
Especially new ones
With the idea that
Putting that face to them,
Turning them toward me,
Lets me (hopefully)
Keep them smaller.

They grow
And overwhelm
And crush

I am crushed.

Today the cable
Under California Street
Waiting to tug
Cable cars up the hill
And for a minute
I wasn't sure
If I could cross the street

It was so visceral.
It crawwwwlled
Under my skin.
My heart panicked
My unshed tears ached
The back of my eyes

But unwilling to give
In to another fear
Unwilling to give it
Space in my life,
When the light said walk
I walked

Pounding heart
Barely able to breathe
Through that cable of fear
Imprisoning my chest


Slightly smiling

I walked.

Halfway across
The heavy iron cover
Vibrated and growled
Through the soul of my foot.

For a moment
It was a real possibility
That I would freeze
That I would retreat.

But I barely paused

Soldiering on

Being brave

Next time
I just happen to know
The cable car turns in the next block.
At Van Ness I can cross sans cable
And from there I can't see the fear's face.


I see famous people
And they are just like
Non-famous folk I know

What does it mean?
Why are they famous?
It seems an accident.

Don't Open

People want me to learn to take risk
To open my heart
To let people in.

OK. I tried it.
I breached my walls
I let someone in
I have kind of a friend
And you know what?
I am overwhelmed.

Loneliness suddenly
Towers over me
A galaxy dwarfing

I want my walls back.
It is too much.

Tuesday, February 17, 2015

Cutting Kindness

You probably don't understand
Since I have no friggin clue
How I can take a blade
To my arm
Cut cut
Cut cut cut
And smile with relief
As my own beautiful blood
Runs down my arm
And sigh my ease and peace
And tell myself softly thank you.
I am trusting you
With my dark and terrible secret
Not in the hope of any redemption
Nor in the hope of your understanding
But just to let you know
That we are out here.
I am not alone.

Tuesday, February 10, 2015


Oh my sweet love
You are out there somewhere
And we may meet or we may not
But I will wait for you

You love and you care
And you think and you laugh
And you tend the plants
And you tend the lives

And you will make me laugh
And I will make you laugh
And we will read each other poems
That we wrote or we loved

And when times turn grim
And when grief strikes
And illness, and death
And we have little to give

We will give the little
And it will be more
And we will love through anger
And smile through fights

And grow. And grow.
And be. And be more.
And make something
Something more in the world

Oh my sweet love
You are out there somewhere
And we may meet or we may not
But I will wait for you.

Sunday, February 1, 2015

How Dare He

I am having trouble speaking
Filled with such fury.
How dare he.
How. Dare. He.

Doesn't he know what he's done?

The gift of a chance of relationship
The gift of someone caring
The thing we all are looking for
And when it gets hard he throws it away
Like nothing
Like the garbage

And she's left in confusion
With her heart ripped jagged
Still trying to explain his heart
Thinking that if he just knew
It would work.

The Gift

The gift of your trust
Opening to me your pain
Brings me to stillness

Friday, January 30, 2015


They walked quickly
I smiled to see them
Holding hands I thought
It seemed
So Romantic
But then i saw their faces

Each of them had that look
You know
When someone is stiff
Because they don't want
Their hand held?
Each of them angry
Around the eyes.
Each of them with that same
Slight. Cringe. Away.

As we passed i saw
Minimal touching
Stiff index fingers entwined
I wrote their stories for blocks.

Manic Shyness

She was amazed to find
Herself so over the top

Everyone responding she thought
To her energy, to her mania

Maybe this is what it's like
To be charismatic

Then someone asked,
Are you OK? You seem so quiet.

Sunday, January 25, 2015


I am losing myself
Bit by bit piece by piece
Forgetting the day
Forgetting the month
Forgetting the year

Forgetting the whats.
I remember that I knew
But it is gone.

Then the hows.
My brain knew how to think
Hard things. Complicated things.
It knew how to learn new hard things.
Now? All gone.

Now are going the thats
I am startled to read things
I wrote. I knew things that
Now I can't remember I knew.
In spite of the evidence.
I can't recover how to know that.

The other day someone scared me.
In a quarter block I forgot.
I spent days triggered in PTSD
and didn't know why.
I didn't remember that
It happened.
Then days later I did.
How did I forget that?

I am trickling away.
I am trickling away.

Thursday, January 15, 2015

The Leaving of the Dark

The winter solstice
They call it the coming of the light
They call it the coming of the light
It is not the coming of the light.

That's not the truth.
It is still the the time of the dark.
It is the time of the dark.
It is the time of the dark.

The dark is not done.
It is not gone.
There is still more dark than light
There is much more dark than light.

If you want to speak of the coming
If you want to speak of the light
Wait for the equinox.

Then, with the Spring comes the light.
It is the day of the balance.
It is a day of balance.
The next day there is more light than dark.

Now we still have the dark
We still have its gentle peace
We still have its somber quiet
It is my time
Do not hurry it away.
I am of the dark.

Tuesday, January 13, 2015


Are we assembled?
Each of us here,
Each of us with all our parts
Each of us coming together
Whether ready or not
Each of us becoming
Though searching,
Thinking, wait,
I need.
My parts!
Each of us perfect
Each of us here
Each of us with all our parts
Coming together
Each with the Other
In Holy Assembly.