Stupid fucking people everywhere
You see them out there
Small talking about the weather
They don’t know any better
Rattling on about the latest sale at Marshals
I hear a neighbor’s voice waft into my living room
Cloying and gossipy, “Oh, it’s allllways about HER,” she says so nasally I wonder if her nose is doing the speaking
I get the distinct feeling she’s talking about herself
Just doesn’t know it
I tried to get to my gmail today by pressing the “gm” buttons into my browser
Accidentally took me to female genital mutilation
I guess I pressed the “f”
Women in other places get their clitoris and labia scraped off
Their vaginas sown up
Sometimes without anesthesia
Usually before age 5
They see it as a rite of passage or a sign of purity and honor
I see it as men in fear trying to control women’s power
I see it as the symbol it is – women mutilating their femininity
How long do we suffer blindly?
How long do we fool ourselves to make the shit we eat taste more palatable?
So what kind of poem is this, you wonder?
Where is it going?
I don’t fucking know
People in Ukraine dying and bloodied by government for fighting for rights
In 2014
How are we still this barbaric?
There is too much pain in this world
Covered up shoddily by our daily purgings of false importance on Facebook
Or our video game playing addictions – 5 hours a day — or
Anything, really, to take us away from the horrific truth of what is actually going on
All the time
Because we feel helpless
So we hide
Until consciousness again finds us and we are thrust into action
Until we stop asking “how are you” and not giving a fuck about someone’s answer
Until we stop talking about the weather
And start discussing our souls

Wisdom Lives

In the distance

A warrior cries

A girl breathes out

A Sage has died

Something Deep’s been brought to life

Unconscious things direct the wise

‘Til Truth reveals Age-Old lies

The Wise then question their label of “wise”

The girl mourns and sighs,

How can I ever trust The Whys?

When their Answers are hidden in such plain sight

And wearing such a believable Disguise…


In the distance

A warrior cries

She hears the voice

She knows Inside

Something dead is now alive

A treasure Unearthed from a far-away place

A taste of dark, generational waste

That lived in her while Life she faced

Unknowing that this poisonous Slice

Wound up her soul like ivy vines

From her very First Cry

To her first breath in

Unintentional Parental Sin


In the distance

A warrior cries

The girl breathes out

A Sage has died

Something Deep’s been brought to life

The girl breathes in —

Alive again

A Sage reborn

Wisdom lives.




Oh! It strikes me silent.

No. I cannot speak.

Wonder – almost-violent.

Awe – an Awe-some thing.

Instills a kind of Lifted Pause:

I breathe but I am not breathing.

Defying Reason’s silly laws,

Leaving Logic seething.

And so I am like Alice

In this Wonder land –

Been drinking from the chalice

Held in Goddess hands.

And Oh! It strikes me silent.

And no, I cannot speak.

Awake, at last, from slumber

Gone – unconscious sleep.