My head is a car wreck.


My head is a car wreck

all sharp edges painful brightness

razor blades screeching wheels

rusted edges steel on steel

chaos blood pain terror

thought-snippets nattering and chattering

scraping and scratching

trying to get out

tight jaw gray pallor heart in throat

out of body floating am I dead will I die?

was I ever alive?

brain flashing danger signs

knotted intestines

startle tremble shake and quake

suspicious paranoid hypervigilant

Take me to the junkyard I can’t be fixed

Go away go away go away go away no wait don’t go hold my hand

help me help me

help me God help me someone anyone

Save me wake me up get me outta here

wrap me up in peaceful dreams

when I finish out this nightmare


The gift.

Credit: unknown artist.

You received a gift of canvas and paint
a masterpiece yet to be created
a promise for the future
that might reflect on you well

But, no:
You used the canvas for target practice
You marred its pristine surface with hideous holes and ghastly rents
like a spoiled child who didn’t get the gift they wanted
destroying the one they did

and the paints, dried in their tubes made useless
laid to waste in a dark corner
kicked away and forgotten

You told sad tales about your blamelessness
You scoffed at the cheapness of quality
Useless to you, fit only for the trash
You hated the way that ugly thing sat in its lonely corner
mirroring back your own ugliness
and mocking you with obscenities
that you wrote on it with your own feces
A gift turned curse
but it never had to be that way

You concocted lies that even you believed
to make yourself feel better
and never be held accountable

But what you don’t know
is that you sabotaged yourself;
with every act of destruction
you destroy yourself.



Tissue paper origami wings
pressed down flat on the table
now unrecognizable sharp edges that cut and slice
No longer beautiful
no longer delicate
a paper thing bound for the trash
made ugly by the rage of its creator
because it didn’t come out perfect
It insulted her pride
and filled her with shame

You came along and saw beauty there
in its flattened ruins
I see you holding it gently in your hands
I see the sadness in your eyes
at what this once was and could have been

Your clumsy but tender fingers prodding its innards
working to bring it back to beauty
Wrinkles are its scars
You are so careful not to tear the aging paper
as you work the jumbled angles back to life

It will never be perfect
even so much as the day it was made
but its unfolding is a testament to your compassion
made beautiful by those who see its value
and breathe life into it
and save it from incineration.

Alone on the 4th…


…just sitting on my darkened bug infested porch with citronella candles like tiny bonfires illuminating the painted mint green table with burnished gold


…I eat my buttercrunch ice cream from a chipped ceramic bowl and listen to distant fireworks
I remind myself that tomorrow the grass needs a mow…


…I watch as fireflies twinkle like Christmas lights
and mosquitoes intent on their suicide missions crash into the sulfurous flames
and sizzle like dying fireworks.



skin brown like pages from antique books
tough but easily torn
falls away with papery fanfare
revealing translucent white beneath
a giant’s pearl that brings tears and blood
as the knife plunges deep in its tissue
layer upon layer is peeled away
until all that remains is a tiny nub of palest green
an embryo left to die outside
its nourishing toxic sphere. 

Danger ahead.

Gate of Nothingness by Pyrogas Sipo

The void beckons gently, quietly seduces
Mysterious and alien, glittering with the promise of answers.
I cannot resist and so against my better judgment I am pulled inside
I can’t fight its pull
and I don’t really want to

Broken shards of glass and mirrors jut from black depths
slicing my skin and stabbing deep into tender parts but still I keep moving
From back there the broken glass looked like glitter

From where did this void come? Who made it? Who put it here?
I go deeper inside to find the answers
but all I can find are more questions
I am confused and disoriented
Disappointment makes my sore feet drag in hopelessness
For I already know the source is unknowable
And yet I see something reflected there in the jagged glass

From whence does my vision come
when there is no source of light
I might be in a different universe.
I’m afraid
I want to flee

I try to twist around and fight the pull but still can only move forward
deeper into the nothingness.
I have become somebody’s puppet but who is pulling the strings?

The pull of the void transcends gravity and logic
Its physics are alien and make no sense to my earthbound brain

My mind begins to shatter like the glass
A billion broken mirrors blind me with their brilliance
even as the blood from my feet drenches the ground beneath me
I touch my bloody fingers to my lips and can taste its acridness.

A roaring, ill wind surges from far ahead
Somewhere a heavy door slams shut and I hear the click of its lock
From above me I hear a faint cry: “Leave now!”
This is my stopping place.

The wind curls around me
swoops me up and carries me on its crest back to where I began
It sets me down on hissing summer grass
My eyes adjust to an overcast sky the color of dirty sheets

There’s my world with its clouds and moon and stars and trees and houses
My world with all its ugliness and suffering and lies and broken dreams
mixed with truth and joy and beauty
Everything’s the same as it was
But it’s not the same
for within the void I found lost and broken parts of me
reflected in jagged shards of glass painted with my blood.

Today I cried.


[My lame attempt at freeverse poetry, for whatever it’s worth.]

Softer, more buoyant than ocean water
Welcome as a warm spell in January
and sudden as a summer squall
hot floods of tears from some unknown cistern rise up and
caress my face like
the loving touch of the mother I longed for and never had and
my fears and doubts fade and dissolve

Relaxing, not scared and
Melting into this dark warm and unfamiliar place
I sleep but never forget.

Ascending to the surface through an ocean of dissolving dreams
I cry out to the stars: Where are you? Who are you? How did you know?
I wait and wait and wait and I
hear nothing but the endless silence of the stars and
the crashing of the waves on the faraway shore and
the beating of my heart and

I wait


Then the answer comes: I’ve always been here.
Look inside and then look up.
Loving arms reach down and lift me up and
hold me like my mother should have and then I hear these words:

“You have passed this test.
Now, armed with the twin swords of truth and light
the dangers you faced can no longer harm you.
You are strong, you are safe and
God anoints you
with every tear that falls.”