Sunday, April 16, 2017

Baba Yaga

You can hide behind another, like a bairn behind its mother's
skirts, but you're still scared of me. And you should be
for I've shed my earthly status for the realm of fantasy.

In the funhouse mirror of your eyes, I'm difficult to read,
as deformed as Baba Yaga sharpening her teeth. But the
bony one is hard to kill, I won't die easily. Not because

I'm supernatural or impervious to your swing. It's
simply hard to win a fight against your own psychology
(and it began long, long before I was ever on the scene).

Tuesday, February 21, 2017

You were beautiful unmasked.

Naked to the bone, the burdens of your sisters
gone. The strapping youth, a hero sojourner, fighting battles
(but mostly monsters in the closet) = (Father).

If I could but strip away the husk and free the golden seed
of pestilence, of fear. But I can't. Unadorned, you were
my Adonis. Costumed, just an ugly child of his.

Monday, January 30, 2017

In a few days, my understanding no more enriched than now, I place myself in the center of a green crater off the Maui coast.

Sunday, January 29, 2017

one, two

it's ok, really
no judgment
just numbers
like 4 follows 3

you're simply not 
strong enough yet
in yourself,
not for me.