Tag Archive | poem

An offering

Persephone’s Choice

I chose the pomegranate
To escape one hell for another
Such is my lot

Cursed by the Fates
Under Demeter controlled
He offered me freedom
At terrible cost
A share of the kingdom
The dead down below
Escaping Demeter
And her pretty cages
For the land of my choice


poem: Living with The Raven.

content note: Suicide. 

Living with The Raven*

I’ve got a note in my head
allocating possessions
attempting to explain

An apology of sorts
for my failings
and lack of strength

It changes from time to time
but it’s always been
as long as I remember

I live with this note
a reminder
of my way out

No one has ever seen it
and if they do they will cry
but I will weep no more.


*reference to Edgar Allen Poe

Wrote this a while back, decided I’d share.

Ode to Long Days

To long days ahead
Ode to Joy on my mind
First song I played
Back in those long haired guitar days

Rush, Rush around
Sell those things holding me down
See the pshrink
And the bureaucracy awaits.

Then to L.A.
Meeting her friends
Unfamiliar places and people
I’ll still push through

Not long now
One year in time
The peace built by estrogen
Disrupted by oppression
And what happened back when

Ode to the before times
My guitar sings no more
Now my eyes weep instead
There are long days ahead.

His message

tw: abuse


He sent me a message
My abuser, that is
He wrote me a missive
With no acknowledgement of how we ended
Of how I feared for my life
As he threatened to bash me with that long metal pole.

He wrote me a question
Not the one I would answer
About what went wrong
And the hurts that were caused

He asked me a question
Seeking reentry
To something denied him
This life and mind now out of his grasp

Yet still I miss him
And desire to answer
Giving vivid descriptions
Of my life and my loves

A part of me hates him
Wants to tell him he hurt me
And to leave me alone

I write him no answers
Allowing no access
To my heart and my mind

He wrote me a letter

And I cried while she held me.

And yet.

Tw: abuse, self-harm, suicide

Sometimes I want to hurt myself

Just to feel anything

Sometimes I want to hurt myself

To externalize the pain


I know the difference between teasing and mocking

Who drew this target on me anyway?

Was it my mom terrorizing me?

Was it the Church teaching me I was worthless?

Was it my entire school’s ostracism?

It wasn’t my first friend, who choked me.

It wasn’t the other who threatened me.

They came later, with a target already drawn.


Sometimes I want to kill myself.

I wonder how I haven’t done it yet.

My entire life I’ve been mocked.

Friends, coworkers, those in power above.

Sometimes I want to die

Self hatred never knocks

And then I remember the few

Who’ve held my tenderness

Who’ve been worthy of my trust

And I cry

So few have

College Party

Another crowded room
I don’t fit in
Twenty year olds
Drinking, Dancing
Someone else’s Paradise
Not my scene

Where is my quiet room
My books and tea
Intimate talks
Quiet friendships

Not here, with music cranked
Not here, with unfamiliar bodies
Not here, I don’t fit

I never did

Conservatory of Flowers

Sitting in the conservatory of flowers
Smelling the wild things grow
Mist is moistly dripping
While outside the wind did blow

Sitting amongst the flowers
While my lover learns to play
Rain continues falling
And here is where I’ll stay

Soon she will rejoin me
Under the roof of glass
And I am gladly waiting
As pleasant time does pass