hope

someone will break your heart
someone will steal your smile
someone will come along
and make it all worth while

Who are not born strong

(For Joyce, inspired by Joyce)

O girl-child
I learn today that you are not born strong
Yes, woman-child
You are not born strong
And mother, crone,
Goddess
You are not born strong

It has always been said:
Girl, your body is frail
Woman, your heart is fragile
Crone, your flesh is feeble -
      Above all, womankind
      Your will is weak

I thought my heart was fragile -
Thought it breakable
Imagined it unmendable -
Therefore I guarded it with utmost vigilance
Protected myself most carefully:
I thought I could not withstand any blows
Because

Dear girl-child
You are not born strong
Yes, woman-child
You are not born strong

O womankind
I learn today that you are not born strong
No, goddesses
You are not born strong -

You grow strong:
Become stronger

Under the punishing burden of everyday life
Your shoulders strengthen
Under the backbreaking pressure of life’s every day
Your backbone straightens
Steels

And every day
You grow stronger still

You can only grow stronger

And despite it all
O girl-child
O woman-child
Who are not born strong
Mother, Crone,
Goddess
Who are not born strong:

Despite it all
O Womankind
You are so much stronger than you think you are -
Far more stronger than they think you are -
      I begin to believe
      I am so much stronger than I think I am

Who are not born strong
Grow strong

Become stronger

beggar

if you saw me sitting on the streets
scruffy, unkempt, and bare of feet,
i will not food nor drink nor money entreat:
please, just an idea, a word, for these blank sheets

untitled

dress
old thoughts
old truths
in pretty
new frocks

new cloths
new shoes
but old
old souls

why bother then?

changes never end

or so
they pretend

different paints
different taints
same old images

another phrase
ways different
same old imageries

yet
tries after
tries after
tries

why?

to win
a poetry
prize

Mid-Autumn

dis:ease

i have sustained a
small sprain on my
psyche
and i need
a splinter for my
soul

traveler

your love is the Welly of the trail
    of my memories
your beauty is the India of the flight
   of my imagination

you are the Shangri-la of the destination
   of my mind

beyond my reach

unattainable

I have to quit you

I have to quit you
I must leave you

for where once you’d fed me
now you feed
on me

how strange

that you should believe me
when i said i did not care
   for you
- false hurtful words -
but doubt me when i tell you
that i do

truly
i do

again

you
from whom i had walked away
neither the echo of your laughter
nor the shadow of your company
remains today

yet
without any thought i picked up
   something i know you love
as soon as i saw it
and i wanted to buy it
for you

because i can imagine
your exclamation of excitement
and your look of joyous surprise
if you were to receive it

but
then i think once and
   i think twice
i put it back down and
i walk away

again

run

running an empty mile within
 myself
i am not sure if i am running
 towards a dream i have yet to create
or whether i am running
 from a nightmare i have yet to dream
but i know i cannot stop
running

my feet of lead
in wingéd sandals
i am running
one mile empties into the next
 seamlessly
one step surges into the next
 endlessly
i am running
i am tired
i must not
stop

i am runningrunningrunning
running i must not
stop
i cannot

i might
run into you

you burn me

you burn me


Sappho
Trans. Anne Carson

with
      a simple word
      a single glance
you burn me
you brand me
you leave me
   cold

but first

you burn
   me