Best Boxed In(A) Poems

Hourglass

Sand falls
Through the glass
Love falls
Within the past
Memories dance
They never last
Head in my hands
As I stare overhead
At the hourglass


Falling Down Stairs

Stairs broken
Wheels unspoken
I fell
Grasping for air
Are...

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where crystals gleam 
i want to lie

where the scented lily opens
reveals its stamen
tender as babies breath

as unavoidable as our sun's and moon's provocative union 
as...

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How populated this lonely world often feels
with so much warm flesh living cold and stony.
Some days, we ache for someone to hold us,
smile into our...

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NISkmC_4bNQ

We are graced with a gift and it is to be unwrapped, every morning 
as gentle as the peeling of the light when it falls...

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Universal elegy grieves and yet embraces shifts of paradigm
New beginnings consciousness initiates comprehends and thus proceeds from
Illusion’s delusion collusions misconceptions in the irritating
Vortex whirlpool immanent...

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 Take Out the Landry

Dirty laundry for years on the floor
finally the dirt is out the door
Quebec is cleaning house
separatists being laid to graves
like Napoleonic...

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Where was I 
when repo men invaded,
possessed,
boxed me up within his cool heart
fragrant in its distaste of warmer climates?
You know,
climates governed by love.
(Daydreaming of knights,...

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One lone rose tumbled from the basket,
the same as the others but set apart
All were beautiful. They congregated
in one basket, these Southern belles,
but she, with...

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Up high on our soul’s trapeze
we tire of the bar we hold
but we find it hard to release our known.
Eyeing the free bar full of...

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“Not many fake things are so nice for me, but I sure love an artificial tree.” quote by poem's author

We had to ditch last year...

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One Toy Soldier

Little toy soldiers are all put away
Training is over for this time of day.
Where do these little boys go now to play?
Away from...

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Welcome to my outhouse
My humble little abode
Just four walls with a couple of holes
That help with the ca-mode

Always something to read
Or a word search to...

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Do not call me
strong Black woman for
it is not a compliment
It is a title given to us
boxed inside expectations that
weigh us down
We are not superheroes
yet...

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Indigenous woman—rarely accompanied by their
white sisters—or their men enter 
through the side door
of St. Peter’s Church.

Here they are boxed in cool stucco,
and stained-glass. A flock...

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Boxed in prize-fighter
Spinning punches for a sold-out crowd
Tubes and tubes

Run chain for miles, rust spots baring
Stark, empty Jews
Playing corn in a field, as
Nazi golems keep...

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