non-attachment: a poem


Like the perfect slouchy sweater
shoulder seams landing
somewhere on the upper arm

enough material to
flow to

a  little extra
enough for your love to gather
in his hands
and use to pull you near

fitted enough to show
the curve of
the shoulder
the bumps of
the bosom

a little extra
but not enough to tangle in
not so much plenty
as to become constrictive


Like an expert rider
holds the reins

a gentle tug
a slow leading motion
right or left

a quick drawing back
a loosening switch

total wisdom in the communication
of horse and man
leather and the subtleties
of the wrist



sink your hooks in
puncture the thing
you loved most

holding fast
makes shaking arms
gripped fingers unfurl
the will of the body wins


stoic, grey mind
all neutral
no vividness, no color, no pulse

a false notion
that no hurt can get in
when numbness is itself
deep pain


full of love
and letting go
space to breathe
and a tight squeeze
upon reuniting

trust in the unseen

felt emotions
knowing the whole landscape
to the fence line

then held tenderly
as you hold the hand of a child
growing independent


learned best through the
poetry of daily life
Can you let yourself be cradled
by your own


The Sea and the Captain. A poem.

She kept her wits about her, stood firm on her feet and let love surround her like the salt water winds coming off the sea
tousling her hair, billowing her clothes, even making her rock on her heels with their strongest gusts

but never sweeping her away

The salt water winds which change with the tides are directed by the invisible hand of Mother moon
Mother moon who shines her light for Us to show us the way
slowly extinguishes her light
so that we also know darkness and the beauty of a velvet black sky full of stars—winking.

Salt water winds coming off the sea; Yet I am The Sea and you are the Great Captain of a ship
And this is an even greater story than Ahab and his white whale.
With all the drama of the ocean—teeming with life
her storms
Deep Blue
tides and currents
And your skill with the masts and sails, reading the tides and gleaning information from the sky

We transcend the story line of Conqueror and Conquered where Greatness, in the end, is had by only one.
Where ego makes it impossible for each to see beyond their Object, consumed by it to the point of losing sight of self.

You, my captain, love and respect the sea.
On calm waters a pleasant smile emerges from the scruff of your beard as you enjoy the way she
buoys you
cradles you
rocks you
until you meet her calm.

When the water gets choppy and the winds hit the sails, reverberating like the strike of a snare drum, you find your footing on the spray soaked deck
and set to work from a new place of calm
mustering your power and wisdom
using what you know about Her,
not to placate her— you can’t— but to allow her to thrash
to be with It
one part
of all of Her

It does not diminish you; You emerge stronger, more resilient and full of admiration of her power.

And I, the sea, look smilingly upon you, the ship intact, you are whole, now resting on the bow of the boat with pink cheeks from pulsing blood and moving muscles.
Signs of strength.
Strong enough to be with me in the torrent
and vulnerable enough to enjoy the rocking calm when it comes again and makes you tender with slack muscles and deep breath from lungs expanded from the exertion.

Make. A poem.

Channel your longings into letters

Lick stamps from a smiling mouth

Let your fingers dance leaving beautiful prose in their wake

Use the bursting energy of new love to propel poetry

create in a frenzy
in a vacuum
edit later
edit never

bless the work that is born whole and quickly

sigh,           pleased

share your art

declare your love to him
to her
to mom

tell them without words

use pie made with summer berries

drink tea and watch meteor showers

imagine outrageous cuddle puddles
feel the way it feels to almost feel touch
from far away