My poem haiti-the forgotten dying land now featured on edge of humanity

scant trees hold precious life in soildownpours run without mercyflushing minerals into low landscharcoal created from the sparse bushtiny fingers burn on hot boiling potof small green leaves collectedoverfished waters leave nets lying emptysilent goat bones weave like shadowsstomachs ache like a black tooth decaying blank stares of a slave child with a swollen bellychained […]

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Bowl of Sorrow

my eyes swollen, arousing now, the floor vanisheshobby horse clings to a ceiling that does not existfragments of skin reek of fear, never ceasingmy heart is pounding, breathless for airbecoming that boney, big-eared childyou are no longer kind to mepretending not to seefor I am cagednot free

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Abused child

do not presume to know memy face a frowning mooncrevices of sadness besmeara hoary soul who wonders here wounds scab, heal and gazeas an eyeless void, she paintsno peak can lug the weightof a child begotten such a fate

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Life and Death

weeping crowmoon hangs lowwords slash in single fileblood plunges on Italian tilean infant takes four steps to momdad is raking leaves on browning lawnred-headed nurse prays for the dead this dawn   I am dedicating this poem to nurses, doctors, and anyone working in any capacity within the healthcare industry. A special thanks to our […]

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compulsive

counting, countingdoing daily safety checksexhaustion visiting eyes of seven God ignoring pleas to go to heaven tiptoeing, tiptoeingever aware of sleeping beastglass floors cracking under toeswhile nervous fingers are picking nose

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Without An Anchor At Sea

tethered to you, my darling, like a fragile marionettesilk strings made from worms gathering their blue emotionslonging for an overdue petrichor, I yearn for a divine cloud burstmy anchor, yet your strength vacillates floating, sending me out to seastill, after all these years, you do not identify with my mournful delicate marrowjoyful, gardenia scented summer […]

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My Gladiator

This piece is dedicated to and inspired by the fragrance writer, the poet who can find any scent you or your beloved enjoys.   In the days of the Roman Gladiators, their natural scents were collected and sold as expensive perfume for rich patrons.    in her white stola, she hummed by the lone gladiator gate,sixty […]

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