Her head a raucous arcade

Thoughts pinball chaotically

Careen into past danger zones

Fall to pointless oblivioun

Roll fuitlessly

Flippers waving furiously

Through dead yet frantically buzzing

Doldrums of the present

Soar, lights flashing ecstatically

To hopeful future heights

Terrifying precipice

Rubbers thump relentlessly

Balls roll, ping-ping-ping

Temples pound thunderously


Volley into Reverie

Prone in the concrete courtyard

Focused on nature’s absorption

Each molecule of sunlight

Every breath of non-recirculated air

Intent, however ineffectively

On blocking out the incessant

Murmuring cadence of voices

Poking cattle-prods against her.

Her name, raised in summons

Emanates from row’s end

(Orange clad cheese-puffs half-baked)

Pierces efforts at peaceful reverie.

Request, from quarter least familiar

Lobbed nonchalantly

Masquerading normative

“Will you be my jail mom?”

Nonplussed, though now accustomed to

Smoke bombs, hand grenades & flying shrapnel

She fields the serve, volleys back

Ascertains duties, job description

Position defined vaguely,

Supplicant desirous of a listening ear

(Check, decades’ experience)

Response to mom appellation

(Check, second nature, near automatic)

Detecting no land mines, booby traps

Unceremoniously, she acquiesces

Muses, half-heartedly

When the Queen of Hearts

Will declare, imperiously

“Off with her head!”

Cutting Floor

Many months along on this journey

Track switched derailment

Bizarre interminable life detour

Her role remains elusive.

Selected scenes

Audaciously authored

She writes her own script

Declares herself Switzerland

(Impoverished, chocolate and Alps-free version)

Neutral on block wars

Alpha through Omega.

Other scenes, starring

Herself as stringed-puppet

Jerked, directionless

Paraded, manacled, upon spotlit stage

Defensless, awaiting

Hail of heckling

Hurled rotten tomatoes

Eyes clamped tightly

She clicks ruby-red slippers

Devasted, opens eyes

Joyous homecoming

Lies rejected on cutting room floor.


Gentleness of her soul


Ripe sweet peach

Battered on contact

With harsh environs

Rocky inhabitants

Continuous bump and crash

Sunny yellow-pinks and orange

Fade to dull mushy browning

She ponders the conundrum

How to remove the bruise

Threatening turn to rot

Blizzard Bounty

Wind-driven snow


Horizon, foothills

Surrounding world

Beyond near distant treeline.

Deciduous skeletons

Emaciated arms outstretched

Model freshly donned

Haute-couture snow-sleeves

Evergreens, short and squat

Droop, limbs down-weighted

Burdened with blizzard’s

Beautiful bounty.

Color Curtains

Daylight closes in concentric circles

Rainbow rings lowered horizonally

Rose salmon lies lightly on gold

Settles into warm-comfort glow

Gently cedes to lightest pale aqua

Hangs calm soothing band

Succumbs, gently pressed down

Under bluing violet surround

Topped off by navy


Filling sky’s vast dome