A Daughter's Lamentation

He sits by the phone,
wondering who might answer.
Drunk again, he weaves in and out of awareness -
commiserating with loneliness.

Carefully plotting to get a willful listener,
he cries into his glass of vodka,
practicing his sorrow to avoid
the familiar dial tone.

This morning he was a man of
brilliance and insight -
the smartest I have ever known

Yet by nightfall,
his slurred recitations
and redundant belligerance
has stripped him naked.

He remains a has been -
an old, tired, drunk,
who lost his soul
to a bottle of illusions.

TOOTHACHE

Mouth
suffer
constant pain
drilling like
a jack-hammer
into my brain
frustrated
hurt
SCREAM
chills
fever
corruption
from a simple
toothache
or is it in my head?
AHHHHHHHH

Floating in Stillness

I have been lingering
inside this space
of solitude -

a space
of hope
and insight;

wandering effortlessly
in and out

of time
and
reality.

I have found
a piece of
my lost soul;

grabbing it
as it fluttered
by.

I have roused
what I thought
was dormant
forever;

waking from
a disturbed
sleep.

I have
found
my
voice
and
have
shouted:

I
AM
ALIVE

Gustav

Pitter
patter
the rain
scatters,

erasing
whole
cities.

Gusts
of angry
dust,

sweep
memories
away.

Blood
of the
flood,

is carried
downstream,

as the women
pray
that their
children
will be saved

from nature's
angry wrath.