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Metta
It was the day she cried for 24 hours - not straight but in short fits. Just like she had lived her life - in short fits of goodness and long hours of nothingness. But... More »
Metta
"St John of the Cross heard an Arab love poem Through the bars and began his poem" ~Robert Bly This is a wide ocean, we could swim for centuries and never find a shore but... More »
Metta
sometimes a number has a tale to tell sometimes two sometimes three sometimes it chases its own tail in circles like a hula hoop like Bernard on his first flight through the galaxy sometimes... More »
Metta
in union square Gandhi is stoned walks with a stick - half starved I am full and half drunk and wondering if we are cells in God's blood how do we move about without ever colliding... More »
Metta
"My soul turns into a tree, And an animal, and a cloud bank. Then changed and odd it comes home And asks me the questions. What should I reply?" ~Hermann Hesse She's been telling him... More »
Metta
It's been forty years of wondering. Why do chosen people wander? Why read five books each year and never make it to the land of milk and honey? It's been forty one years of wandering... More »
Metta
tonight the black letters of Torah against a blue black night but no white, no words beyond the words, no lover's whisper no empty space to lie down two times I... More »
Metta
It is the scent of my own neshamah: Thai tea, that one tree, the subtle smoke, your hair. It is the smell of my own perfection to be that draws me in and makes me weak. It is... More »
Metta
Oh, David, master of Malkhut, you dance, you teach me how to sing praise. You sit with me under a tree and speak fire. Oh, David, would you love me my bare breasts gleaming... More »
Metta
is that your eye, lord, that twinkles your lips that kiss your hand that moves over me like warm water you are the wine of my drunkeness you are his voice that dives deeply you... More »
poetry