where to find my Poetry
From the Dictionary of Nonexistent Words, a SamplerLisa Bergin wrote:
this poem reminded me of Ursula K. Le Guin's introduction to The Left Hand of Darkness... What you have done here: to tell the truth by telling it even without words we need to tell it. So lovely. Thank you.
Saint of the Gracious Smile, your lips are cruel
You wear your smile like a veil.
A shroud of modesty and grace is still a shroud.
Cloth can fray and rip
and stain just as easily.
O Saint of the Gracious, you would have us turn the other cheek,
you who have grace in perpetuity.
I do not know which of mine is the other cheek—
the one bruised and bloodied by ignorant hands
or the one bruised and bloodied by familiar hands,
though these are often the same cheek,
the same hand.
Won first place in the Baltimore Science Fiction Society's 2011 annual poetry contest.
These are not my bones.
They thrum upon muscle and sinew—
the refrain of death and rebirth
to the tune of growth and pain
There is time in these bones,
they remember when I was not yet