Monday, November 22, 2004


is an endlessly changing target;

the scent of bayberry during the holidays;

the child who calls you father;

and Home,
the refuge where life & peace & love might flourish.

Tuesday, November 16, 2004

Pain in the neck, resolved?

If you read any of my headache poems, you'll know I suffer from chronic headache and migraine. A neurologist suggests occipital neuralgia, which in restrospect is pretty much what I described in "its all in my head," as the source of chronic pain. Its something that might not turn up in your average search for headache pain, and something your regular doctor might not even suggest.

If "its all in my head" describes you, check out the following:

Sunday, November 14, 2004

November along the Saranac

The Saranac River:
running water deepest blue sparkling like crystal in the winter sun,
carving lazy curves along icebound shores of evergreen
and dark grey trees bare silhouettes against sapphire skies,
wending its frozen way toward Lake Champlain.

Thursday, November 11, 2004

It's all in my head

Pain, like a rigid, unseen hand
jabbed along my spine and
up under the base of my skull.

Pain, like a thumb pressed deep
into the soft tissue on the side of my neck
as if to interrupt the flow of blood.

Pain, like a ribbon stretched
from the base of my skull to my eye socket
and slowly dragged towards my ear.

Pain, untouched by meds
that leave me sleepless at night
in defiance of the warning labels on the bottles.

But, the good news, so I am told,
is that there is no reason for my pain
and that it is all inside my head.

Wednesday, November 10, 2004


Pale blue veins
on alabaster flesh
soft warm bosom
comforting breast

Tuesday, November 09, 2004

we are what we are • 11/6/04

we are
what we are
what we make of ourselves
what others allow us to be
what we allow ourselves to be
do not be confined
by who you think you are
who you were
or who others make you out to be
allow yourself to be amazed
by how others see you
how you are many things
and how you are one with everything.
There are no good byes
that last forever.


I know there is beauty out there
but I have given up hope.
And if there's a savior out there
it looks like a short piece of rope.

Clouded by pain
nothing to blame
fills me with shame
forgive me - and forget my name.