The rocks on the bluff were waiting
The tide rushed in and out
The gulls knew their poetess was coming
They got treats and fish, leaving me be
A neighbor said Come join us
Get a manicure and chat
She left the beach
Never do coffee
Never do manicures
You will never know how great being a loner is
Term in Yiddish is Yenta
Not me or my style

half way to paradise
half way to hell

a right turn here
a left turn there

love is radical
a choice made.

This is the ripple effect of your actions                                                  after  putting on a show like a circus attraction                                                       ­                                      starting  with in- fighting that scorches then burns                                                            ­                                                making sure we all get  to take a turn                                                             ­  under the guise of lessons we need to learn                                                    then  expecting forgiveness that isn't earned                                              Acting  like  you  have all the information                                                      to  judge and steer all the conversations                                                 So  sure your manipulation isn't seen                                                             ­  making sure your hands stay clean                                                            ­ Starting  gossip  ,spreading false rumors                                                              you  are just like every other abuser                                                           ­    It  took me a while, but I can see                                                              ­ you  are living in a ****** up reality                                                When  you die alone ,and you will be                                                               ­              exactly where you deserve to be

Lawrence Hall
[email protected]
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                             This is my Stacking Swivel


                  We were speaking of historic stacking swivels,
                  and Shelley thought there might be poem in it


This is my stacking swivel. There are many like it
But this one is mine; that recruit training moment
When I was issued my G.I. stacking swivel
I felt like Sergeant Rock, over the top

My stacking swivel makes me feel like a man
This American stacking swivel of instant death
A chilled-steel weapon of liberating power
Striking fear into the enemies of freedom

Look upon my stacking swivel, ye mighty!
And despair!

Have you ever seen a person drown?



You fight, muscles straining as you reach--flailing helplessly toward what you need most. You can't stand it anymore as your body screams for oxygen. You gasp-- hoping, praying this is a dream, but a searing burn rushes down your throat and through your lungs as water floods in. It shouldn't be there, you know it-- every cell screams but it's too late, the water is inside and keeps flooding in. You reach for the light one last time, it filtering and bending into bright rays around your fingers. Your vision grows dull, your muscles no longer respond to what your brain is telling them to do. The light growing dimmer and dimmer as the last bubbles float to the surface. One last ray of gold slips through your fingers... Then nothing...



It's to be expected for any animal to struggle as much as possible while drowning in the water. Some will put others of their kind underneath them, just for precious moments of rest and survival.
So what do you do when you find a person overboard, drowning in the sea of black?
Naturally, I throw the life preserver in hopes that they will grab onto it and I can save them.

Remember what I said when some creatures will force their own kin under in order to live?
Well, what do you do with a creature like that?
Eventually, it's you or them. At this point, it's natural to choose you!

You like me
and I like you.
So there’s just one thing
to do–
or two,
or three.
It’s true we’re probably not compatible
as you’re not so much the intellectual
but the main point is that
we’re both heterosexual.
So come on over, I like the way you talk.
You like the way I jiggle.
I like the pic you sent me of your….
Make it sooner,
I don’t have much time.
And I know that you’ll never be mine.
But thinking of you makes me quiver.
I only hope I’m not promising more
than I can deliver.

When the dark spell was broken I began my journey;
I walked to the top of the hill.
I sang a song, along with the spotted towhee.
I saw the world below me and I strengthened my will.

I built my house in the shelter of the deep green valley,
with brick and stone, and a deep blue pool.
Under the stately pine and the swaying palm tree--
I swore to follow no man’s, but my own one rule.

A butterfly flew into my house one morn
and came to rest on my sleeping lips.
Then flew away–you know they don’t live long--
I dreamed a dream of an eternal kiss.

I awoke to find that my guardian angel
was sitting by my bed, singing his song.
“Don’t worry” he said, “I will never leave you.”
“I believe you.” I smiled. But we could both be wrong.