I am of —

I am of —

A parent trapeze – a man and a woman – that tried to make a perfect world from imperfect outcomes – a paradox of wits

I am of —

A name – regal power of womanhood – formed from ancient spirits – inherited force and determination – with bow and arrow, a quiver and knife – Artemis searching fields and forests for an entourage

I am of —

Skin and bones – accepting and rejecting – always learning – striving to live with humility in contrast to selfishness needing to be understood

I am of —

Conscious thought – ideas engaged in nurturing brainpower – images and words creating silent narratives – sputtering synapses – memories caught in déjà vu like moments

I am of —

The human condition – OZ –witches and prophecy – wisdom trees – giving wells – deep riches difficult to hold steady – arrogance that seeks recognition but never prosperity

I am of —

An earth absorbed by commerce and speculation – seeing auras of hope that are often blinded by the deep intentions of others to do harm

I am of —

This city home – with family and friends – art and theater – one step – two step – dancing along cement paths – floating islands – screaming silences looking for shade from harsh environs – eavesdropping on conversations

I am of —

Plays and poems – representation of half true stories – spinning narratives – or messaging call to actions – like taromancy signaling a journey in one’s divinity of choices –

I am of —

A workplace – filling pockets with change – giving purpose to sacrificed time – to do more with less – discovering a wavering hope – measured by successes – giving reason to move forward – financing security so the landlord doesn’t foreclose the door

I am of –

My age – withering in an older something – skins shedding – changing colors while a heart beats for truth – legacy – a lasting portrait in dharma – to celebrate the passing.

I am me.

Night Becomes Mourning…an excerpt

LOURDES: Isn’t this my reckoning? 

EARLE: Is this a tragedy?

LOURDES: I hope not. 

EARLE: Listen. I’m not what you think I should be to you. I’m a user. Resentful. Angry and never satisfied. I’m unfaithful. I was unfaithful and that’s why I’m alone. Not because of anything I wanted my life to be. I’m here because I can’t be where I want to be.


EARLE: No matter how much you feel you can handle the situation. I’ll always look for the exit.

LOURDES smiles.

LOURDES: Of course you will.

EARLE: The only way I can take something from you is if you let me. 

LOURDES: And I let you. Because I wanted you. 


EARLE: Don’t be stupid. Play your cards better.

EARLE starts to move toward the door.

LOURDES: We need to finish this.

EARLE: What do yo think we can give each other?

LOURDES: This is a two way street. It didn’t just happen because I willed it to happen. You wanted something out of this.

EARLE: I got what I wanted.


LOURDES: I’ve never been able to understand your infatuation with Instagram. Perhaps that’s where it all is in terms of the deterioration of relationships, right? All stuck in a blip.

EARLE: . . .

LOURDES: Shallow games. Self worth tied to the “likes.” All Emojis and manipulations targeting for acknowledgement.

EARLE: You don’t post.

LOURDES: You noticed?


LOURDES: Texts.  Insta-posts. 

EARLE: Where are you going with this?

LOURDES: Blips don’t replace real connections. One can’t compete. I..I found myself going deep into their portal to find the truth about people. It became a distorted truth I’d think into my circle of want. Because in this brave new world, that’s the way we resort to find our place. This technology, held tight in our grip, begins to believe that people’s posts are their intuitive truths, their true first thoughts. But they’re masks? 

EARLE: They’re curated.

LOURDES: I found myself spending hours, scrolling posts, trying to find some understanding. Something you’d reveal so I’d know what you thought. If you’d thought about me. I posted for your to see me. Then, I had the brilliant idea of writing you a text. Participate on your level sorta speak.  Hoping there would be a cascade of conversation that would spark more, and more, and then open into something more meaningful. 

EARLE: Curated conversations.

LOURDES: But you didn’t play. So I swore it off. Had no interest communicating that way. Too much misunderstanding or avoidance. But there is something that kept calling me back. Our moments together lifted me. Made me feel I was doing something right. 

EARLE: I’m flattered but I’ve nothing worth giving.

LOURDES: Maybe you never stopped long enough to take notice.