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Confession And Plea

CONFESSION AND PLEA

I confess
I am lost
Please help me

Am I here to teach?
Or else to learn?
Maybe both?

I confess
I am lost
Please help me

Must we always be acting
From our wounded places?
Or first be acting to heal?

I confess
I am lost
Please help me

It is clear you are lost too
Stop being a smartarse
Just be a child, be kind

She Seats Herself To Write

SHE SEATS HERSELF TO WRITE

She seats herself to write

Half fearing her writing
Will drive her mad while
Half hopes it will cure her

In two minds – Ah, if only
Thinks were so simple
Turmoil turmoil turmoil

Enough! Dismisses them all
And seats herself to write

Memoirs

MEMOIRS

A story or two
They’d tell out
These folded fingers
If gifted a fresh blush of
Lips, palate, tongue

A blessing this perhaps
Or rather more a curse
Or better still the both
A confession, an absolution
Each sat astride its mirror

Hubris swallowed, spat out
These crablike fingers
Clutching at straws
While nearby a camel
Patiently awaits a breaking

Oh, what a story
They would spill
Then two then three
Then four than five
These mottled fingers

Target

TARGET

Harm not another
In action, even in thought
One day, I promise

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