Nevertheless, She Persisted

Ariadne stepped out of her skin
into the swollen night, Theseus
sailed off from the barren rocks
and too tired from labyrinths and
half-brother bulls whose blood was
hot on her hands, still, days later,
she slept on the sandy shore, hair
a pillow of tangles, chiton fraying
what becomes of the Princess of Crete
when nobody but the bells of maenads
and prowling leopards remember you?
I will tell you: when the hero leaves
you become a goddess, and mad Dionysus
grows sweet on the girl who threads fate
through red string, you become the stars
dancing moon-mad in the forest with Cybele
your thyrsus wet with rain, your consort
and satyr court rambling across the world
fear not when first love leaves you for
bolder adventures await brave maidens who
cast aside comfort for adventure, you will
become a legend in your own time, just wait
the gods will smile upon the lost, but on
that windswept island, Ariadne was not found,
instead, she discovered herself, and when she
made a bed of seagull feathers and seaweed,
she knew, her fiery heart would give warmth
to a girl becoming a goddess, and that she
was never lost to begin with, instead, she
charted her own fate, beat her own drum on
the pearly sand – she summoned Dionysus herself
and now all we remember is the wine-dark girl
who took destiny into her own hands and wove
abandonment into salvation, she who persevered
Ariadne was left, nevertheless, she persisted.


Trump Impeachment Party

The orange-faced clown spins rings of folly
in the middle of the circus, lions circling
his dance is off-kilter, face-plant in mud,
not all the money in the world brings honor
instead he’s uncrowned, laughingstock fool,
and we eat popcorn in the stands, cheering
the fall of a circus freak too dumb to rule.

The New Left Blossoms

Snowdrops push through the frost
defiant ivory buddings of truth
so too will justice bloom in
America, purity spreading from
the people, washing away the
cold greed of winter men as we
march, protest, spring up fresh
as a song gently plucked on the
strings of resistance, we are the
new elegy of rebellion, we will
bring equality and love to a
nation torn apart, like the
fragrant blooms of February,
thriving in the darkest months.

American Dreamers

You ask me why I care, why I fight?

I care for the boy that binds his breasts
only to feel the pain of parent’s disapproval,
the thought that bathrooms are somehow moral
that dating is dangerous and could lead to death.

I care for the young woman who can’t attend college
because her parents slipped silently through Texas
cradle-bound in a train, straight A’s now, she is
everything we could want in an American Dreamer.

I care for the man whose factory shut down
who is jobless, depressed, and lost, outsourced
to foreign shores: still he sings his skills
could craft metallic beauty, yet machines won.

I care for the Iranian grandmother whose hijab
was egged as she was vulnerable, grocery shopping
how she cried in front of her young grandson
thinking this is not the country she came to.

I fight for you, for them, for us.

We will not go silently into the night.

We will rage, rage
against the dying
of the light.

A New Day, a True Day

Dawn rose, the cotton clouds parted, and swans arose from slumber
The Beltway snaked like an ouroboros, the Potomac swelled with light –
Politicians drank coffee black at the Tune Inn, Washingtonians whispered:
The days go on, the hours roll like the Appalachian mountains, we wake and wonder
Is this enough? Some celebrate, some mourn, but life’s wheel turns with water
Some water tears, some water heart’s blood, some water breaking for new life
New blood, a movement awakened – the disenfranchised, the young heart drums,
Muslims, Latinx, women, Millenials – we will be your judges, Washington –
We will make our voices heard – by the millions, as these four years march on
We will sound the gong, we will turn the tide, grow not complacent, Capitol Hill
We are your children and we rage. We are your children and we rage.