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Akin to most, I dwell in dialect of dichotomy.
My writing reflects those contradictions.

Some poems swallow me to the depths of pure agony.
I have born enormous burden of smothering sorrow,
squeezed my grief through constricted tear ducts.
My angry heart fumes, smolders, and burns to charcoal ash.
I am plunged breathlessly into unimaginable anguish.

Many poems soar over heights of a beautiful bond.
With an insatiable appetite to wordsmith my deepest thoughts,
I sing of a relationship that is innocent, intimate and elegant.
I experience the brilliant light of love’s glory,
celebrate in songs of adoration, passion and commitment.

This transcending seesaw ride of self discovery
is mirrored in voracious fury of my poetic rant,
tasted in tender tranquility of my lyrical chant.
I escape from the aching, dark, dreary, dastardly dungeon
into indebtedness for each and every morning sunrise.

Woodstock, New York
November 6, 2010