Twelve.

I would drown myself in a salty sea
if it meant I would become a mermaid.

I dream of strange, scaly skin
and unexplained breathing organs
and knotted tendrils of course hair
and brine-resistant eyes
and infinite, dangerous space to explore.

I don't care for my two legs
(too many limbs to trip me up)
and I have no need for fashion
or oxygen.

I think I'd be a better friend to the anemones
than these awkward humans
I don't understand.

As long as I had my books
and my words
and my wonderful husband,
I wouldn't mind
leaving this corrupting species
behind
to destroy the earth some more.

Eleven.

Niceties have long been forgotten -
only defenses, shields remain.
Perhaps if you had listened to my concerns
an agreement could have been reached.

Since you have ignored me,
only one option seems legitimate,
possible - fight back, fight hard
and demand that you reconsider

what freedom really means.

Because you aren't fighting piracy anymore -
you're fighting art,
you're fighting innovation,
you're fighting creation,
you're fighting liberty.

And are you really ready
to bear the responsibility
of trying to destroy those
things?

Ten.

Nine.

Observation of a Slam Poet


Self-deprecating fidgeter
caffeine-based adrenaline
fueling nervous sentences
that calm as he transforms
poet to performer
in a matter of seconds
part dancer, part musician,
part lovestruck,
wholly talented

Perform, perform,
pause, applause
sip sip
coffee's gone, quickly consumed,
and the water bottle cap is elusive
when crazy energy rattles his extremities

He answers challenging questions
with an eccentric grace and
child-like exuberance.
Each word he speaks
is laced with impenetrable,
irrefutable passion
that infects every
single
person
who listens to him,
regardless of age or
understanding of poetry.

There is magic in the way he
moves,
spins stories,
harnesses words -
an alchemy
I won't forget.

Eight.

At YAK yesterday, I attended a poetry workshop/reading hosted by Colin R. Gilbert. He asked us to pick three-five words off of the YAK program, and then instructed us to write a poem using them. I have highlighted my five words, though you could probably guess at least one of them. Thank you, Colin, for the awesome session!

At four in the morning, I often consult Sasquatch
because innovation is a two-way mirror
and I'm on the wrong side of the glass.

When Sassy speaks, ideas begin to tingle
behind my eyes, and I am suddenly speculative,
contemplative, percolating.