Shut-up, Stranger

Sixth-sense brushes with the Supernatural

Celebratory tinnitus signaling soon-to-arrive portals

And I feel aglow

For, what I’d failed to recognize
All those years
The Stranger and her offspring wished to silence me

Instead, I bravely shout from the rooftops each day

What I used to fear, I ride out now, breathe easy and know

Answers are on their way

Justice is coming like a freight train

As I Stand Today

Ode to the she-stranger, whom I never met

Yesterday, upon my knees

“Respiras,” my aura begged her

Then quietly and years ago, she-stranger did oblige

As if she wore my atoms, said for only me to hear

“You lucky, lucky girl´┐╝.”

Original Thought Credit: Marty McConnell’s “FRIDA KAHLO TO MARTY McCONNELL”


Is my voice ever forever becoming quieter

A year ago, you’d be deeply troubled to hear it by now

Smaller, slighter, and far less full

More less of what you loved

Were I today

Speaking on the news

Inquiring in the produce department

Or campaigning next door

Don’t worry

Your ears would only find faint resemblance to some old someone

You’d not think to ask, “But who?”


So there I was settin’ on the outside stair, put there as punishment, I guess

Though, unlike most youngsters, I didn’t know what I’d done wrong

Left out to live, exposing my skin and my heart to the harsh elements

An occasional smile from a passing turtle or bumble bee sustained me

Probably they spotted my deer-in-the-headlights desperation from afar

Speaking some kindness, they felt, wouldn’t hurt any

If only they knew, scarcity would have me hanging on their every glorious word

Writing of them, strangers, all these years and footsteps forward, later

Filling in the blanks left by the one who left me settin’, sad on the outside stair


Were my hands not
Coated in blue and rubber
Covered in the grime and froth of you
I’d slip beyond 
My aching heart muscle
My pulsating hope muscle
Press pause
Scream your name
Then skip to the next song