Autobiography of a Poet
Chapter on Becoming Pt. Two
Chapter on Childhood (9 - 17)
Chapter on Becoming (18 -30)
Chapter on Becoming (30 - 40)
Chapter on Becoming Pt. Two
Chapter on Being a Mother
Between Man and Woman
Still Working it Out Between Man and Woman
The Man And Woman Thing...It Still Works
Lover, By Name Called
Lover, By Name Called II
Lover, By Name Called III
Lover, By Name Called IV
Lover, By Name Called V
In and Out of Love
Still Falling In and Out of Love
Romantic Love
Distance Loving
More verse
Through Depression
Ending verse

The mature woman, is still coming into her own. 


He cut me

Not with a knife, but with his words.
And they, sharper that a tiger's tooth,
Rip through that once proud shield.
And left me bleeding on the floor.

He burned me.

Not with fire, but with the flame.
Of his disdain as the ashes of my once
Strong dignity fluttered to the ground.
And flew away on the winds of disillusion.

He raped me.

Not with his sword, but with his love.
And I cringed and fought, screamed,
And caved, my wounds festering.
Never being allowed to heal.


Once done with me, he sought another.
Once completed with her one more woman he found.
Tearing each of us down, leaving us whimpering,
Shivering, crying.

Rolling over us like a freight train
Laughing over our mangled remains.
Refusing us respect, hope, love,

For none of these survive long
When wanton destruction blocks the rays of
Hope. They cannot grow.
And--God, how hard the struggle.

To learn to walk again, to trust again.
To love again, to live again.
But walk I do. And live I must.
For to do anything less, would make a loser of me.
And he the winner.

Abuse kills. Neglect kills.
Long before the body dies.
And the stench permeates the rest of life.
From which out of this indignity grew.



Out! Out! damn spot.

You've caused me more distress

than failure ever could.


Out! Out! damn spot.

On my conscious you weigh

heavily like a lead hat.


Out! Out! damn spot.

Though I have valiantly tried

to displace you, still you remain.


Out! Out! damn spot.

You hurt me, and I like a weakened

babe lie helpless on the floor.


Out! Out! damn spot.

Like a cloak of despair about

my shoulders you cling.


Out! Out! damn spot.

You taunt me, torture me, terrorize

and paralyze me.


Out! Out! damn spot.

but for you, I could be whole,

but for you I could fly.


So out, out, damn spot.

Upon my conscious you may lie,

but never on my soul.


Damned spot begone!

...aah sweet emancipation.


                  ( Sometimes it is the wrongs which we can't forgive which haunt us)




From out of childhood's loneliness,

From hope, which quickly became despair.

From my footsteps constant unrest,

From my dreams which proved a nightmare.


From where my doubts became my fears,

From where my hope soon disappeared.

From where my life became many years,

From hatred my head reared.


From the name my mother laid on me,

From the calls of gentlemen.

From my lovers loving came me,

From a thought left unremem'd.


From the mist in which I solidified,

From the final discourse, respite.

From the darkness made now into light,

From out of this stepped I.