Autobiography of a Poet
Ending verse
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

Dropping a line to La Betenoir.


I hate my neighbor.

And it's really quite a shame;
Because she's lived above me for years.
Yet I still forget her name.

Though she constantly disturbs my peace,
With the overly loud music she play.

I hate my neighbor.

But her children I could stand.
If they were led in the right direction.
By a tender guiding hand.

And she took more time with them,
Than some half drunk man.

I hate my neighbor.

Good Christian woman that I am.
Who's suppose to love everyone
Or my precious soul will be damned.

Yet, sadly, I know I'd lead the cheer.
Should she be hauled away by a meat van.

Oh no.

I hear the floor boards above my bed creak.
Please, let it not be the stereo she seeks.
Five seconds, ten seconds, I begin to relax.

Then the blaring noise hits me.
Square between the eyes like an axe.

I hate my neighbor.

And slowly, oh slowly I start to understand.
Why the out-of-control guy,
Took a freshly sharpened blade in his hand.

Then walked those steps to his neighbor's door.
And put a permanent stop to a favorite band.

But I inhale calmly, deeply.
And exhale ever louder still.
And I find my voice raised in the next song's trill.

The words of the racket which has off-set me,
And I weep for the disloyalty to my sanity, that I feel.

Yes, I hate my neighbor.
But yesterday for a split second,
I was tempted to behave as she.