If I Cannot Air This Pain And

If You Come As Softly As Wind Within The Trees You May Hear What I Hear See What Sorrow Sees. If You Come As Lightly As Threading Dew I Will Take You Gladly Nor Ask More Of You. You May Sit Beside Me Silent As A Breath Only Those Who Stay Dead Shall Remember Death. And If You Come I Will Be Silent Nor Speak Harsh Words To You. I Will Not Ask You Why, Now. Or How, Or What You Do. We Shall Sit Here, Softly Beneath Two Different Years And The Rich Earth Between Us Shall Drink Our Tears.

I Am Still Learning - How To Take Joy In All The People I Am, How To Use All My Selves In The Service Of What I Believe, How To Accept When I Fail And Rejoice When I Succeed.

Poetry Is Not A Luxury.

Sadomasochism Is An Institutionalized Celebration Of Dominant/subordinate Relationships. And, It Prepares Us Either To Accept Subordination Or To Enforce Dominance. Even In Play, To Affirm That The Exertion Of Power Over Powerlessness Is Erotic, Is Empowering, Is To Set The Emotional And Social Stage For The Continuation Of That Relationship, Politically, Socially, And Economically.

What I Leave Behind Has A Life Of Its Own.