Youthful and bright- when skipping madly down the hill
towards the oak trees and past the water mill
the green leaves, secret shells, and animal bones

Color Synaesthesia is a poem that I wrote for a class assignment. It was subsequently published in my college's student journal of art and literature. I hope you enjoy it...Sometimes I cry when I read it. :(

Could tell him off

Could talk back

But something about him

Said to me

That if I did that

He’d make things worse

And get them

To do psycho surgery.

Bay Area Icarus was revived last summer, and we are officially full of surging, irreverent life.   We held our first event on Valentine's Day--Mad Love.  We had an open mic, a skilled MC, a cabaret of musicians and poets, and the evening skyrocketed to a close with the Brass Liberation Orchestra.

If you were there, you know.  If not, read on!  Almost as good. :)

How could you not know?

Don’t you care about me?

How could you not know?

We’ve talked about it

A zillion times.

How could you not know?

How could you

Do that

Against me.

Curl up and disappear

That’s what happens

I protested loudly
I made myself heard
And even though alone
I raised the tone.