A poem about the soul’s power. — At first, it seemed the fire only burned for itself the wax dripped to the table and formed little ponds on which the shadows of that flame would dance the singular spark of something inexplicable not important really but for the singular reason that it couldn’t find another use for…

A poem in your footsteps — your mother found me pacing endlessly on an empty stretch of beach the rising tide turned the sand to mercury well, not scientifically anyway, I waited for her for you soaked to the bone in my bathing suit freezing and sad before she arrived I was just one of the manifold…

Pandemonium poem “I was birthed restless and elsewhere” — Patricia Smith, “Katrina.” They swept us away, those wakeless waves our bones caverned, bodies brittle, curved stiff where did we start when the storm began? ‘cause yeah, we existed before he merged us into his vortex, his entropy, his ultimate truth …

Coming to life

A Specter of My Love —

A love poem —

the quivering moment of knowledge you, here, in the mirror that shakes under the heat-pressure of an open, wide flame The simple condensation on a hot glass on a fired-up kiln on a shower door that reflects back at you a naked breast No face for what this is and still I capture the leaf as it falls budding in midair into an impossible fruit stolen blueprint from another tree

The secrets we carry

the purpose and driving force of my art — My name is Rajzel — I am a poet my mother is a poet, my grandmothers poets, my father a poet, my grandfathers poets. my great grandmothers were poets, my great grandfathers, all of them, poets How were they poets? They did not write poems. Because my name is Rajzel — they were, in essence…