crying angel

Dear friend,

If you are enjoying a stable life for even a few moments each day,

do not fall in love.

If you have no attachments, protect this peace of mind.

Do not fall in love.


Falling in love is a drug with strange side effects.

The more you need him, the less he will want you.

So never need him.

The more you give, the more he will crave —

and at the same time — become barren of ideas of how to include you in his life.

The more time you spend obsessing about him, the less time he will have for you.


It defies explanation — the effects of this addiction to diminishing dreams and

shifting personas.


If I have reached you when it is already too late (ah, poor woman, you succumbed to the fantasy of love again), I have recommendation.

Forget any expectations you have of him.


Surrender to his fading interest.

Surrender to his undying attention to the demands of all others in his life.

Surrender to reality.

Surrender to seeing him everywhere you look —

every moment, every day with nothing to compare.

Surrender to your paradise lost — having never really been gained.


To reiterate it simply,

do everything in your power to never fall in love.

Surrender to daily life,

but do not fall in love.


But you will fall in love.

And so will I.







A poem revisited: To My Muse

Here you are.

Be close and distant.

My art will change and remain.

Do as you will.

Sail far beyond the Isle of Reason and Emotion.

Shape shift as you will,

To the point of delusion and elusion.

Sleep with one thousand newly fertile or virile virgins

All at the same time.

Make tryst history

With innumerable carnal reciprocities.

Meditate for years

In the cloistered Genie bottle.

Do as you will.

Don’t leave.

cr_MichaelParkes-023-TheRiver (menage e toi)
All art by Michael Parkes



To Unusual Love


We’d met before — it was plain to see.

Dancing in silk — entwined branches at night.

Souls familiar as the sun goes down.

Your time had come while mine ran out.

Your coffee in sweet morning delight.

I thank kind Stars you came back to me.


yes that night

I slept with you on the rooftop — under blazing surrealism.

The occasional truck tapped as it passed on the nearby road.

Sweet-natured cows munched their feed below us.

I struggled to keep my eyes open as long as I could.

As dawn drifted upward, my heart became shadowy.

This will be my remembered starry

Paradise forever.




No Comment
Thank you, photographer of this online photo.

The ancient Wise One said, “Those who are ashamed of me and my words, of them I will be ashamed….”


It is still true.

If you are ashamed to be a friend of someone who has shown you only kindness and generosity,

it is a putrid shame.

Lonely women: A totally fictional post about a totally fictional love.

lonely woman pixabay
Online image — Pixabay

For almost 4 years I tried to win your heart, invisible man. It has been a rough euphoria. Many times I have been shot through by doubt, attacked by ageism, sexism and hatred of foreigners. But I soldiered on, believing that love conquers all.


Are you a man who wants me but does not want me? Is there any other kind of man, my shadow love?

I wonder why I am drawn to shadow lovers. Perhaps there is a part of my heart that believes I do not deserve to be adored by someone who is actually here. There is also part of me that believes I am a siren. What in me are you attracted to?

I understand that you have seen my full humanity, and it has angered and frightened you. You have angered and frightened me. I have felt the same things you have felt.

At times my feelings have been totally disregarded, but my love has been strong. (Or maybe just stupid.) Sometimes a woman needs reassurance of faithfulness. (I believe, however, there is no such thing. It should not be an issue for me. How I wish I was free of caring too much.) I truly wish to believe in faithfulness and at the same time to detach.

I am foolish-renegade-wild brave, but I am not stupid. This can be exhausting. On the other hand, I am watching your bondage to obsolete and cruel traditions destroy you. Or me. Destroy us, for sure.

I realize now, dear shadow, that I cannot take on an entire nation. I can no longer win millennia of hollow hearts with wise words, charm, ambassadorship or arguing. There is no jump-starting hearts that have been dead for five thousand years.

And so, in despair, I back off. I give up.

And forever long to hear the vibration of the damn I phone.


(This fictional post regards lonely women who are victimized by online predators.)








bewitched (2)

This past year was filled with shock.

I found my dear one whom I lost whom I found again.

I lost my heart to a tough tender prison

Held by my own will and longing.

I heard “I am forever with you in your heart.”

“I am with you,” from the opposite side of the world.

In the old year I was the universal spiritual soul.

In the new year, don’t talk to me about spiritual love.

Give me your love god body –

Your blood, bone, sweat and moans body.




silent jean

Luke 2:19 ~ But Mary (the mother of Jesus) treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart.

Ecclesiastes 3:7b ~ …. a time to keep silence and a time to speak ….

I talk too much. I am one to process my thoughts aloud. This Advent season, I am suddenly aware of how much unnecessary junk I say.

Jean, be quiet.