Sonnet 29 ~ Shakespeare

When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries
And look upon myself and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possess'd,
Desiring this man's art and that man's scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least;
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate;
For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.

Sun Whisperer

Oh Biela Behave

Post Summer Harvest

fruits of crimson and leaves of green,

autumn warmth, sugar and plump

meet with buddha cheeks of harvest

round date earrings, tender and light

nectarine blush with pomegranate lipstick,

pick them like coquette pears, folds of a dress

elle se maquille dans le jardin

mother's garden, her dwelling-place,

somewhere in downtown, 
"Do you know the way to San Jose..."


in the Japanese neighborhood, in the backyard, 


sunlit smells of French monasteries and rivers

inside and outside, 
not so far away, 


tells the secret of the stomach


tells the secret of your heart 


bags full of grace, fruits of labor

touch you like my mother's smile in the cool shade.


By Mai Brehaut
~9/01