Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Time Traveler

IMG_2103This is modern ‘translation’ of the famous poem ‘How Do I Love Thee?’ by Elizabeth Barrett Browning that I wrote a few years ago. It was more an exercise in helping me understand the original poem than an actual independent piece – maybe it will help you in understanding too. The photo is picture I snapped of an old night club in Chicago. If only clubs like this still existed.

Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Time Traveler

How do I love you? Let me spell it out.

I love you to the depth and width and height

My soul can stretch, when everything is perfect

And I know how limitless God and his grace are.

I love you in the crush of everyday,

From sunrise to lights out.

I love you with the freedom of God’s righteousness;

I you with the purity of true humility.

I love you with the passion

That was almost burnt out by my other pursuits,

And with the heart I had as a guileless child.

I love you with the love I almost thought taken

By growing up – I love you with my breathing lungs,

My smiling mouth, my crying eyes, forever!

And if you should die,

I shall only love you better after death.


Running is Belonging

photo (21)

Running is belonging
To a secret weird club.
I pass other runners
On the sidewalk and they nod,
Initiation into a solitary gang of
Concrete trotters
Late-night endorphin junkies
Neon-shoed rock-music blare-ers
Quiet heaving breathers
Who hate standing still
More than they hate moving.

Anything Other

The semester is over

She said through a mouthful of celebratory flourless chocolate cake.

Now I have time to write poetry about

Christmas lights The way cold smells in the city Mistletoe kisses Fireplace crackle

Anything other

Than something someone else

Chose and assigned.


“There is much to be thankful for,”
I hear every year
On the third Thursday of November.

But there is much to be thankful for
On the second Monday in July
The fourth Saturday in January
The first Wednesday in March.

Much to be thankful for
In the slow hour during the night shift
The 8:10 class with an uninteresting professor
The chicken-sandwich-and-fries dinner with a sister.

As long as there is a pulse of blood in my wrist
A world as big as the stars for us to discover
Quiet love glowing out of eyes that know me well

There will be much to be thankful for.