Category Archives: Poetry


If our voices are blessings
Why do we send cryptic messages
By laws of strange patterns
From the corners of our minds?
Out of reach for our eyes
But not quite lies
Just a cover
A poem for our lover
A song masked in wonder leaves me wondering why
Why do we play these games?
Why do we raise our frames?
The very structure isn’t sound
I said it, so let it resound
Through the cracked and jaded bones
While I’m waiting for my throne
I’m not there yet
Just a sec
Just one more moment and I’ll make it
But the seat remains untaken
Still today
Why couldn’t I speak clearly?
I paid my taxes yearly
I’m afraid
I can’t jump off the ground to speak
So my future’s just as bleak
As yesterday
I try to figure out a way to project my voice up from the ground
And you hardly hear a sound
I’ve gotta jump
I’m a lazy useless lump
I’m a shell of person until I realize my vision
Let me speak with precision
And I’m up
I’m up and I won’t come down
It’s an aluminum foil crown
I’ll speak my mind
I’m not the queen of words unspoken
I’m the queen of words unheard
Today I’ll learn.

Today I’ll learn.

The Branding

I’m unwilling
Unwilling to take my time and be patient
I’m unwilling to take the time to find a rhyme
Stick with it
Sure, I’m unwilling to be patient
I refuse
But there’s no taking time with passion
I’m set to use
My reserves
I’m ready to go
But no matter the fire in my soul
No oxygen
No pull

I settle
Settling down in an occupied chair to wait
There are sandwiches, but dust pollutes the plate
They’re doing the branding now
There’s no landing now
I throw the plate at the clock
And it stops
Released from my plush confines
I walk away with a rhyme and a lesson
I’m in (control)
I’m on patrol
I’m in control so long as I’m willing.


It stormed last night
Quite a fright
People were running for cover

It was quiet last night
After the fight
When the thunder was finally over

Dawn broke
The sun rose
From wherever she had hidden

To her dismay
When she rose today
She wished that she were bedridden

A final crack of lightning split the sky
The thunder didn’t come, and light burned our eyes
And when we finally
Something new

A rainbow in the sky; thank you, sun
We thought it was so high
But we were wrong

A bullet and a rainbow
A bullet and the sun
A bullet through the sky
And the bullet has won

It stormed this morning, when we thought it was done
The sound of thunder
One noise

It was quiet in the evening
Nobody’s leaving
Goodbye, we’re sorry, sun.

Love Thy Neighbor

I left at the unintentional stroke of a sword

It was evening, and I was on my knees, speaking with the lord

There was a clamor behind my back

I didn’t turn at first, for it wasn’t rare

And I was far too immersed in my prayer

Two drunks in that bar, note, the bar was mine

They were fighting for love, or for lust, or for wine

Unholy, I muttered, those ungrateful swine

Then one drew his weapon, swung it straight in a line

You recall he was drunk, so all lines were blurred

Like his his vision

I did not speak, he did not swing with precision

God looked on in derision

“Love thy neighbor,” he spoke

Yes, I heard God talk

Suddenly, I could no longer walk

I could not get off of my knees, you see

And that’s how they found me

The drunks were gone, and there lay I

My body consumed, for it was my time to die.


You’re running
She’s cunning
There’s nowhere to go but up
You’re fighting
She’s screaming
You’re digging into bedrock
Mom doesn’t want you home
But there’s nowhere else to go
So you’re gone
Until two months ago
The day that you called me and told me
I was angry
Simple as that
The kind of rage that could hold me at a distance
Far away
I swore, I swore that’s where I would stay
And I’m not one to break my promises
So here I am today
I’m wearing black
The kind of black that’s vast and will block my view
I’m crying again
The kind of tears that are there when the day is through
I’m calling
I’m screaming
Mom’s begging me to stop
I’m running
She’s coming
There’s nowhere to go but up.


She liked to think that she was more refined

Than she once was

Less trusting but more kind

Not a lost cause

Maybe she was right

Maybe she knew herself

Or perhaps not


It’s not a lie, really, truly

Her brain has just become a bit…unruly

She’s lost track of some things

Unimportant things, just bites and stings


Until the police come with a warrant

and she can’t quite recall why

Until a man in a suit is asking why they had to die


It’s taxing!

Oh, the sweat under threat

Under heat for a crime she had



‘Twas another

A sister or brother, lost among the mess that she’d replaced


She liked to think she was more refined

Standing in line to get her meal

She liked to think she was getting neater

Curled against the rattling heater

Gripped by the chill of the fever preceding death.

The Almighty Crash and Tumble

Your smile, submissive, is evergreen

or so I thought

An evergreen can’t stay green when they

Chop down the tree

Your smile, your eyes, your skin

The entire ensemble

Brought down

The almighty crash and tumble

Your smile, shy, is fading

And the words die on my lips

An inky spill cascading

To kiss your fingertips

Your smile, gone, is painful

Your eyes and skin have parted

It’s not your fault you left me



File Room

Here lies a folder
Standard in appearance
But it weighs like a boulder
And the inside isn’t coherent

It’s written in code
I catch some words–snow?
You could read it, it appears
Were you here

You aren’t here, you haven’t been
Not for a while
And now I have seen
The folder’s one of a pile
A collection, a hoard
Written down on a board
At the back of this room of unshakeable gloom
It’s addressed to you
That’s your name, I know
It’s one of the few
Those few seem to glow

They stand out from the crowd, with deliberate makes
Whoever held the chalk pressed hard, letters dark
It’s unfortunate, I guess
To stand out from the rest
At least to me, in this room, it seems
I can tell that your folder weighs more than the others
The cover’s not pressed, it’s cracked, wrinkled, weathered
But perhaps I was wrong when I judged good or bad
When I touch these pages, I cannot be sad, or mad, feel bad
They’re soft, fine, expensive, the paper is warm
It’s warm though it’s worn, and folded, and torn

I see now what’s in this folder
This not-standard folder
That weighs like a boulder

I think I’ll stay in this room for a while
I feel that there’s more to read in the pile.


Eyes like the skies
Like moonlit pools, so bright they can blind
Her skin is like her hair
Soft, pale, and fair
Her beauty and rare, and she knows it
They know she knows
He knows she knows
And when he knows she knows, he won’t let her get close
“Why don’t they like me?”
That she can’t see

A hand taps her shoulder, she looks about
There’s a shadow of a figure in the corner of her bedroom
“My name’s Doubt, who are you?”
She introduces herself with the trace of a grin
But later, there’s a prickling under her skin
She gets up to look, and rubs at the mirror
Shouldn’t the picture be a bit clearer?
Maybe she hasn’t seen her face for too long
It looks wrong
Something’s wrong
She turns away from the mirror with the trace of a grimace
No matter how hard she tries
Squints at her image
She sees no moonlit pools, no skies
Her skin is too pale, her hair is too shiny
Her mouth is too big, her nose is too tiny
She sits on her bed and thinks for a while
Tries to remember the feel of a smile
Doubt must know, with that grin on her face
That kind when you taste a familiar taste
That kind of laugh when someone else falls
It’s gleeful, and pleased, and a tiny bit cruel

So she sits and she thinks
And she thinks
And she thinks
There are words on her tongue, she’s on the brink
She never speaks, though
She never said
Doubt deals the next blow
She can’t lift her head
Her chin is weighed down
By the heavy frown

…but what’s that glimmer?
A gemstone?
It’s a crown
A queen’s crown
Atop her head
It’s crafted from words that a stranger said

Doubt’s smile disappears
The grin falls down from the tips of her ears
A pile on the floor
Doubt fought with words, and lost the war
Dusty and fine
She steps on that pile time after time.

Day. Month. Year.

Do you ever feel like you’re plucking words from the air?
Like it’s thick with them
You know that they’re there!
So you stick with them

But sometimes the words that you pluck don’t match
So you set them free
Release the catch
Then hours later, standing below a tree
Suddenly the air is full of visible poetry!
You see the match that you missed before
Your mind is full of rhyme and rhythm galore!

Oh, the beauty of those poetic days
Too bad that they’re rare, and they come with a haze
The haze lasts for days
Right after the peak
And out, out, out, those words leak
Little by little, those poems disappear
Until you’re left with one, for that day. Month. Year