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i write poetry in my mind, and sometimes on paper.
latest
poem one hundred and thirty three.
hello to your heart
which bursts forth
though i don’t deserve it
(none of us deserve it)
poem one hundred and thirty two.
do you ever just
reach into your ribs
pull out your heart
gripping every last
coagulated thought
thrust it forth
into the world
so they might finally
understand
poem one hundred and thirty one.
the wine aflame
flooding the ragged
hollow of my heart
my eyes singed
poem one hundred and thirty.
a frivolous handful of
November bread
a tree grows in my brain
this town gets smaller every day
poem one hundred and twenty nine.
leaves of grass untouched
held by winter’s grasp
suspended only in memory
of sunlight
the clouds have other chores
battering a hardy world
with fragile flakes
poem one hundred and twenty eight.
how mushrooms shrink
in the pan
their putrid earth
staining
as fingertips
nurture
their bed
poem one hundred and twenty seven.
writhing
in a moment
of memory
torrential rain
can’t disguise
my grin
poem one hundred and twenty six.
they pant, the birds
trudging on ragged wing
the sultry, trembling earth
pours its soul
into a plunging cup
poem one hundred and twenty five.
brown spots
darkening
softened
with sweetness
but is sugar weak
if we are made of it?
poem one hundred and twenty four.
the lights glean
their first farewell
i would that i were
privy to your faults
as i am
your shining eyes
poem one hundred and twenty three.
remember crackling flames
the crashing waves
stow the stars
in folds of night
the sand unmarred
by sailor’s foam
an unrelenting dance
forgive the crude
concrete form
it juts
from imperfect
perfection
poem one hundred and twenty two.
take the girl to the sea
her shoulders worn
and pale
pour her into a cup
fear not the flames
that lick her bones
poem one hundred and twenty one.
she perched
at dusk
peering
into the night
between them
a silent question
lingered
poem one hundred and twenty.
perhaps your
fears are merely
friends
who dared
to close
their eyes
poem one hundred and nineteen.
tumbling
impertinent
mews
the scraping
of life
clawing
to survive
poem one hundred and eighteen.
drowning in
coagulating memory
it drifts
on the wind
like oil
on the sea
poem one hundred and seventeen.
unified ink
drips
shimmering
slick
smacking
like peanut butter
on a dog’s tongue
poem one hundred and sixteen.
painful
wretched
fear
of the foreshadowed
peaks
bare
against the wind
poem one hundred and fifteen.
she bathes
in the sweet
moonlight
of shared sorrow
pink suds
stark
against the night
poem one hundred and fourteen.
grass weaves
a pattern
into her palms
as she’s lost
once more
in the sunshine
i believe that words can change the world
