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i write poetry in my mind, and sometimes on paper.
latest
poem seventy three.
i gaze
across the sea
of memory
the winds
are soft
the spray
stings
a small
cruelty
poem seventy two.
i stood
poised
a spaceship
primed
for takeoff
the countdown
clock
counting
down
poem seventy one.
an imperfect phrase
teeters
on my doorstep
flitting
to my windowsill
roosting
like a robin
in winter
poem seventy.
putting the pieces
back together
that even
super glue
cannot mend
you reach
into the real
and bring back
hope
poem sixty nine.
today i
achieved
the dawn
of a new
age
an ironclad
opportunity
a golden moment
of perspective
poem sixty eight.
do you watch
as she waddles
to the edge?
as she teeters
precariously
upon her perch
the height
unnerving
but
unreal
poem sixty seven.
shoving syllables
into a sieve
of simplicity
satisfying
something
somewhere
for someone
poem sixty six.
music creates
a space
in me
i go in secret
she who
creates music
changes everything
poem sixty five.
unimaginable
positivity
a silent eruption
impossible noise
everything
is going to be
okay
poem sixty four.
hesitating
to speak
my fear
perfect within
perfect without
today
i cry
for a new reason
poem sixty three.
my heart
at a stalemate
with my mind
in disagreement
with my feet
unsure
where to turn
poem sixty two.
i writhe
in a constant state of
distemper
discomfort
but then i
press play
something shifts
and i
breathe
poem sixty one.
have you ever
considered
how the volcano might feel?
it’s impossible to describe
the way the
lava bursts forth
but not before
bubbling
burning
its way up
a cruel creation
of itself
hot tears
yearn for the air
poem sixty.
i sift
through the ashes
of my heart
my skin
singed
by the memory
poem fifty nine.
but why shouldn’t i speak
as i step to the precipice
and glance casually over
poem fifty eight.
my home smelled like a hospital
the putrid clean burned my eyes
when i think about who
i want to be
it is
to be a self
rewritten
from a lost first draft
poem fifty seven.
a sand hill
in a glass globe
stored in trays
they grovel
bent before
their god
like chocolate chip cookies
on a baking sheet
i was part of an army
who discovered
this place
poem fifty six.
oh hello
to the light
in your eyes
two strangers
on a train
meet and
a moment
stretches
into a lifetime
they ride horseback
alone on a mountain
in their minds
the tracks
turn
they sway
they keep
walking
instead
poem fifty five.
i live in a world
of coffee
and poetry
words flow
until they stop
guttered
shunted to the side
by the small slopes
of life
ushered
into the mouths
of the starved
who seek
caffeine
and humility
poem fifty four.
a wistful sweetness
permeates
the air
sanding
the rough edges
of a memory
his lilt
a salve
for my tender heart
i believe that words can change the world
