Wednesday, November 30, 2016


I used to speak with a resolute cadence
A purposeful stepping, a dance
I used to puddle my musings together
And splash with the shot of a glance
I gathered rings like a dignified tree would
I aged with a calm from my roots
Days have since passed when I trusted the silence
My confidence finding the chutes
I never loaded my weapon, just held it
And prayed that the sight did the trick
Barking was easy, the problem was biting
No flame, I’m all wax and clean wick
Now I hurl words at the wall with a vengeance
And hope that a few of them stick
Never methodical, formulas absent
Glass house but I can't lift the brick
Scripts get developed and routines are born
Landing is never that hard
Surviving the impact, however, can vary
And that’s why I keep up my guard


Tuesday, November 29, 2016

I Prefer Weightlessness

I’m just a factory, billowing smoke
Old bedside whispers, pillowtalk, jokes
I stretch from east of the bed to the center
I lay like I’m leaving, like kisses I sent her
I stay in my bottle, a message I'm scrawling
My handwriting perfect, as if I’m just stalling
The clock grown suspicious, it's fully matured
I’m as sick as they come, my indifference not cured
I'm as rattled as cages, right where I once rested
I know not my merit, I’ve never been tested
I’m bested by blankets, I sleep just for dreaming
Half baked ideas, the other half steaming
I’m walking through courtyards, dueling for standing
I’m rough round the edges, I doubt I’ll see sanding
I’m landing, the blue sun is rising, ascension
I wake to a timer, a counted dimension


Now I Lay

Lies get imbedded, my bedding, I made it
As sleeping dogs lie, I arise, I’ve decayed it…
That living sense, breathing, the rise and the fall
Of a chest that I empty like I’ve got the gall
Like my cannon gets loaded and sprayed towards the bow
Like I don’t just accept it, like I ask you how
For forgetting is lovely for those who can do it
But my mistake haunts me like I still go through it
The older I get, and the smaller I’m growing
My old sense of self is so quick to keep slowing
And one day it’s snowing, the next the leaves greening
I've slayed all my time but I bore not its meaning
I just keep careening, I’ve lost all control
So I bought me this shovel, and dug me this hole
Where a soul can be buried along with the flesh
At least feed this old soil and grow something fresh


Thursday, November 17, 2016

Openings I Close

Should I choose not to engage my indifference
And shelter my need to exhume
Should I do battle with skeletons aging
And read the whole book, pre-assume
Might I taste bounty and sharpen the blade
I could slice the ingredients right
Might I brew solace, a cauldron created
I’ll sleep through the thief in the night
May my examples, excuses, the like
I pray all of them sink like a stone
May my decisions be crafted in workshops
Not pulled from a sorcerer's stone
Once, when the volume will match not the weight of it
Whispers, requirements met
Once, when I sought what I paced for the finish
I took strides I cannot forget


Thursday, November 10, 2016


I mean not to follow my burdens
They just make the widest of paths
I'd calculate all my decisions
If I could somehow do the math
And the paper I scratch has no space left
For my space, it runs mighty thin
But we all have done battle with endings
The real fight is strength to begin
Yes, we all have done battle with hating
The real fight is loving despite
And I swallow each drop of the darkness
An effort to show you my light
I’m a pacifist flexing my muscle
A soldier with guns on the ground
I'm a garden picked clean of its harvest
A poet who makes not a sound


Monday, November 7, 2016

As You Were

I appear drawn like these curtains
Scene, never centered on stage
I become, came this illusion
Older, but won’t come of age
I lost a piece of my puzzle
Nothing now fits like it would
I can mix bad with indifferent
Never can blend it with good


Friday, November 4, 2016

Never A Taste Without Tasting

Too many whispers in cold, stubborn hours
Too much relying on mythical powers
For ours is a movement that stands in one place
Shock ridden looks on each motionless face
My devotion misplaced in a fairy tale’s breath
While your oxygen courts me, and puts me to death
I’m obsessed with your verdict, no panel of peers
I keep penning me letters, sincerelys and dears
I just don’t have the postage, I don’t have the guts
Too much time open, I’m closing… I’m shut
Too much time hoping, I’m praying… I’m waiting
As once I was full, now I’m slowly deflating
Debating if argument’s sake is good cause
Or if birthing a change comes from deep, pregnant pause


Ready, Set, Grow

My heart sings of destiny, of shadows bathed in light Paths that form before my feet, and waiting out the night Journeys made for chosen...