rise again
September 5, 2017 § Leave a comment
when the ocean falls
but rises like a bird dives
then rises as a carousel dips
and rises to the falling winds
which rise like a smile turns
and rises like the sun sets
but always, always rises.
Mind Games
November 7, 2014 § 1 Comment
I wish I could be introspective every single day
I dream of molding thoughts abstract, like artwork out of clay
Construct idealic phrase so fast, leave audiences beaming
Pen existential metaphors, of which no ones knows the meaning
I wish my mind was free to mull over eloquently structured phrase
I would write down all my profound thoughts and not run out for days
How nice to conjecture Kafkaesque verse with flair and frequency
It’s just a bit hard when my mind is filled with thoughts like, “Gee, I have to pee.”
spoken word at the uptown arts bar
October 24, 2014 § 2 Comments
they stood beneath the spotlight
underneath the dancing dust
that drifted and fell in lazy patterns
and clung to their lashes like snow, yet they stared ahead
they stood beneath that heavy light
and took hazy swirls of smoke
upon their shoulders, they stood
so serenely
beneath the light that blinded
them from the crowd
they stood and spoke
in an effortless tongue that felt
and fell upon surrounding ears
and I could never see
myself in them. They were another species,
I, just a detached observer
taking in a spectacle,
like animals at the zoo.
they stood beneath the spotlight
that cast so much blinding light
onto every inch of who they were
and they couldn’t hide
behind the rusted microphone stand
and when they spoke
they were anything but caged
they were so
very, very free
pulse
August 7, 2014 § 3 Comments
if we repeated the same words
again and again, like heartbeats
keeping pace with life, like drumbeats
shouting above the melody,
calls of meaning and rushes of sound
that keep time with our rhythm
it’s like we want something to change
it’s like we need something to end
but those words just keep beating,
like my heart for you.
question
July 21, 2014 § 2 Comments
does anyone else
use their fingers to count each
haiku syllable?
ok good.
uncovered
July 10, 2014 § Leave a comment
I find hope at the bottom of drawers
caught between pages
stuck together by time
written in a hurried hand
rushed ink that speaks
meaning from years ago
still waiting on wilted pages
for an ear to listen
calling from its home
to be lifted from those pages
to write
May 25, 2014 § 2 Comments
It’s so difficult to count
everything and all of it
and remember
the best of it, the worst of it
I can’t fathom the thought
of forgetting any of it, the rest of it
so I write it down
to live it again and again
the joy of it, the end of it,
the all of it
If
May 22, 2014 § 4 Comments
if I made a wish
to float above the trees
and dip my toes
into glassy seas
would it ever match
the pure joy and ease
of unplanned and pure
spontaneity?
On the tragedy of words
May 14, 2014 § 1 Comment
The tragedy of words
is simply the many
that remain unsaid
the eras of feeling
and novels of truth
and epics of heroism
caught within
nets of hesitance
they struggle and pry
trying to find
a way to pour out
freed from reluctance
without fear of effect
they wish, but remain
and the tragedy
remains too
rosepoems 