Caught

May 14, 2014 § 2 Comments

like your wild eyes
I never stopped running
toward the dancing flame

the search

May 8, 2014 § 2 Comments

inspiration rests
on roses and mountain tops,
between storied pages and hemispheres,
among rushed crowds and hands held,
it comforts prayerful knees,
and falls in time with pouring rain,
it’s the voice on the other end,
and the stars on my dashboard,
and it rests quietly, profoundly,
always before us,
but always within.

life

April 16, 2014 § Leave a comment

if
life goes on
and on, and on
then why is it that
life is short
you would think that if
life is like a box of chocolates
then it would be easy to
choose a path since
every life choice
could end up good
like
life is good
and
life’s a beach
and sometimes also
life’s a bitch
and
life is hard
and if
life gives you lemons
then you must realize that
you only live once
and why don’t we all just
live laugh love
and
live for today
instead of making lemonade
if we could only just
live in the moment
and maybe
live like we’re dying
but not
live like there’s no tomorrow
because in life
tomorrow always comes
and that’s the thing about life
it’s yours
and it’s been proven
that no one gets out of it
alive

My View

March 20, 2014 § Leave a comment

I can’t see very far,
in fact,
I’m almost blind.

But I try to see,
that is, the good.

Am I blind to the reality
of day-by-day-by-day….

Or blind to the bitter
taste of shallow phrase.

I think it’s for the best,
a certain lack of sight,
for the best and most
sparkling views
I see

when I take a sudden breath
awoken from sleep
to eyelids blocking light,
the brightest darkness in the world,
a view that signals life.

Still

February 14, 2014 § 2 Comments

if the world still spins
among an expanse of unknowns
and our blood still flows
through an amazing maze
and gravity still heaves
burying sandy beaches
then why must we remain
still

Until Then.

January 10, 2014 § Leave a comment

If inspiration fails to emerge
how will I ever write beautiful words?
How will I describe this dainty red rose
without the help of a sonnet or prose?
The act of creating a stanza or verse
is impossible, unless you are fully submersed
in creativity, insights, knowledge, and wit,
all of which seems to be just past my grip.
So I leave with you with this short and simple creation
I hope it suffices until I find more inspiration.

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