April 24, 2014 § Leave a comment

How do you break one moment into a million pieces,
disturb the unremitting trail of a speeding train,
and knock it forcefully from its track?

How do you break the monotony
that is daybreak and sunset
and cereal for breakfast, a sandwich for lunch?

How can one dive into a deep pool of passion
while sitting at a desk, gazing into the unforgiving eternity
that is an excel spreadsheet?

How do we become a version of ourselves,
the version that plagues us
quite literally yelling out inside our heads
that we must do more?

Perhaps, the answer is simplistic.
An understatement of grand proportions.
Or innocence? Naivety? Litotes?

Or perhaps it is the only answer that exists,
and we simply have yet to uncover
its true depth.

For the answer is to write a poem.



April 22, 2014 § 1 Comment

There’s something magical
about paper, crisp and new
unmarked and full
of possibility

and there’s nothing
quite so simple but grand
as a brand new pen
with just enough point
with just enough ink

and the artful flick of a wrist
the turn of a finger, a stain emerges
the paper, imperfect, but full
of something personal

full of a meaning
that makes imperfection
into something beautiful

Snowflake Dance

February 24, 2014 § 1 Comment

a single snowflake drifting
who is it to stand
apart from millions
just another white blur
dancing the snowflake waltz
a tiny creation carried
by the wind
but maybe this one
icy crystal will fall
into the outstretched hand
of a child looking up in wonder
at the spiraling snowy dance
hoping to catch
some magic for himself
who is it to stand
apart from millions
but who is it not to

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