into the sea
November 8, 2015 § Leave a comment
it’s a pull that feels like the tide
rushing backward into the sea, so quickly
that the seashell you reached for was overcome
by its grip and pulled with the foam
the sand and the brush, slipping
from your fingers backwards
into the sea
Uncommon Sense
February 15, 2014 § Leave a comment
What is it that holds you
back, from reaching
the always-sought after
ever bewitching
slipping through fingers
personal Utopia
place, where
you’re meant to be?
If it was doubt, you would not
have ever dreamed of this
place, to begin with
If it was fear, you may not
have even made it to this
point, a remarkable feat of courage
If it was ignorance, you could not
have seen this place so clearly
detailed and superb
resting at a peak
If not these, then what?
The most dangerous barricade we face
may just be none other than
practicality.
If Only
February 11, 2014 § 4 Comments
If only I could write poems all day
fill my life with shaping words like clay
I would stare through windows concocting rhyme
If I could only write poems until the end of my time
If only I could paint murals from Finland to Spain
spreading my paintbrush across imperfect terrain
I would cover the ground, the hills, and the sky
If I could only paint murals for the wandering eye
If only I could bask in the sun without end
never shadowed by coolness, nor see darkness ascend
I would swing from the sun beams and swallow the light
If only the world was forever resplendent and bright
If only, if only, the wishers do say
forgetting to love the wondrous day
and if wishes and dreams are within a life’s scope
then cast doubt aside and embrace faithful hope
rosepoems 