seasonal

December 4, 2014 § 1 Comment

when it’s dark
too early, and I’m driving home from work
my headlights guiding my car’s path
I always wish for spring
but suddenly I worry
that when spring arrives
and it rains
too much, and I’m driving home from work
my wipers guiding my car’s path
I will always wish for fall

mantra

December 4, 2014 § 1 Comment

“you are powerful beyond measure”

my yoga teacher whispered into our expanse of sweaty bodies, all twisted and teetering and balancing on a single leg that had gone numb minutes ago

“you have a special light that shines”

she proclaimed as we bent and twisted and tried to breathe like darth vader while emptying our minds and simultaneously channeling inner peace and oneness with the earth

“you are enough”

we inhaled, we exhaled
and somehow, we believed her

Reminder

November 13, 2014 § Leave a comment

Sometimes I feel the weight of everything directly upon me,
but I mean, in a good way.

Not in a way that suppresses or brings anxiety aloft.
In a way that frees.

When I’m driving at night and the streets are full of cars
but everyone is reduced to two lights
and I ask myself where I’m truly going
and the stars form a welcome blanket overhead
guiding me and everyone, all of our lights,
along our individual journeys, I feel it.

And it suddenly becomes so apparent
that our individual journeys
are so far from that.

The depth of this huge, gigantic world rests
upon all of us, peacefully and meaningfully.
It grasps onto our shoulders,
and urges us not to forget that it’s there.

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

our motion

October 15, 2014 § Leave a comment

like the gentle cracks on the walls
of my one hundred year home,
stillness won’t stop age.

it may bring years of observation
but what is observation

without subsequent
conversation
exploration
jubilation

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.

blank

July 18, 2014 § 2 Comments

possibility
is an empty page just waiting
for meaning to fill it

the words end

July 16, 2014 § 1 Comment

where all of it
is music
is my favorite place to be

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