Wednesday, August 26, 2015

if the water rises

if the water rises
to blur this morning light from day
close your eyes and wipe 'em dry
tears they will subside

if the water rises
to drown horizons golden glare
watch the ripples as they go
glistening through air

if the water rises
to wipe away your footprints past
know the mountains will erode
as the waves do crash

if the water rises
but you have made your faith a boat
up to heaven you will float
when the water rose

Monday, August 24, 2015


traveling towering time
triples terrors pulse tonight
toiled tiled tongues 

riddled ruthless red rages
ripping raptures ribs at rest
rising racing rush

triples terrors pulse tonight
rising racing rush

Wednesday, August 19, 2015

anything but real

she once told me about how
you can't make a body of a limb
or carve a valley of faded debris,
you can't offer change a rhythmic heartbeat
with a love you have yet to recieve
for all that you are and
all that you wish to be.
and i watched her look at me
and let it be.
two, three...
her elbow sinking deep
into my chest cavity
feeding uncomfortabilty
as i voiced what i once let be,

"i don't ever want to be anything but real."

Saturday, August 15, 2015

scripted ink

i do not want to be someone who writes in pencil, 
someone who walks with their eyes glued to the street 
and tops of strangers feet, i do not want to be someone 
who drifts through the brightest constellations without ever 
greeting a single star. i do not want to be 
someone who forgets to breathe in 
the rythmic presence of a strangers heartbeat.

i want to be someone who speaks in scripted ink 
hollow yet concrete so that the oceans, rivers and valleys echo
 with a voice soaked in sunrise observances; 
the gentle breeze from strangers' eyelashes, cloudy rings around irises.
i want to be someone who when their hands become obsolete, 
rays of stardust from their fingers creases they'll leave.

Saturday, July 25, 2015

all that you are

you are not the seconds, minutes, hours in my head
where you lingered for mornings, evenings, days, months
or whatever to me love hadn't been to you
the love locket ripped from my neck you are not

you are not a skeletal outline
traced over and over in your scrapbook
becoming smaller and smaller every night
you are not an outline of our sky
or whatever to me love hadn't been to you
a single shade of blue you are not

you are not weightless.
on the forest floor your footsteps carry heavily
all that you are.

you are gently carved out pieces from the morning rising sun
you are what makes the trees grow and
whatever to me love is to you could or should be in the growing of the trees
and what makes the wind echo through hollow spaces between each leaf
you are your favorite melodies

you are the many texture of roots, bark,
and all your favorite leaves
sugar maple, birch, oak
growing indefinitely
for you are a tree
growing not even or straight
just however makes trees happy

you are all the pages of your scrapbook left untouched
you are the corners of the sky
you will one day touch

all that you are

Thursday, July 16, 2015

as i do

for a moment
you will get a taste of me
as i once was
to you
running through blackberry fields
our hands touching
as they once touched

but i wonder if you remember
as i do
the rising tension beneath
bare soles of four fleeing feet
crushing souls of the living wheat

on burnt morning toast
a spread of rubus jelly

you will remember
tiny seeds in the spaces
between my teeth
a subtle kiss caught
between our lips

but i wonder if you remember
as i do
our lips
throbbing after evening
rubus tea
as purple as our hearts
loving as they once loved
solely through touch
your fingers cold and rough
creeping down my spine
spreading rubus love
every night
purple running through my veins
i cannot tell if you remember
purple running
through my veins
down my spine
purple stains
beneath my eyes
every night
purple stains
purple stains

and i wonder if you remember
as i do
the color of our
and starless

Sunday, July 12, 2015

to Love

above our sky
i felt it rise
the shadows of our stars
a shrine of time
these light that shine
much brighter than our parts

Monday, July 6, 2015

to be Loved

through pale lit skin
i watched it plunge 
the shadow of her heart
a shallow sun
that rose above
could not endeavour part

Thursday, July 2, 2015

7th avenue

ask me about last night.
i'll tell you.

i'll tell you about 
a fragment of our sky
giving birth to 
threaded sheets of
gently weeping hues

soaring with me 
down 7th avenue

i'll tell you about
 a fragment of our sidewalks edge
beneath silk pointed shoes
every twirl
a pastel blend

soaring with me
down 7th avenue

loose threads and 
simple pirouettes

soaring with me
down 7th avenue

i'll tell you that 
you've soared with me
down 7th avenue

Sunday, June 21, 2015

you will miss people

you will miss people.
you will miss the sound of fusion
between their laughter and yours as
the sound breaks louder than
crashing shells beneath the sea shore and
you will go back to the sea shore
solely in search of this heart warming sound but
all you will find is a cold, solitary shell
turning over and over unto itself and
to rid yourself of such turmoil you will
touch the water to try and remind
yourself of what laughing once felt like.
unfamiliar. cold. numb. you
will ask yourself why you
are incapable of touching
what you once so tangibly felt. you
will ask yourself why. you
will ask yourself why you’re
afraid of your own presence,
lurking on the waters surface you
have become a stranger. you
will tremble in fear as a blur of
circular riptides encompass you
and drift faster and further away from your
ghostly figure. tears will
creep down your
cheeks and fill the silence
beneath the surface of
the sea which will cause the
entire world to erupt with noise and
expand its vast territory. you
will feel infinitesimal. and when you
ask yourself
why it all feels like your fault you
will be sitting on the edge of a
river and you
will not be able to answer for
you are a stranger lost in
a foreign land trembling
on the corner of a
wave you will sit and think how
frightening it is that
we only get a limited amount of
time with people before they’re
gone forever. you
will close your eyes but
still feel the circular riptides
drifting faster and further and
darker and faster and faster and
faster. you
will miss people and
not even realize you’re missing them.
that too is frightening.
write poems, share stories,
bind albums, immerse yourself
in shinning stars, and
find solace in nobody else but
yourself. you
will miss people. and
will be okay.

Friday, April 24, 2015

(xxxii) this particular Silence

Her presence echos
through vacant
hollow sheets
off the metallic bedspread
She springs and leaps

a pale lit face
the way a voice
can't breath
beneath the sewers
of city streets

cold barren floorboards
support this stranger
as Her hips grow wider
a pumpkin carved figure

within the creaking
beneath her feet
and subtle flicker
in Her eyes
casting shadows
sunken and dry

i find
a stranger
lurking beneath
breathless doors

Monday, April 20, 2015

(XXIX) Time Is But A Flavor

Time is but a flavor
Colorful to the young
Gently dissipating colors
Gnawing beneath our tongues
Burning through our lungs
Its ashes we soon become

And if thereafter
I lived alongside Time forever

I'd stop
And wonder
Why we've tried
So hard to savor
Such a tasteless, bloody Murderer

Saturday, April 11, 2015

(XXVI) Where Heaven Touches Earth

I walk on this horizon
Who to the sun gives birth
While morning churchbells ring
All the doves awake

Who to the sun gives birth
Where heaven touches earth
All the doves awake
Every day, on their way

Where heaven touches earth
While morning churchbells ring
Every day, on their way

Friday, April 3, 2015

(XXV) A Giving Tree

I offered a Lady
A teaspoon of happy
A cup of happy 
She returned to me 

Generosity seems 
Immeasurable to
Such a 
tiny seed

Bury the seed
And time will see
Tangible roots

Of A Giving Tree

Tuesday, March 24, 2015

(XXIV) Observe

Observing a lady
And her mother
The fourth daughter
And their sinister sister.

Do they know each other?

Legs parallel and crossed
24 stops

Frail limbs and coherent hips
Every tunnel the same width

Hidden ribs adjacent and stiff
Silent on the edge of the same cliff

Metal jaws  
Rambunctiously chomp
On stories of elasticity
Rubber on wheels
Once used
To carry us silently
Between stops

I quietly watch
4 metals jaws
Like the screaming wheels
Beneath this train car

Such screeching doesn't get us far.
A violent halt
25 stops.

And I wonder if they know each other?

Sunday, March 22, 2015

Friday, March 20, 2015

(XXII) My Sky, Your Sky

Your sky, my sky
His hand in yours in mine
Connective tissues
Infinitely unified

Round in circles
Too many times
Humans go blind

Disenthralled hands
The way circles bend
Into lines 
Back and forth we pace
A million times

This is what happens
When clouds collide;
Hidden and
Fragmented skies

Yours seperate from mine

Imprisoned and blind
All seems to be
An illusion if the mind

Still under
The same sky
Yours and mine

Thursday, March 19, 2015

(XXI) Paralyzed

I cringe at the sound
Of my vertebrates
Forcefully zipping
Up my spine
Day by day gradually
Such tension
As loud as the
Incessant hammering
Of multitudinous
Metal nails
Through frail
Rattling bones 

Yet still
I cringe at bundles of tension
Within this silence
As heavy as metal nails
As loud as the sound
Of metal on rails
Beneath the schreeching
Wheels of this train car

Stuck in this tunnel
Isolated in the dark



Tuesday, March 17, 2015

(XX) We Feel Infinite

What better fortune and infinitude?
Than these breath taking views
Endless miles o'er
Multitudinous mountains of
Momentous smiles

What better sail?
Than the thrust of our wings
Boundlessly propelled by the winds
Vehemently soaring
While at each summet
Questioning our fate

What better landscape?
Than the clouds luminous sun rays
Spray painted within
This empty frame
Full of space

We feel infinite

Monday, March 16, 2015

(XIX) Courage

No voice can breathe
The tender emnity
Of colliding words
Hidden beneath
Fighting to speak
Scarred thoughts cut deep
Through the human necks
Tenuous sheath

A violent heart
Will never beat
Within a body
Labeled this weak

The blade of your heart
Is but an illusion of the mind
No baby is born
With a heart as a knife

Assurance is key.

The heart needs a beat
To find the courage to breathe

A voice doesn't speak
While weaving its sheath

The courage to speak.

Wednesday, March 11, 2015

(XVII) Craters Of The Moon

The craters of the moon—
Through my eyes 
Like the pores in my skin

Such a hollow simile
Eliminating wastes
As empty as the vastness
Between each rib
Within living corpses

A simile
As vacant as the distance
From space to reality

Living and immortality

Each crater of the moon
Holds on tightly
To their own truths

From a distance
An immeasurable silence

Listening has forgotten
Thus its breathing
One cannot fathom into

Saturday, March 7, 2015

(XVI) I Have Yet To See

I hear distinctly
The solubility of my feet
Catching up to me

Like faint whispers of
Threaded thoughts
Sealed within the
Transparency of
Shattered jars 

Little things remind me

Of who I am to be;
Of the solubilty of my feet
I have yet to see
In front of me
Turn concrete


Roots of the
Giving Tree
Implanted to the road
Less traveled

Thursday, March 5, 2015

(XV) Sun

Infinite illuminations
Eminate solar radiation

Such luminous rays
I've yet to fathom

Wednesday, March 4, 2015

(XIV) Barren

Strip the finite armor off the victim
A barren field he will become.
Putrefied shreds of flesh
Not nearly as infinitesimal
As you
And the thousand other
Malignant men.

Tuesday, March 3, 2015

(XIII) Your Lines Keep Me Up All Night

You can tell a lot about a person
Within the lines they try to hide
Beneath their eyes
And on their thighs.
And the funny thing is
There's no telling why
One decides to hide
Such apparent lines
Deeply coherent to their lives
And I find it kind of funny
How subconsciously
I've began to try to define
Your lines
But If I told you
You'd surely respond with,
"That's not right!"
Would it frighten you
Less at night
And perhaps seem a bit divine
If I told you
I'm just
Trying to figure out how
Connect with

Monday, March 2, 2015

(XII) Lines

Certain lines 
Lay side by side
Coherent to our lives

Such as the
Subsequent accumulation 
Of made up lines;
A bundle 
Of barbaric wires
Hidden blindly in coat pockets
Locked in rib cages

Such as the wrinkles
In my grandmothers face
Collecting bright stardust 
Throughout her age

Such as certain slants of light—
Infinite rays of sunshine
Placed in our pockets
Locked in our rib cages
Such as the cracks 
Between the tiles
Of our mosaics

Certain lines 
Lay side by side
Coherent to our lives
But we don't know why

Such as the line I drew 
Last night
Between your ordinary 
And mine
Laying silently 
Between us


Sunday, March 1, 2015

(XI) Brightest Dear Friend

Brightest dear friend,

I don't think it's safe
To drift amiss shooting stars
Aiming at your silicone heart

Like meteoroids
Timelessly thrown
Crushing every bone
As all your words
I hear begin to foam

I don't think it's safe
To live your life
At the center of any halo

Saturday, February 28, 2015

(X) Circles

I spend my nights
In circles
Calculating the circumference
Of life

I have fingers as compasses 
And knuckles as fine knobs of adjustment
A metallic point at my pupil;
The circumcenter of any circle

I’ve calculated 
The distance from
The center of a blue whirlpool
To its overly saturated borders
Naming the circumference 

There are bigger circles too
Like those of orbiting planets
Which, according to scientists, 
Revolve around the sun.
But my hands have proven otherwise
Rapidly spinning counter clockwise

my dear friend

did you really think

your calculations

would lead you to

the center of something

as opaque

and undefined

as space?

Friday, February 27, 2015

(IX) Perception

Nothing but
Shadows whom descend 
Before reaching any sort of end
The way the speed of sound 
Melts and bends


Subconscious quest

In  which the color white
Within our sight
Held up to the light
Projects infinite color slides
Fragmented spectrums
Of warped thoughts 
Intertwined in our minds

But these tidal waves I kind of like
Eternally unravelling 
The magic within the speed of light

Thursday, February 26, 2015

(VIII) Shooting St(on)ar(e)s

If every pebble was a planet
And every stone a star

Would you then take these things for granted?
Would you watch them from afar?
Or collect them in a jar?
Would we feel less infinitesimal?
Or like the dark at all?
For now I think
I prefer to wish on
Shooting stones

At least I know
Where they go

So I know where to find them
When I grow old

Wednesday, February 25, 2015

(VII) If I Told You

If I told you
The sky was an ocean 
Would you look up 
At your reflection?

If I told you
The sun has roots
And illuminates from underground
Would you have the courage to look down? 

Tuesday, February 24, 2015

(VI) Mosaics Within

Our mosaics
Fascinate me
Hidden stain glass pieces 
Intrigue me

Like our bones
When we’re afraid
The ways in which they shake.

Hands, for instance.
A mild turbulence.
Every knuckle 
A mountain
Overlapping plateaus 
Severe earthquakes
In an overly populated space.
Evacuation is
No such thing

Where blood is unable to flow, 
Cuticles will never grow.

Why don’t knuckles let go?

Shaking accumulates
Knuckles unable
To join rattling bones
Listen to their sounds
Of fusion

One day these bones will 
From being so 

Of our own mosaics.

Monday, February 23, 2015

Sunday, February 22, 2015

(IV) Connect Us Through the Light

Our thoughts
A wall
Of fragmented bricks
Cohesive and crisp
Like stiff matches

Distinctly divised
By a grid of grays
A sediment time abides
Made of sand once crucified

Connect us through the light

Before attrition
Within such weathered friction
Blends the bricks
And cohesive tips
Into such a timely grid

Sediment is not to blame
For a story within she doth attain

A story as deep
The sand beneath
The roaring, crashing tide

For years alone
Never exposed
To such abundant light

For she is not
And never was despised

Only time
Do I abide

Connect us through the light.

Friday, February 20, 2015

(II) The Power of a Fiery Fire

A strand of thread
I found amiss
One lonely missing stitch

Your cordial visage
I caught a glimpse
I promise you I did

To which I placed such tender tin
Near by the fiery fire

A crimson plaid it did sustain
The silver of the tin

Thursday, February 19, 2015

(I) Tell Me

I'm not interested in what you do for a living
I want to know what makes you strive
What is it that motivates you to be alive
And do more than just merely survive
What is it that makes you thrive

So first 
Tell Me what makes you human
Tell Me about the ways in which you breathe
And what goes on in your mind in-between each beat
Tell Me what goes on in your veins and pulmonary arteries
Tell Me about the times your heart has stopped and trembled and rushed

Tell Me about love

I’m not interested in the number of breakups 
Don’t tell me the number of dates you’ve been on
Who you’d hit up with or “tap dat ass with”
Don’t list subsequent future ideologies 
Instead tell Me about the times you’ve knelt down to lend a human hand 
To an infant, to the poor, to an elderly, 
I want to know about the ordinary
Not some sort of Disney love story

I do, however, want to know about your dreams and fantasies
Don’t tell me about adversity’s holding you back
Instead I want to know how you keep yourself on track
The ways in which you perceive reality
How willing are you to achieve?

I want to know what makes your heart ache
But don't tell me about how it was all the other persons mistake
And certainly don’t tell me the number of times you’ve dwelled in this kind of pain
Or the number of burns you’ve tried to degrade
Instead I want to know about your faith
How you’ve stood in front of a burning fire
Unsure if you were going to survive 
Don’t tell me about the blinding brightness
Instead I want you to tell me about the reticent feeling of forgiveness
Even if it's the other persons burning mistake
Tell Me about this humble, content feeling within

Tell Me about your own company
How it feels just to be—

Tell Me about all the times you've been brave enough to be alone 
But not lonely
Tell Me about how you love yourself so much
That you enjoy your own company
Tell Me about the last time you’ve made yourself laugh
The last time you've made yourself cry
The last time you've made yourself happy
Tell Me about the first time you’ve stood naked infront of your mirror
And said “i love you”

Tell Me about peace
Don’t tell me about how you wish war didn’t exist
Don’t tell me you hope the world will one day be at peace
I want to know about your inner peace
I want you to tell me about your insecurities
Those demons inside you that act as misanthropies 

I want you to tell me how hard you've fought

I want you to believe

In ordinary love 
That should not feel less than

I want you to believe

In people

In less human, more being

I want you to trust that the only reason we're surviving

Is because the spark of fire within us
is burning brighter than the fire around us