I’ve been holding on tightly for dear
holding on tightly for fear of what’s next,
holding on tight as I can,
I g-Read More »
You may remember my poem by the title of, “With the Victimized, White, Upper-Middle Class Male”. The title alludes to one man’s self identification, and the body holds one girl’s sentiments in response to that man’s action.
The general phenomenon exists outside of all these particularities, however, and I’ve finally addressed the phenomenon itself in essay rather than art. While I’ve wanted to share my opinion, Facebook has seemed too relational a platform for the impersonal natures of the poem and essay, neither of which are meant to “be about” specific people, interactions, or relationships.
So now, pardon my prose.Read More »
The sands of time are falling,
and the weaver, she is calling
us to this quilt she’s sewn sublime,
and I’m trying to step in time.
The hands of time keep ticking,
and I’m finding myself wishing
that I could just slow it down,
or at least keep you around.
I will hold the hands of time
if you will hold mine,Read More »
The light of moon cascading down
illuminates the night.
An unexplored and tempting scene
awaits my taking flight.
It calls to me.
By morning, tired and less pristine,Read More »
A dreary city
A darkened sky
Gray pastel wind
Clear sheets of rain
Too thick to see
Her umbrella tipped
His shuffling feetRead More »
The past few days,
walking and sitting fill me with an ache
that insists there’s something quite wrong
with my walking and sitting when they’re not done by your side
in comfortable conversation.
It’s the kind of ache that makes me want to steal your pots, Read More »
Please exist forever, Darling-
I know you will.
…Do it near.
Read More »
Your lips push your cheeks up,
pull your spine with.
Three seats and aisle, mere sign of the divide-Read More »
Child of the dark, given a magic prayer and some commands,
who picked up confusion, legalism on the way,
trying not to doubt their magical prayer,
wondering why it won’t prompt the ways they said you’d change.
Afraid to trust, forbidden to not,
unsafe on either plane,
child of fear’s of hopelessness, and as such, of shame.Read More »
Diplomacy! Wicked gift!
I want to know if Imagined Me has started being perfect yet-
Your little pet that I should really care less about, for she is not mine.
I do inform, like that’s a boundary.Read More »