December 29, 2010

she danced

he stitched together
a fire
inside her
the colors
of her heart
and she danced
sky clad
giving herself
to the moon
meadow's scent
luring him closer
and she danced
in dimly lit night
with the moon
and she danced
to make it rain
she got
the moon
to shower her
with love
and star dust
and she laid back
looking at the sky
to count stars
as the moon
kissed her lips

December 27, 2010


My fingers
You imagine
Dragging across your skin
These lips against yours
Exchanged breath
Slow mingling of thought
Braiding of limbs
All my words
Steeped in Love
Dredged up
From a churning sea
Filling your vacant spots
Left by sirens
Like a drug
Melting you
Forging you
Into something
Giving you strength
To move on
Passing through me
Practice poet
Gateway to a horizon
Not mine
In a slow burn

December 23, 2010

without words

I still have your birthday gift
The jellyfish across my wall
The paint is dry, the gloss shines
You're still with me, you know
In the back of my mind
Seeing you in motion, I know you
I should exorcise that demon
But this is my long haul
Still without a word to share
I put them in a box for you
You, who knows me best
Maybe you can open it later
When I give you your birthday gift

December 20, 2010

reluctant invisibility

My invisibility
Is apparent

Knots in wood
Eddies in churned waters
Blacks in eyes

Voyeuristic tendencies
Watching life
From cornered shadows

I was a silhouette
Before broken hearts
Scarred skin
And sleepless nights

Raging fires
Drop forests
Ashen landscapes
Footprints like snow
Even the Phoenix is gone

Raging fires
Steam out oceans
Flapping sea life
Gasped asphyxiation
Even Neptune left

Raging fires
Blinding me
Photo realistic images
Plastered the darkness
Even I can't see

Widening irises
Stored in back pockets
In invisible
Stolen daylight

December 18, 2010

the sun

Opened up
Time and again
The glare of the sun
Melts me in
Hot light
This skin
Scarred and bruised
I keep going
Footprints behind
Prove to me
I'm still moving
Into night
Solitude of dark
Growing shadows
Keep me company
Dancing words
Across my graves
I'll venture into
The sun
When I'm strong

December 13, 2010


I couldn't help
But to fall
Into your unknown
Your every word
A swung mattox
Chipping back
Castle walls
How were you to know
Bricks tumbled
Splashing into an ocean
No longer mine
You say
Space and intensity
To blame
I say
Rose petal fragility
Is my terrible weakness
In your unknown
Grasping at words
Syllable and meaning
Separating letters
I look for me
In you
How are you to know
I tell you too much
Not enough
Looking for just right
You say
I'm in there
With the rest
I say
I like you, I'm
Cracked open like an egg
I'm standing in
A black hole
Nearly lost
Timeless pressures
Swallowed with the
Everything of you
Spinning in shined
Brilliance of you
Flesh and bone
Beautiful flaws
I know you're not
Just bindings and words
Crushed pulp and ink
You are
The warmth of sun
Danced twilight through trees
I am
One of many
Holding a candle [out] to you

old rusted armor

Each piece of armor
Slow succession
Schlepping backwards
Metal dragged
Behind me
This arduous task
Over the shoulder
Chest plate
Why did I take this off?
The helmet
Particularly heavy
In this rain
Legs and feet
Not even polished
Old rusted armor
I stripped this tin
Thinking my heart
Would be okay
This time
Tossing the cage
To wind
Almost blowing away
Clanging of my dressing
Wakes the neighbors
Can't heartbreak
Ever be silent

December 8, 2010

my misunderstanding

I misunderstood you,
I thought you said...
Life's too short
To feel like this
To feel
It's the everything
And nothing
I solicit
With all the words
Cast to distance
Like star light
I'm left
In this well
Each grappled toss
Revealing more
Unbearable feelings
My field is vast
Feet buried
Seeing through weeds
Too far away
My heart
Stuck on one beat
Then two
Fills my head
By sunlight
My gray light
Finds its place
Touching time and tide
I act out
As me
Hoping that's enough
To hold on
To what is there
...I misunderstood,
I just keep saying stuff

December 2, 2010

I am art

Sweep Dry
Wet canvas
Color spike
Remote Prosperity
Local depravity
Chipped stone
Finds form
In striation
The stab of grief
All for display
For unknown masses

November 29, 2010


Drifted passion
Settles into silks
The waves
Of timeless silence
Breath holds
Our truth
Touched skin
Sweetly stuck
Shared glances
In forever eyes
You give me
Pieces of your heart
Wrapped in gold
And dreams
Want for nothing more
My whispered warmth
Tells you

November 25, 2010


Fall of night
Godless charcoal gray
Silhouettes against
The flick of guardian light
Gingered steps of small beasts
Window side
The sound of sleep
Through nature's door
Blurring scapes
Fuzzing pillowed cotton
To visions of you
The sun keeps me warm
Fire wrapped
Spanish horizon
Each word in my ear
Tongue licked
Each finger on my skin
Tongue licked
Sacred shadows
Bury deep inside me
Timeless sky
Thrust under skin
I see with eyes closed
From saints
And tines
His royal lineage
Bared apparent
From jester to joker
He makes me laugh
Every shattered silence
Filled with the each of us
Our remote island
Of unconditionality
From core's depth
We blend slow

November 21, 2010

I'd call you...

Out of blue night
Star shined
In daylight
With a winking
Glimmered echo
Of golden heat
I'd call you the sun
You reflect
Each smiling beam
From the moon and back
On gentle waves
Of a salted sea
Almost completely closed off
By earth
From my half sky
You tap the panes
Of glass
Feet from my bed
Soft fingertips
There and gone again
I'd call you the rain
Opened window
Warm wet skin licked
Dusted drought
To a forest stream
From the sky
Smooth of rose petals
Velvet blanket
In mid autumn
Nocturnal eyes
Refracting every word
To intimate artistry
I'd call you the night
Wrapped warmth
Under my skin
To burst
Timeless affection
Lifts me
Every moment of you
Inspiring day

November 13, 2010


Scribbled words on the wall
Sad graffiti
My life story
Looked at
They wander away
To the next wall
And to the next
Nothing special
They say
Run of the mill
Dream factory
They brood
I'm entertainment
In passing
Then dropped
Like a child's game
Plucked flowers
Cracked dry to unspecialness
These words
Droop with the same old
Same old

November 10, 2010

deep glow of blue

No one sees
I hold it well
Something in my eyes
Trying to leave me
Letting go
Universe hid
Explained away
Red puffy skin
Deep glow of blue
Nothing of time

November 4, 2010

if i saw you today

If I saw you today
Could I hold you in the shattering moments of time
Arms wrapped around skin I've held so tightly in nihilistic conception
My heart rises to my throat as I inhale you at your neck
Eyes close and the universe stills itself
Stopping for eternity as we become a single moment in the fog of millions
Kissing your cheek
Your head turns and your lips meet mine with passion's introduction
Positioned eyes open right now
And always
If I saw you today
Time would stop
And I would follow your skin to the letter

hurly burly

Stretched rib cage
Curdled fat
Beneath the wrinkles
Of decades
With searing optical zoom
Gut ripped
From cunt
To vocal cords
Split open
To see what's inside
My heart beats
Words and love
Through tired veins
Useless organs
Squirming in thought
Holding on to you
Each piece of me
A sponge of simile
Died red
The purr
Of knowing
So lost
In the death of night
I can barely hear you breathe
On the moon
As the moon
I'm opened
You watch from the sky
The alone
Of this muted hurly burly
Un bear able
As scalpel's edge
Through thin skin

November 3, 2010

star cluttered

The death of me
This wasting away
Six months making
Here I lie
Cliff dove
Waterless bottom smashed
Police tape crossed
Seeing sky
I can hardly breathe
Self-induced bubble skin
Up and down
With desperate breaths
In stewed broken promises
Waiting for word
The Fuck Off
The I Miss You
I die
Every night
Every morning
Knowing what I do
The right and wrong of it
I do
Blinded by night sky
Cluttered with stars
There is a moon back there
Lost messengers
Tear carmelized papers
Letters fall to dirt
Mixing with earth
And I die
All over again

October 24, 2010

dream of death

His death dream
Feeling lost
In hidden secrets
His chest bleeds
Salted tide rising through
Beached sand
Gulls open his skin
He dreams of us
We sleep
The washed white shore
Sky turns orange
Moon turns gray
Our bodies melt
With the setting sun
Salt water
Drawing us down
Tunnel sought
Light locked
Blood still runs
On the still white
Day passed to
New moon night
Forever in the palm of his hands
In death
He forgets me
Hiding his knife
With his secrets
His caged dragon
Stolen scales
Heated with fire
He walks
Looking for me
He won't call out to me
I'm unknown
His dream of death

October 20, 2010


Blood on my hands
won't wash away
Palm pooled
I run my fingers
through hair untangled

Slow motion
Of present time
pulses in dehydrated
No intravenous speed

Slicked back
Congealed red
The crimson
Of my mistakes

October 14, 2010

psychology of losing

I'm tired
I can't tell you
How I feel

These words
In artistry
In reason

I'm tired
Of digging
For the right words
Only to sound
Or needy
Or desperate
Or just wrong

I'm tired
Of exploring
The depths
Of caverns
And canyons
Until you

And you
Are no longer here

But the words
These words
Continue on
Looking for
Their meaning
My meaning
Waiting for
Some grand reward
That doesn't exist

This is still
Not right
What I write

My tired search
For accurate
Of what's inside

October 13, 2010


Like fractals
Endless fall
Into the same
Squares and circles
Repeated patterns
Since childhood

Same skin
Stretched thin
Wear and tear
And razor blade
Shaped like glass
Sharp crescent moons
Touching blood

My eyes
Squeezed closed
Circling insects
In rainbow patterns
Black shadowed
You touch me
My open eyes

October 10, 2010

steel moon


The fog rolled in
Stars and sky
The moon
Feels lost to me

I burn like
The sun
In this dark
Of night
Wanting to drown
The soft glow
Of moonbeams
And suicide

Cheated reality
Pond cast
With frail line
Apart the light
Falls falling
Reach reaching
A single finger
For more distance
To touch the moon
That isn't there

But he is
In all
His human form
Whole of feeling
Rimmed with
Steel and pain
I wish I could
Melt away
With the touch of my hand

October 6, 2010

3 poems

whisky soaked words
in a tall glass

lying naked
in a field of dandelions
one gentle blow
and I am reborn

the struggle of the fly
is lost
on the spider

Poems are published in issue #95 of
Bear Creek Haiku

October 4, 2010

art of communication

Where am I left
Without my tongue
Pink meat slab
Behind glass
Sliced paper thin
With a butcher's knife
Green transacted
Bumpy taste buds
Dulled to death
Communion with strangers
Weighted hands
With all my words
My air breathing
Mouth saliva
Blood filled
Struggled grunts
No soft kisses
Or gentle
Braided entanglement
And biting
Surrounded by dry lips
Wet teeth
Down clenched throat
In angry contempt
Of tongueless

October 3, 2010

over stayed welcome

Sitting here
Staring at all the words
Written on the wall
None are mine
My fingertips
Claw down the plaster
Nails on a chalkboard
Feeling the meaning
Of other people's pain
Drawn in
Sketched out
Beat through my chest
Feet welded to asphalt
Unable to move
I fall into this
Bottomless pit
Of vicarious empathy
Red hair pasted
To cheeks with tears
I want to give
Myself away
To help make the words
Releasing sensitivity
But I'm afraid
I've over stayed
My welcome

October 2, 2010

metal & flesh

Molten steel
Arc of
Elecricity jumps
Igniting sparks
Like stars
Hotter than the sun
Joining together
The unfamiliar into
Slow moving
White fire
Back and forth
Burning friction
Our mutual combustion
All that's left
Is cinders
And slag

Ripe peach
Soft texture
Between your lips
Sweet nectar
From your chin
Luscious tongue
Divine flesh
Until the peach
Has come
And gone

September 30, 2010


This bowl
Of words
Tossed about
Like bingo balls
Blue haired
Hoping for
The right one
The winning words
That spell out
The meaning
That frame
The undone
That celebrate
The you
The me
The us
In this lonely little world
I want
The right words
To give to you
To blot out
With your
Giant red marker

September 27, 2010

my love as the wind

From mountaintops
Snow caps to clouds
Flying under wings
Through talons
Speaking air's language
Touching the rays of sun
Beams of moon
Light of stars
Darkness of naught
Hot or cold
Rolling over wild vistas
Through tree covered valleys
With a bird's eye view
Gently pushing the tops
Of green crowns
My breath
Over and under
Branches and leaves
Caressing wild beasts
As they go about their business
Into the echo
Of dry canyons
Painted red boulders
Desert dry heat
Kicking up dust
Smoothing the white caps
Of rough seas
Plunging past seaweed and fish
In the deep end
Of blue water
Shouted from soap boxes
Sandwich boards
And bus stop miscreants
On urban
Street corners
Mixed in the din
Of noisy dirty night clubs
Sticky table bottoms
Sweaty strangers
Bathed in neon
Whispered from my lips
To your ear
In quiet naked moments
Out of breath
And with full lungs
Anywhere everywhere
Wanting to tell you
Into the empty cup of no return
I love you

September 26, 2010

excerpt of something bigger

A thousand times over
Buried deep in the sands
The hottest deserts
Under pyramids
In the foundations of nomads
I am the earth
Bubbling up to meet you
Each grain
My degree of feeling
And knowing
You will always
Not be mine
Grains in the hourglass
Ticking away time
To the next life
And the next
You will always
Not be mine
Separated by lives
Meant to be lived
Feeling separately
To core
To marrow
To the dawn of existence
Blanketed by stars in the sky
I will live happily
This burden
A smile
Joy in my heart
If you could find
Happiness you wholly need
And deserve
Making you peace
Silenced of ghosts and demons
Taking them
To twist and torment
My skin
Crumbled to sand
Leaving yours
Lit by stars and moonlight
I want to hold your face
Look into blue
Taking your pain
You are made of stardust
Particles as you are
I love you like my best friend
I love you
You will always
Not be mine

different love

Filled to capacity
Fast enough beats
I'm pulled
To curl around you
In your watchtower
Wanting to give
Sleepy-eyed contentment
Of a cat
My heart breaks
Not for me

September 21, 2010

green bottles

Bullet shattered bottle
I hate this feeling
Tiny shards spray
In dust
I am the nothingness
That consumes me
Boot crushed
History layered
Target practice
Being one with myself
Is not
Adding up
Dust panned together
For another
Shattered green bottle


A few inches from the edge
Then you

I'm going to throw in the towel
Then you

Just when I want to give up
Then you

There's nothing from you
Then you

To pull me in {back}
To keep me sane {quiet}
To hold me here {here}
To let me to choose {the unchoosable}

binary love


binary love (translated)

I have to tell you
I love you
How can I feel like this
And not love you
I know you
I know your love
Is somewhere else
But every word
From you
Breaks me
A little more
I know
You know
I love you
But it bounces
Within me
Like a beach ball


It doesn't matter
What I write
You read
What you want
To read

September 20, 2010


My puzzled box
My work of art
When it shouldn't

My chambered heart
My uncloaked silhouette
The it away

My rationalization
My left sided mind
Run far from it

My emotion
My love
Every last word of it

My never ending
My ending never
Holding its ground

September 19, 2010

sunshine of her love

She scribbled out a note
Lined yellow legal paper
Her signature a rusty blue
Under the salt and pepper shakers
Polished kitchen table

They met in the alley
Behind the gas station
Rotting trash darkness
"How do you want it?"
He asked

"I don't care," came confidently
From between her teeth
"Just don't kill me."
He grabbed her arm
Squeezed and pulled

Flickering neon-washed motel
Corner sales to get high
Bass thumped her chest
From parking lot vultures
He already had a key

Worn rug brown
Cracked sink in the room
"Hang on," he slurred
Tossing her aside
The bedspread was wet

He crossed the room
Turning on the lamp
Light switch hole by the door
Beige and green wallpaper
Breathe decade's old fumes

She opened the window
Letting in the sound
Of outside
Silencing any intimacies
That might escape

"Take them off"
He said picking at her blouse
She did
One layer at a time
Bloodshot eyes

She noticed a bleach bottle
In the corner
Bent over, taking her shoes off
Heel to toe
Feet from Gideon's Bible

Cash placed on the night stand
Bundled of green
"What we agreed," she said
He nodded his long crusted face
Moving in

She slid in
Stiff cold sheets
Laid on her side
Window faced, pillow bound
Her eyes closed

His feet came around the bed
Dropped mattress with his weight
She hears the slide of metal
Long like nails on a chalkboard
And he inhales her last breath

September 18, 2010

new flight

On pasted hide
Shooting stars
Night's skylight

Light lingered
Milled to dust
Endless orbit
From fingertips breath
To transparent space
Burning to earth

I am made of stars
Stream grounded
By ceremony
Trance-like ritual
Crater held
Like a bowl of cherries

Wind swept skin
Exhaling lungs
Blow me to horizons
Untouched by silver star dust
Mixed with life unexpected
Given new flight

September 16, 2010

my people

My morning face
Steamed mirror echoed
Touching skin
Wanting to hide
What I see

Hot breath
Blurs my likeness
Numbing obscurity
Into the world
Eyeless recognition

Quiet motion and
Deafening spectacles
Of people
In their own space

Anonymous feet
Plugged in
Bumper cars
Without laughter

Hand holding
Smiling facades
Reflect the sun
Veiling ripened plagues

From the womb
To another black hole
Societal suffocation
And without

September 14, 2010


Read measurements
In finger widths
Leveled horizon
To galaxy's soft center

Aged by hand
From backhand
To closed fist
And many shades of blue

Veiled patterns
Create unseen scars
With aged fermentation
Wine soaked disappointment

Sunset rides west
As I turn gray
Skin's touchstone
Bludgeoned to compliance

September 12, 2010

blueberry patch

Waking in a dream
My hands lie in the
Chill of blueberry leaves
Hillside in brief dusk
Staring at a sky that once
Held me close

I'm marked in silence
Heartbeats between my ears
Native tracker
Listening to the stampede
Of oncoming horses

Sweet smell of blue
Is sickening
If I didn't know what it was
I'd smell the fruits of fall
Or tender love against my skin
I know what it is

Trampling hooves
Ever closer
I fell in love
Windswept hyperbole
Steamed nostrils
Of equine exhaustion

Raping myself
With words, over and over
Plunged into used eye sockets
Red and green
Blur to an ugly yellow
I didn't heed

Here I am
Watching the sky and sea
Foreign landscapes
Touch each other
I collect the rain
Not the sun

I can't look away
Each glance
A thrusting stab into
Newly formed muscle
Decapitating every thought

All the backwards things
--The absolutes
--Erased by maybe
The flickering light
That was never extinguished

I've never felt this love before
I love this love
I love him
But I have to let it go
Because he doesn't love me

Rising from the patch
Crawling to the path
To my feet
Ice cold wind thumps my shoulders
Blueberries on my fingers
Red streaks on my swollen gullible face

I want to look back
I want to look back
I want to look back

September 10, 2010

this haunted past

Full-bodied apparition
Screaming across rooms
Wasting space in
Splintered wood
Pitched knots
Eat time

Transparent mists tangle
Opaque shadows
Watched by silhouettes
Sucked out of mud

Flickering flames
Out of nowhere
In murdered darkness
Stretched necks
And slippery red floors

This haunted past
Is my presently lived
One disembodied moan
At a time

September 9, 2010

irish hymn (him)

Taobh istigh de phulsanna sé dom
Cosúil le fuil i doimhneachtaí te
Éirí Amach do gaile
Smaointe ag imeacht

Smaoineamh ar gorm
deireadh domhain ar uiscí
Bíonn sé mo anáil
Feiceann sé dom lé

Fillte i scamaill
Atá suite i féir
blúmáin fómharaíochta
Is tú mo ghrá

Na focail ciúin labhraíonn sé
Cosain dom ó pian
Braithim mé cheana
Labhraíonn sé léi agus bhfaighidh mé bás

Tá súil Shealbhaíochta
I dtearmann mo lámh
Fásann an tine beag
Ó mo chéadfaí dona féin

Timfhilleadh mo chraiceann ina
Análaithe isteach chugam
Agus mé i mo chónaí
Is tú mo ghrá

Díol dom
Chun teacht ar choimeád sa
's sé go hálainn
Cosúil le réaltaí an ghealach

Bá ina farraige de spás
dtiocfaidh sé mo réaltacht
Ata craiceann a ionsú
Tá tú i mo fola

Teaghráin strung thart ar mo sciatháin
Bunaithe ar a chuid dromchla
Tá sé mo eitilte
Is breá liom tú fós

irish hymn (him)

Inside me he pulses
Like blood in hot depths
Rising to steam
Of disappearing thoughts

Contemplating blue
Deep end of bottomless waters
He takes my breath
Seeing me skyclad

Wrapped in clouds
Lying in grasses
Harvesting blooms
I love him

The stillness of his words
Protect me from pain
I already feel
He speaks to her and I die

Holding hope
In the palm of my hand
A tiny fire nurtured
From my own wet depravity

I wrap my skin in him
Breathing warmth into me
And I live
I love him

Selling myself
To keep him in reach
Beautiful him
Like stars to the moon

Drowning in his sea of space
He's become my reality
Swollen absorbing flesh
I adore him

Strings strung around my wings
Grounded to his surface
He holds my flight
I love him still

September 8, 2010

moonlit love

Dog bait
Wrist strapped
Body trapped
Duct tape for screaming
Caged beasts
Jumping from hundreds
Of hind legs
Deafening howls
And growls in unison
Pavlov's experiment
Salivating anticipation
Less than hungry
Released primal instinct
Drool on flesh
The perfect agreement
Before the puncture
Ripping skin
Blood on asphalt
Each tooth
Through wet
Restrained tissue
The crush of bone
Looking down
The throats of
Strange dogs
In moonlight
Seering white

September 7, 2010

my truth

I can let you go
You're still here
Sacred words
Warm new roots
Single vision
Set free
Inch by inch
I back away
I want
To punctuate the lulls
Of our conversation
With the frozen
Words of lovers
Curling you up
Softening the sharp pains
Of the levels of Hell
Thinking about you
By the minute
You burn in my skin
Twist me in knots
Echoes of all the words
You said
Pad my heart
With each beat
My emotions
Swarm like bees
stinging to protect
making honey
I guess
I do love you
Adore you
every time
I talk to you
lies drip
from my core
Clearly I can
Handle it
I don't love you
I can never love you

September 4, 2010

i am the nothing

Peeled layers
Each covering
The last
Walls that
Buried walls
Down to
Skeletal remains
Not seen
For decades
Clanking bones
An addiction
Meat from marrow
Carving pain
I see who
I am
Next to the
Steaming pile of
That once
Protected and
I am the nothing
To be reconstructed

September 3, 2010


The heels of my hands
Hold my eyes in their sockets
Fractals wrap my head
In a dozen colors
Dizzying me

Compromising that leads
Never following
Breaks down into starlight
And screaming
Restlessness without cure

Independent tears
Breakaway from skin
With more salt
Than ocean's concentrate
Dabbed at with a paper napkin

I was caught today
Falling backwards on blue rug
Hiding from the spectacle of me
Listened and heard
Secured in blinded offices

Sometimes there's too much
In my head
I have to apply pressure
Keeping it all in
Sometimes I need a little help

the transience of circus people

The three ringed circus
This variety show
My novelty act
Has come to a close

I thought I was
Trapeze girl
Swinging with wings
Not my own

Sword swallowing
For applause
When the audience arrived

I spoke into mirrors
Thinking angels were

Sleeping with caged tigers
Feeding elephants
Begging on back legs
Sad dusty gray cement

Sweated fingers slip
I fall to empty space
Without a net
He has his own angel

I saw him, still seeing him
But without a country
The tent falls
His caravan moves on

September 2, 2010

i am not

What is the fight
I need to fight
Each battle a war
Fought with thought
I am not love anymore

Untouchable intangible
Water slips through fingers
Relating as waves relate
Crashing out to nowhere
I am not the sea anymore

Never skin together
Daydreams tease and taunt
This useless brain
Useless skin
I am not a lover anymore

Looking to the sky
Black as death now
Darkness emptied
Star sucked infinity
I am not space anymore

Caring to my core
For inanimation
Spinning with no one catching
Against my will
I am not friend anymore

I want to fight
Not knowing how
Or what else I can do
My love
I am not going to fight anymore

September 1, 2010


It’s Friday morning and I’m gathering all my homework and books for a meeting with my teacher. I attend an independent high school, and I meet with the teacher for one hour a week to review the work I’ve done and to plan on what homework I will do.
This is my first and only year here. Last year, in regular public high school, I was failing all my classes and missed more than half my school days by going to friends’ houses and hanging out at the library. My school counselor told me, straight to my face, there was no hope for me. No hope. He sat behind his oversized brown oak desk, wagging his yellow number two between his right hand fingers and adjusting his the reading glasses that were propped on top of his head with his left hand. He spoke casually, like he was ordering a pizza over the phone.
I volunteer at a local human needs center as a crisis line operator and a child care attendant. At night I work at an international import store stocking dusty shelves with wicker baskets and stinking scented candles. I’ve been volunteering since last fall; it’s required to attend this high school and I work because I have to help my mom pay our bills. I do it all with minimal complaints because this is the first time I feel responsible and in control of my life.
I’ll graduate next month with a 3.89 grade point average.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

I was one of the seven Blues. We were the second graders who couldn’t keep up with the rest of the thirty-three students in our class. Some were class clowns, some dyslexic, one’s English is his second language and I was apparently slow. Too slow.
It was the class after recess. Quiet time for everyone, almost everyone. It was the class that Sister Bernadette would read from a tattered, well-read Golden Book or everyone would take turns reading from the assigned second-grade textbook. The Blue Group was never included.
Everyone would settle into their polished wooden desks, tiny hands folded with interlocking fingers and waiting for instruction. Everyone was well behaved because they knew this was the period to catch up on extra sleep, do homework that was due for the next period or write notes to their best friends.
Sister Bernadette got up from behind her olive drab metal desk that was almost as tall as her and directed the Blue Group to go with Sister Nancy. She pointed to the door with her wrinkled and Holy index finger.
We followed Sister Nancy through the open cement courtyard. All eight classrooms surrounded us as we walked to the opposite end. Sixteen footsteps echoed and bounced off the windows that caged the peering older faces.
Sister Nancy escorted the heavy pumpkin orange door into the large windowless multi-purpose room and flipped the three light switches upward. The room was always cold, and more than that, it was always yellow. Big rectangular fluorescent lights flickered and churned and finally, with their familiar hum, became light. The long brown fold out tables absorbed the sharp yellow and seemed that much more brown. Beneath my required dark colored tennis shoes and blue knee socks, the pale linoleum with little flecks of black reflected the naked walls, the lights, the tables, and at last, my shoes in its recently buffed wax.
This was Blue Groups permanent impromptu classroom. Our reading and writing classroom for the next five school years.
Blue Group was never serious. We all understood that we were the not-so-bright future of America so we spent a lot of time making each other laugh and kicking each other under those temporary tables.
As we sat down facing each other, Sister Nancy gave us our special reading books. Most of the time, we would read out loud into the circle of Blue. When my turn came to read, the words tripped over my lips and fell to the floor, one syllable at a time. Halting and with such irregularity, whiplash felt imminent. Sister Nancy would chime in every now and then telling me to sound the word out or ruthlessly spat it out for me. When I was done, the next reader would continue the almost unrecognizable story and with the same broken flow.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

The magazine with my essay in it has arrived. I am published.
I open the post office box and there it sits. Unfamiliar to me at first, but then, as my mind sorts out the picture, I know exactly what it is.
My fingers release the keys dangling from the door and I reach for the bent magazine stuffed sideways in my box. Outstretched arm - twisting, fingers grasping. It’s really here. Slick magazine paper marred with black postal fingerprints blind my view of utility bills and postcards.
Holding the spine with my left hand, I leaf through the pages with my right. I see my words. My words in a magazine. This is bigger than a journal entry or a letter to my mom. This is bigger than a class paper or a cover letter to vie for a job. This is my words being read by possibly thousands of people. I’m self-conscious of what the world might think but delirious that I’m given the opportunity.
I work hard with this lifelong struggle with words and am pleased to have this grand reward. I’ve always wished for something to be good at. Something that is comprehensive and can be worked to a fine art. Something that’s deserving of green stares and jagged comments. Now I seem to have it but who knew it would be writing?

August 30, 2010


Not like other women
In the quiet of emptiness
My black and white
He can see
In full color

Dulled wooden pencils
Drag my legs in length
Reposed torso between
The curve of hips and breasts
Stretched arms reach the sky

Charcoal drawn
On dusted paper
Blown through lips
Of one complex man
Examining every stroke

Watching with passioned eyes
Bringing me about
His fingers brush over me
Spreading color to flesh
And heat to my paper skin

Weaving layers into conscience
His breath finds me
Fills me with wildness
Rising from bound sheets
To find him back

August 28, 2010

too late

I give up on love
Swallowing it whole
A hot stone
Burning soft as it goes down

My too late words
Squirm in stunted currents
Stolen oceans
Steamed dry by sun

My too late love
With nowhere to go
Buries the mud
With the weight of the world

All the words I have
Fall to surface
I love you too

August 27, 2010

pages of nothing

Dozens of starts
Definitely no middles
And no ends

He is the fiction to my distant reality
Clamoring for air buried
Under the magnets of my desire

He stands next to me
I can smell him
He smells clean
Like he just stepped from the shower

He smells like bubble gum
Spearamint or cinnamon
Popping and snapping

He smells like leather and rust
Every breath I inhale imparts essence of this man

Tornados of butterflies tumble in my stomach and my knees weaken
Popping and snapping

We pass each other
Buried in the noise surrounding us
We don't speak
Smiling at each other

He flashes his huge white grin
The kind of grin that should have the flash and ping of a toothpaste commercial
The kind of grin that makes women swoon
The kind of grin
That makes me look to the ground for fear that my face will give away my undefined feelings

When he looks at me
He holds me in his sight
I fall under his spell
Patient and expressive eyes
Twinkle and sparkle

Like puppy dog eyes or chocolate
When he looks at me
I can only look back
There's a stunning magic in those eyes
Twinkle and sparkle

I can't imagine how he can see me as anything but weird
He'll ask me a question
Make a pleasant comment
My only reply is a jumbled assortment of letters
A nervous mish mash of sentence fragments

On a good day I'll say,

As he repeats himself
I'll use the time to form a complete thought
I try to speak intelligently
Hoping my cheeks won't get red

In the back of my mind
Careless thoughts
How do I look
What are my hands doing
I'll think about the direction my hair has retreated
If I have smudges on my face
Or if I have any bits of lunch in my teeth

I watch words slip from between his lips
His eyes move from my eyes to what he's talking about
I look at his chin and his ear when he looks away

Just a split second

I look at the shortness of his dirty blonde hair
Resting on the back of his neck

His well cast forearm moves in front of him
Orchestrated by his calloused hand
Muscular fingers pointing and gesturing
Complimenting his every word

His strides are graceful
Floating as he walks
Owning the room he's in
Letting his presence flow through it
Flow through doors and windows
Flow through me

Engaging and gregarious
Encouraging and inspiring
Helpful and open
He must snack on magnets because I'm drawn to him
Drawn to this untouchable being

So I write
And I write
Pages and pages of nothing

August 25, 2010

silenced me

I take back
All the words
I ever said
Scraping them up
Torn-nailed fingers
Rake the black dirt
Scooping all
The syllables
In cupped hands
Contrasting colors
Like refrigerator magnets
Shoving each letter
Back in my mouth
Red cheeks
Eyes winced with pain
Filled to capacity
All the awkward insults
Backhanded compliments
Gushing flattery
Manipulative mockery
Swallowed whole
Struggled gulps
Back down
From where they came
I never know
What I mean

August 24, 2010


My Joy of Cooking
Does not apply
To my life

Sauteed onions
In chicken stew
Future plans
Missing ingredients

Simmering for hours
In years I'm tender
And steeped
Life-filled in thyme

Peppered in thought
Stoking the fire inside
This roux
Will rise to the top

my muse is mortal

Eves of change
Uselessly holding on
What's come to pass

Grasping rings of smoke
Tucking them in empty jars
Left from canning

I feel, wanting to feel more
Visceral manifestation
Buried, buried within me

Shelved glass cages
Averting their eyes from mine
Hovering ghosts float like fish

I know what I want, nothing I thought
My artless frustration
Slow, incompetent venturing

The winter/spring preserves
Hopefully still fresh then
Unsealed at three days death

My unreturned is worse
His map is laid
Mine is a thousand thoughts

Spooned stale smoke
Over sleepy congenial flesh
Melted by un-attached words

My muse is mortal
I want to wrap him in my sheets
Lick his wounds to peace

The complicated I am
Defies convention of wrong
Restless change defines my unfulfilled want

August 23, 2010


Recalled memories

Past events

That never happened

Milestones like mileposts

White metal tags

Counting down black numbers

Of my importance

That me who was

Someone else

Dying a thousand times

To create this now

August 22, 2010


Our unmade bed
Tossled sheets
Of checkered red
Clouded decisions
And a family-less clan

Thoughts of you
Crash against his whispers
Vestiges of my weakness
Echo your name
In the tangle of wet

Flesh and tongues
marry need and want
Clasped hands
Squeeze love
To dust and diamonds

My leg over warm thighs
Breast to belly
His crowned heart
Pulses in my ear
Breathless sunrise

Our reflection of blue
His search is over
For me
This passion
It's only just begun

August 21, 2010


Dark cave covered
Self-created recluse
Feeling around
Cold wet walls
Of how I'm supposed to be

Ridges of skin
Collect moisture
From pre-timed stone
Merging with history
That's not mine

Longing from myself
Expatriate to
Lands of sand winds
Swelling red seas
Of foudroyant hunger

Touch my shadowed skin
Protected from nothing
Wanting the everything
Quivering hesitation and
Uncontrolled ravishment

Peel back layers
My tightened mind
Flayed to pieces
Inside and out
Craving humanity's being

Dreams of escape
Relentless mediocrity
A pick-axed ditch
Dug deeper by the day
Choking on boulders

This cave a tunnel
I stumble in dark
Reaching for pinpoints of light
Always farther away
I am unwillingly stuck in time

August 19, 2010


The death of you
Weeks wasting
To nothing
From pills and sick
Life robbed
Freedom stole
Nose to nose
With ruined awareness
My best friend
Every day worse
Than before
As you lie in wait
We never knew
What took you
I still see you
In dreams of life
Three years now
I still miss you

August 18, 2010

this poem

This sadness
Overwhelming darkness
Without a name

Reasonless tick in
Colorless air
Horizontal numbing

Aimless dance with death
Exchanged glances like lovers
Warm skin to cold

My caustic mindscape
Pours corrosive dreams
Behind bloodshot eyes

Closed off from
Worldly things
This poem is endless

August 17, 2010

i can't swim with real writers

For seasons of me
Cyclical reasons
Lying face up
To the sun
Cloud-clad against
Polished wood

Boat floated
Over vast, open seas
Lost with rogue waves
And unsettled sediment (sentiment)
Alone with wind
No land in sight

My only people fish
Fingers brush the water
Inviting the apex
To taste my helplessness
Mermaid pod teased
In spirals to the earth

Nighted moon
Laughs at me
Each reflected white-cap
A giggle of silent proportions
Times millions
In inescapable waters

Burning sun stares
Turn pale skin red to blister
With each pass
I shrivel in the shadows
To nothing
Feckless verbal self defense

Over the weathered side
Seeing myself
Knowing I'm fooled
Inability drips from my sweated hair
Tangling with seaweed
My words drown with me

August 16, 2010

name untitled

And if we give nothing a name
Will it not exist
Existance is futile

The naming of things
Is the only reflection
We have

We are all
Just atoms
Or Adams

*in response to "In The Name Of..." By Brian Carlin @

August 15, 2010

my bubble

Sick of looking at myself

From the inside out

Same old sameness

Quaking under my skin

Rattling this clear sphere

Like the girl in a bubble

Wanting new venues

Wanting to see myself

From the outside in

With different sky

Different earth

Different stories

Different skin

Wanting the newness

Of the world yet traveled

August 14, 2010

comfortable words

The house that words built
From foundation buried
To sky-bound roof

Sharp-barbed, stinging
Tongue twisters
Shrouded in laughter

What is meant
The meanings
Of words not said

Strategy disguised as Love
Grand manipulation
To win the cold war

Endless cycles
Saying the same thing
For generations

Laughing off black and blue
To good old boys
Wearing gold and blue

Paired off and repaired
Bred to consumption
Medicated satisfaction

Socially acceptable
Mental illness defined
Bestowed by guardians

This structure and form
Described and scribed
In deafening detail

Until the house crumbles
Severed from its lexicon
Of idiom and poor locution

August 12, 2010


I saw the sun today
It rose above sleepy coastal fog
Into blue sky without clouds

Through redwood skyscrapers
Light danced with chickadees
As they swooped about the low branches

Cool breezes drifted in the window
Lost friends not felt for months
Brushing my cheek before teasing the cat's ear

The sun smiled at me with swelling golden light
Inspiring a flourish of hope
In this otherwise tedious black hole

August 11, 2010

for now

Half tree
Wind swept
Reaching south
She lost her leaves
Rain pushes and pushes
She migrates

Tiny forest
On the other side of trees
Birds pick at upturned insects
Butterflies stick in sap
Puddles of mud fill the mines
Suffocating air
Drowning the prints of paws

Strange fossils
Bubble up
Shaded and hugged
By bleeding and bare branches
Scratched by sharp thorns
Humans left
With slashing machetes

Half tree
Never was whole
Reach past her history
To collect the sun
Saving the moon
Different days on the other side
Sleepless lights for now

August 8, 2010

dissecting the it

I Wrap my head around
What just happened
Like a python
Around it's prey

It doesn't have a name
Just appearing from mist
Or a shape
Twisting to a stop

I squeeze the air out of it
Peeling it apart
Layer by delicate layer
To see what its made of

A tropical fruit
Skinned with thick and thin
Through its meat
Fertile black seeds

Where does it start
Buried in the sand
How did it end
Washed by the sea

Looking a lot like the moon
Its craters opening now
Spinning black holes
Consumed every ounce of me

My lungs fill
With the smell of it
Low-tide salt air
Blows through my memories

Memories of a space
Never closed
But tied with hands holding
Keys to the mysteries of aloneness

Its turning cogs
In a coppered clockwork
Tick with the slow time
Of stop motion

Each piece of it a rough surface
With smooth underneath
The complicated beauty
Of rendered skin

Closer to the center
Burns the fire of an endless match
The air I squeezed out
Sucks the flame with it

A thin red string
Braided with carbon fiber
Waits for breath of easy ignition
Never to be ignited

The thought of ...never
Putting it back together
Is too dark to think
It crushes the sun

I willingly put it aside
In a drawer next to my bed
With all my other quiet treasures
Waiting for reincarnation

August 7, 2010

what you gave me: for the him of me

You gave me
Bottled up and
Placed on the
Back shelf for decades
I am beautiful

You gave me
By life and all the
Serious things
Invading my skin

You gave me
When I didn't even
Know it was dark
Like the full moon
Peering in at midnight

You gave me
Of love and lust
And all the nice
Things I forgot how to write about
They soaked in venom for so long

You gave me
My emotions
A Pandora's box
Of confusion and chaos
Your patience guided me
To find stability

You gave me
Back my six senses
Buried in dust
And ash
I'm reconnecting
With what is me

I can only give you
And a special place
In my heart
Where my debt to you
Can never be repaid

August 6, 2010

no one in or out

Missing steps
Like missing notes
And missing children
The potential
Of new things
Bathed in light

Terribly lost

Gathered my senses
Placing them in small boxes
With their pictures
Displayed on the side
Data and graphs tell the story
And tamper-proof seals

Mistakenly lost

My own growth
From rubble and dust
Van Gogh visits in dreams
And I cut off my ears
Never to twist with words again
I hear nothing

Lost at sea

My skin is swollen with wet
White tissue blurs
No penetration of thought
In this drowning skin
Nothing gets out
No one gets in

Finding lost

The music is in my head
On repeat and repeated
Trying to put each note away
With the letters and sentences
That imply so much more
My loss is my grace

August 5, 2010


I don't
Have the
Nor the
To wave
The flies
My face
They lick
From my
Sleep free
And a
Food free
My continental
Has drifted
Too far
The cracks
Wiggley worms
Eat clean
My death
I double over
In the
Pain of
This life
All the
Care free
Wander past
And I
To dust

every moment special

Every moment special
A translucent soap bubble
Bathed in the circus colors
Of small l.e.d.s
Floating into a warm sober euphoria

A spider crawls across my white ceiling
He speeds past the seam
Running from his webbed home
Stops for a breath
Or, to reconsider

Distracted by the clink of melting ice
Water grows in the glass next to the bed
My dark milieu in the chill of home
Sinking feeling isn't just a feeling
I've already melted

Freeing thoughts of cessation gnaw at bones
Serrated edges back and forth
Leaving dust and marrow
Blood and skin to stain white bed sheets
This is not the death of me

But my disappearance from existence
No end from no beginning
An infinite circle of me without blue windows
Scurrying across a white ceiling
And never looking back, maybe

Suffocating in wrapped plastic
The bubble of my own making
Pin pricks of red and orange
And blue and green feed me
Into unconsciousness

The darkness of left turns and nice words
Pulling my lungs tighter into submission
Every day a fight with the ghosts
And monsters that dance on my grave
And I dance with them

Swinging from rafters
A hairless monkey with rope for a neck
I watch me creak the splitting wood
In a rhythmic rotation
Back and forth

Intoxicated by uppers and downers
Brought on by whatever you say
Each letter carefully placed
And taken away as I writhe
With the red bars staring from across the room

Heather's eschatology
Written centuries ago on her pasted skin
By the people who knew her best
In fine red now faded to brown
"Her suffering is her reward"

Yet every moment special
The bubble and the monkey
The ice and the spider that get my attention
Without vision
I am the sallow demon that stares at me when I close my eyes

August 2, 2010

memories are the rub

The slow unraveling
I can feel each piece
Come undone
Tiny squares break away
The result of my own doing

My secret life
Held together with wire and string
Withered to naught in time
Days of lost tracking
Counted numbers from a whole

As I stack my blocks
Back into me
I remember all the words said
And feelings felt
And my flood roars again

August 1, 2010

little box of music

A din of low notes
Written in one language
Of hearts
And read in another

The meanings tumble about
In a head of wishes
And dwindling hopes

If I could write
I could put it right
A melody of math
And refrain
Solid numbers and nuances
Would glide across the page
With facts and appropriate figures

If I could put two sentences together
I could touch piano keys
And ukelele strings
Two at a time

To tell you everything

Telling you I'm free from love

But lonely of embrace

Like a loud Johnny Cash song
Echoing in an empty metal factory
With a concrete foundation

If I could communicate
I would touch your shoulder
My lips to your ear
Softly whispering the reason I exist
For you
In the private silence of a serenade

Kissing your lips and face
Gliding across your chest
Holding your waist
Wrapping your legs with mine

Tasted skin
Wasted in my dreams
To the song of No
Or Know
But not now
Maybe never

Still riding the sound
Of your voice that lives in my head
When we don't speak
I hear you tell me
Of the you that you tell me
In poetic words written for other concertos

I don't know why
The chorus of your soul
Dances with the angsty cry of mine

I don't know why
Your words have come so close

It's just me
In a music box
Spinning in an endless circle
Locked away
A plastic sojourner
Remaining for the opening

Open me up
See your reflection

July 31, 2010

my impossible self

Cold comes in through the window
Wrapping my skin like gray smoke
Drawing moisture out through open pores
I evaporate into the blue of night
Particles of my impossible self
Drift back to the outside
A shiny school of silvery fish-like gobs
Circling, protecting what I am
Or will become
From stalking predators
Hungry for flesh that's now meat
The waning moon carries each molecule
With soft light reflecting with underwater luminosity
Flying with undreamt dreams
And unfurled prayers that whisper to oblivious gods
Disappearing in the void of space
I'm blinded by my own green man
He dances on the black hole's edge, pushing me
Razor sharp intent pierces my clouded eyes
I'm spread thin for the first time
For the only and last time
Touching the hot of the Sun
Floating on the ice of Saturn's rings
One million atoms touch
I can see everything clearly now
One piece at a time without time

July 30, 2010


You see me
In bright starbursts
Through black sunspots
Painting my
Night sky
Into blue motion
Specked with silver hope

Your watercolors
Wash the darkness
Into light
A single brush stroke
Theurgical tints
Dye me
A volatile pink

Lexical utterances
Webbed together
Weave comet tails
With satellite moons
Pull me and push me
In physical rapture
Laughing from cloud nine

Titter and roar
At the emptiness
Of space
Orbiting on the
Creation of a new me
You color me

July 26, 2010


Compose ...compose

Words from my fingertips
Like meaningless music
Drawn into the needle
Screeching across vinyl
Hands over my ears
Hoping for silence


The finished serenade
A twisted aria injected
In my bulging vein
Quivering nervous system
Waiting for the surge of euphoric
Nonsense of my own making

Composure ...composure

The overdose of my own
Vacant words leaves
Me empty from purpose
The needletip scribbles with
Autonomous vigor and
I am never heard

July 23, 2010


Pillow soft
Night dreams
And tied
The underbrush
Wild Like a stampede
Of horses

Sleep... sleep

In waking dreams
Once tame
A Pandora's box
Of crazed madness
With all the churning
Desire of
Blood thirsty
Steamed nostrils
Rabid equine

Pillow soft
Night dreams
Breathed in and exhaled
In a rough, pounding
Thrust of
Chest and hips
Hot skin

Sleep... sleep

Dancing above
Legs braided
Welding fleshly
Limbs awkwardly
For a primal position
Tongue concentrations
On pores and wrinkles

Sleep... sleep

Pinpoints of daylight
Prick my
Red flesh
Sun's warmth
Comes in waves
Lapping at
Burnt skin
Releasing the cold
Winter of
24-hour moonlight


Diamond hard
Penetrate deep inside
He reigns in
My dreams to
Shun sleep
And sleep
Is never the same

July 20, 2010


Shining black
Absorbs the sun
Devours the past

Two clicks
Cutting teeth
Point every way
But down

Twirls the thick
Black numbers

A spinning
Ballroom dance
Just for two
Curling to the surface

Through the empty house

Off wood
Ribboned with wear
Searching out
The comfortable bird

Seven twenty

Chiming church bells
Wailing train whistles
Shattered windows
Broken darkness
Erodes cogs

A lifetime of
Faded light
Was the
First thing to see

July 18, 2010


He is my
Needle prick
Shot in
Craving veins
Tight rubber
Mind numbing
To crumpled
My soul
My senses
For another
Just one more fix
The pain
Peeled away
Flesh off
Of flesh
And re poured into
My pores
Every ounce
Like orange
I want
To feel
Gnaws my
Tearing heart
To unconsciousness
My addiction
I am burning
White fire
On fire
He is
My heroin

July 16, 2010


I wish I could grab
Words out of the sky
And put them in my pocket
To hold the letters
In my hand
Like they do
On Sesame Street
Red foam sounds
Squishy shapes
To save for later

July 13, 2010

if you love him, set him free

When I look to his face
I feel a familiarity
That is ages old

His eyes
Windows deep into his soul
I can touch him there

He sees me
Knowing the knowness
And becoming One a moment at a time

Anything he asks
Is his
He lives in my heart

I know him and knew him
At the same time
I understand him

He cares for me
But has no room
I am too far away

And beautiful
He came from nowhere and everywhere

I wasn't looking
But found this flawed
And perfect light

He woke me up
Wakes me up
Gives me breath in the minutes I'm drowning

Wishing I had the courage
To set him free
But afraid to lose a centuries old connection

July 12, 2010


I am broken
Born broken
Into a broken family

Intuition turns
Twisted into

We never
Had a chance
To think

Questions never
Have the right answer

Their voices
On endless repeat
Repeated in my ear

I am the best
Of my
Malformed breed

A feckless malcontent
Pointlessly roaming
In search of peace or truth

Mythical beasts
That don't exist in
The real world

Hopelessness and
Wasted potential
Pave my way

Dropping words to
Relieve the pressure
Of ...everything

Drawn in with manipulation
Down with the
Suction only love can bring

Conditional bargains
And one sided conversations
I'm not at a loss of how I am

There is no heart
No love only the
Tight tentacled bond of verbal abuse

Physically broken
Mentally broken
Broken in the confines of this cage

Here I will
Stay because they
Tossed my function long ago

July 9, 2010


This little bit
Of lava in
My hand
Has gotten bigger

It was small when
I started now
I need two hands
To maintain stability

Hovering above
My fingertips sometimes
It touches down and
Burns me

Burning flesh melting
Like candle wax
Cold black loveless
Blood flakes in the mud

Molten rock was
Never for me it
Was always
Someone else's voodoo

An observer I
Watched them twist
And contort in
Relentless passion

As I swam in
The relative comfort
Of lukewarm

These years later
I swim in the
Geo thermo pools I
Didn't know existed

Holding my breath
I dive deep and grab
The glow of pushing
Rock and steam

This ball in my
Hand I thought
I never deserved
And still don't

It melts through
My fingers and
As I try to stop it
It slithers away

And empty handed
I watch lava join
New old lava in
Creative bliss

And empty handed
I watch without
An ounce of control as
I'm swept back to lukewarm seas

And empty handed
I crawl to shore
Soaking and
Reaching for what I never had

Without water I
Gasp for my atmosphere
Bury me before
I feel again

July 7, 2010


If only I knew
Before now

Such a life
And spirit
Swimming with orcas
In cold oceans
And dancing
In fires from driftwood

Her words were like
Silk against my
She flowed over prose
As the salt water
She brought back
And smiled

She too said I
Was beautiful and
And smart

She is breast less
And withered
Poisoned from the
Poison to save her


I am so sad
for her

July 4, 2010


Wet grainy gravel as
sand sinks with my steps.

Walking thousands of
wind blown miles
in search of that new
new newness. Barefoot and
exposed and too old to see.

I Sift through
and step around
buoys and glass and plastic.
My skin feels that new thing
mixed in with the
civilized debris.

Tiny chunks
of black wash up to
my feet when I look away
deep from the ocean
in foamy waves
of miniature tsunamis.

They're layered like dark paper.

Layered with time I don't have.

An archaeological discovery
under a microscope. Cobbled
together for thousands
of years to be this
newness for me in
the right now.

Small black fragility
waiting to succumb to
new fire.

Creating new fire.

The earth and the sea
pressed together in
grinding ecstasy for
this small bit of
smudged energy.

thousand years to diamonds.

I like this form better.

Rough and impermanent.

Put it in my pocket
to burn later. Adding
to my fire to warm me.

To keep my body hot and
my blood in ceaseless
rotation. To let me think
and breathe again.

Adding this
ancient newness to
my fire for a
thousand years.

Palpable and ready to burn.

I never knew it was
there until my feet
stumbled upon it.

June 30, 2010

morning light

In the safe cocoon
Of flannel blankets
Soft pillow
Beneath my head
Morning light
Peaking in from behind
The darkened curtains

You've been here
With me
To wash the pain away
But today
I am alone

This landscape
My own
Warm and
Quiet with dazy
Sleepiness, my
Eyes blink open

To the reality
Of the You
The rubber wall
The floor full
Of holes

Gone are the dreamy
Dreams that
Moonbeams bring
These moments
My few moments
I can call my own
Pain free
Without you

June 29, 2010


It doesn't
really matter
does it?
Nobody really
cares right?
Hidden away in
their boxes filled
with secrets. I'm
hidden away in
my box too. My own
secrets at the cost
of stretching
and reaching. My
box that I will
return to. To
Once I fell
in love with a
tree. It lived high
on a grassy hill. I
watched every
day as horses
ate the grass from
beneath it. The tree
shaded the horses
from the hot
summer sun. The sun
orbited behind it
like it was the
center of the
universe. Every
day for years I
watched as the
tree reached and
stretched. It
blossomed and
flourished. Circled
by the sun and
Then it was gone.
Just a stump in
the ground. Broken
limbs littered
in the dirt. Fallen
leaves and
sticks. The horses
found shady
hay under other
trees. And the
sun found another
center. My heart
felt it would burst
from my chest. With
quivering chin
and tear soaked
cheeks I couldn't
stop from making
the creek a
flooded river. Overflowing
its banks. And I
swore I would
Broken promises and
lies within my
own head. I am a
round wheel in a
black square box. I'm
worth it but
not worth it. I
wait and I can't
wait. I'm on fire and
the fire is
in one swift
omission. I don't
know what I am
because its always

I'm wasted,

in a puddle,

in the moonlight,

on a tombstone,

wrapped in string
and clouds,

in my secret box
where no one can
see me but
the river I make
and will

June 27, 2010

i am

I am a ghost
passing through people
and things
without ever
an affect

I am a wisp of smoke
wrapped around your hands
your head
without you ever knowing
I was there

I am steam
collecting and condensing
on your skin
only to be
wiped away

I am made of rice
fallen from the moon
rabbits stood on tip toes
to make me

I am an allegory for war
reason and
blind emotion
fight the individual
invisible battle

I am a seer of light
made of coal
I absorb and emit nothing
an observer
I am alone

June 26, 2010

real as five senses

Tell me how real this is because
I want answers where
There are none I want
To poke a stick at it and
Have it resist
I want to know reality

Is it real
Like when you're
Trying to sleep in a warm quiet room
And all you can hear is that
Mosquito buzzing by
Your ear looking
For the sweet spot she
Lands on your shoulder and you
Want to smack her but
When you move she's back
In your ear and you'll only hit yourself

Is it real
Like when you're pulling
Weeds in the garden to
Clear a spot to plant
Tomato seeds to grow something
Beautiful and delicious and you
Dig and dig until the dirt is
In every poor and wrinkle and
Under your nails and
When you go inside to
Wash your hands the dirt doesn't
Come off unless you get
The scrubby brush and scrub and
Scrub and scrub it off

Is it real
Like when your friend offers
You a mystery food snack and
The very taste of it may throw you
Into convulsions as you spit it out from
Your mouth and your nose you
Might as well have nibbled on
Some gasoline and a match as
The taste will never
Ever leave you

Is it real
Like every Monday of your
Four years of high school you'd
Daydream in science class and
Smell the scent of the freshly
Mowed lawns wet and
Green fields of carnage that
Every time you smell cut grass it
Takes you right back to the
Treachery and chaos and
Fiction of
Those unbalanced teen years

Is it real
Like watching the death of
A loved one
Going from bright and
Vibrant to wasting away into
Nothingness muscles going hair
On the floor cups of urine and
Tubes of blood losing life as
Life leaves in
The slowest and most
Painful of journeys

Is it real
Like those unforgettable moments in life that
Happen once and
Happen forever
Real like the sky and
The earth
Its own history revolving and
Evolving around itself to the
End of time

I think it is

June 23, 2010

unfinished business

Washed in you

A reflection of being that I can see in the moon
Hollow and made of cheese
I am circumvented

Unfinished business
And I wonder why I exist

I hear you
I see you
I am you

But unfinished business
Leaves me
Hollow as the moon

Light years from

Being heard
Being seen

June 22, 2010

photograph in the wooden stairwell

There is dark, wet hair hanging straight down
A forgotten crown of time hovering above an opaque face

This is a distraction from the large ancient concrete wings
And rolling eyes searching the crumbled ground
Echoes of slow moving footsteps towards the

dark and endless

Only prayers to a non-existent God
shatter the silence when in the presence of winged creatures

The desperate cry's for the sparing of an incoherent life
Falling on otherworldly ears

There is silence when it's all over

Deaf trees with limbs as wide as crusted mossy arms
Fallen yellow leaves on worn misty paths
Crushing heavy soles in their familiar timeless march
Tiny civilizations bustling in the dusty glow radiating from a blurred horizon watching with one eye

There is the captured sun,
resting, in the palms of soft fervid hands
Scrupulous meditation
Sipping from crossed hesitant legs

The centered, crushing focus of a seducer's self serving thrust

There is my death

The divorce of spine from the
Balance of previous existence

There are tightening joints

Pulling tighter

And tighter

The last breath seeping from vain malevolent lips
No ease of journey comes

The opposite of life pushing through every day
The undying residual echo of humanity that

Has not

Will not fade

There is the bittersweet and salty drink offered without choice
Circumstantial muscles at the base of her wings that flex as she stretches her arm
Offering her tarnished silver cup

The withered reflection swallowed whole by unchaste spots of brown

There is an utterance of peace


As liquid flows down clenched throat

There is the scorching truth injected under crisp blue skin
Smoke and screams tower like a steaming cityscape in red dusk
Razed muscles and a formerly beating heart wrap around weakened arms

This is the open hole I fell through that was once solid reality

This is everything she taught me with never-ending example


One breath

Is all
It takes

A small
Of air

Have petals


I have



June 21, 2010

Fuseli's The Nightmare

Tiny steps to nowhere. Walking in circles faster than the earth's rotation. The spinning and spinning of wheels that don't turn anything. Cogs for the sake of cogs. This sad little sense of competition. Opposition. Without ever any aquisition. Never. This is my own demolition. Destruction of truth. I want to be honest. Need to be honest. Honest to myself. But I only find a hole in the place where my brain flickered with fire and ice. Tiny black eyes burn in that green man sitting on my chest. He's strong as an anvil but can choke me with the stealth of piano wire in the dark. He holds my neck extracting air and love and peace from my very lungs. His own wheels are mighty warped oak with a squeak that speaks to the centuries he's been here. Nothing I can do. There's nothing I can do but swallow his stares. And let his spiney fingers penetrate my chest and pull the sanity from me. Pulling himself onto my cogs stopping them with the flicker of his dark eyes. I'm in silence, gasping for air deep under clear blue water. The earth continues to rotate where loves love and lovers love more. I keep up with my tiny steps. The green man in tow, keeping up with the earth. I want to touch that. Wanting to touch that love of lovers. That love. Wanting his touch as a lover.

June 19, 2010

sonnet IV

This is where I return to the sky
Floating above bodies scattered about
The last thing here won't be ready to die
Maybe we'll get angry, mourn to a shout

Standing by the river, the waters rise
Sacred burials consumed everyday
Fires burn in our hearts, minds, and seeing eyes
Abundant life is now far and away

Close your eyes, the earth will have her vengeance
Close your eyes, your heart will turn to hot glass
Lava spat to crumbling land imminence
Dominant oceans swallow in one pass

Malignant plume of smokey corporate greed
Smoking life out of life that's almost free

June 18, 2010


There is no love. No more love. I've severed the morphine drip. Dripping that clear solution that imitates love. Hallucinates love. Spinning in the tube in a downward spiral for the world to see. For weeks.Tie dye color wheel spins until the nausea puts me to the floor. And I can't take it anymore. That hybrid beast of mystical fancy and hardcore triple ex crush topples me, stomps me, gores me. Black eyes and spinning heads. My morphine was never real. This love was never real. You warned me. And I knew it. But I wanted that sticky morphine. That subcutanious placibo inserted with the keys of a keyboard. That clear tube under my skin, releasing a false sense of serenity. Sense of ecstacy. Ecstacy of interest. That interest in me. That never was. Oozing in my veins, thick in my blood, changing me. I'd change back, out of spite but I lost who that was. That person, full of angst and contempt. I hate that you found the love in me. Nurtured found-love patched together like some assemblaged art piece in a stark and cold museum. I suture my heart. The heart that never was. Piece it back together and pretend it was never open. Never ever open. I was broken. Am broken. Will be broken and embarassed. I meant it all but didn't mean to write it. Damning evidence that will add to my list of curses. Now, I'll put my wings away and drift back into my soulless coma. Where there is no love. Will be no love. Because love is not real. My love was never real.

June 17, 2010

in want

I want your mind
Wrapped around me like
Flannel sheets in winter's night
Whispering to me
In knots

I want your body
Naked and warm against me
Becoming one with me
Welded together
In twists

I want your heart
I want its thumps and pumps
To match mine
To sing my song
In swirls

I want your lips
Close to mine
Speaking your name
Into my soul
Speaking through me
In me

I want my kismet
To kick in
To listen to me
Like prayer flags
In wind


I stumbled on your words last night
Every night
I took my eyes off the cracked foundation
Off my footing

Looking to the horizon
But only for a minute
I forgot what's there

Now I remember

This thing inside me
This love of its own
This thing
I won't call love
I can't call love

But is

I don't know how to say it
(always grasping at words and trying to put them together)
I want to shout it
Scream to the Heavens

But I know you know
How could you not

This Is something
I know it's something
It shifts in my heart
In that little dark spot
Where there was nothing before

like a web
Catching more of itself
As it filters through my veins
Filters my blood
You give me life

What if they prove
there are no mermaids
There's only fish and mammals
In the sea
Swimming unmolested by
Myth and hope

What if the world is round
And we just keep spinning with
No hope of connection

When I finally found hope

I will however
Through several lifetimes
A million lives
To say those words
That all the metaphor spells out

That you already know

To say them
Quietly with warm breath
And eyes wide open

Close to your skin

June 16, 2010


I can't see my room through my fingers

wet skin holds it all together

I can't see the pictures of

'I wishes' and
'I should haves'

everything I am is

something I could be

or should have been

June 14, 2010

untold injury

I spend the last minutes of consciousness contemplating my own death. Is the oven off? What if the heater starts a fire? What if there's spontaneous combustion? As I sleep, I dream of a watery playground. Frolicking with sealife in motionless blue waves. I don't need air. I start my day needing a boost. Sugar, caffeine, heroin, crack, not really but something. I need a boost. The phone rings. I wait five rings before the woman's monotone voice pleasantly asks for the caller to leave a message. Then there's nothing. I think they know about me. Paranoid delusions suffocate me. Depriving me of oxygen like a fire stealing my life force. The back of my shoulders shudder as the last bits of medicine leave my system. Like floating butterflies startled by a prowling housecat. The blackness last left me in high school with that last hit of acid. Lying on the lemon yellow couch, waiting for a voice to pull me out, stretching its hand into the swirling and spinning of beautiful dirt tossed on my head. Sticky sweat held my hair close. It was only 10pm but it seemed like a million. Even earlier, the touch to my clammy flesh was a new sensation. Even alone, I was surrounded. Then they leave, one by one.

June 12, 2010

foolish things

The foolish things I say twist like ribbons in my head.
Bright green polyester spinning over and over until it drills out my skull.
But never really leaving.

Centuries ago,
I was caught in a lightning storm with a beautiful rapist. He squeezed me to death and cracked my soul.
I wanted him to.
...before I knew.

Rain poured on us.
Penetrating my skin.
His indelible mark and my future indifference in scars no one can see.

The foolish things I say take me there.
Double double triple guessing myself.
Quiet for too long and held by cells... now released.
A torrent of words from seemingly nowhere.

Regret and fury dance in fire. Melting away all life.
My oceans stronger now, drowning that wretched sickening fire.
The space made free is open.

Love and respect are free to enter and steam out the wrinkles.
Enter me with a welcoming heart and arms.
Still foolish in love with the best play on words.
Still the foolish things I say come out.
Maybe there is no greater agony.

June 7, 2010

Sonnet III

This is where I return to the mine
Buried beneath mud and decaying life
Thousands of years and suspended in time
Overexposed roots drip of telling strife
Boring a hole deep into the unknown
Wasted scrap unknowingly torn away
Secret moments crumble from dust to stone
All that's left is darkness, how can I stay
But with time and space I will be alright
Everyone forgets and everyone lies
Not invisible and not out of sight
If nothing else happens, everything dies
Deserving revelations do cause pain
Arcane veiled truths will forever remain

June 4, 2010

Sonnet II

This is where I return to the sea
Smooth promontories shield blackened currents
Gazing down, my own reflection empty
Moving to the darkness makes much more sense

Today, I see you the way God sees you
Close to the sky, there's silence among trees
Hollowed noise inside my head, fresh as dew
Lost in ideas, I can hardly breathe

But there's mention of the swelling high tide
Drifting awake with blank stares from fishes
Softly floating back to sleep by your side
Abundance is granted to my wishes

Relentless madness, feudal obligation
Swept free by cold wind and indecision