Him and Her

Do not forget her as she goes. As she was small, as she grows to no longer be level with toes
Do not let him leave, as you watch him fall, see him stumble, and just let him grieve

She must not succumb to the dumb, to forced trajectory, to a plan set out for her on the basis of history
He must withstand his test of tears, to best his near and dear, to arrest his fears

She will be herself, and he will be him, through the dim and dark, through thin and stark
to no longer play a part, to start where they wish, and to give up the lives forced upon their dish

Together they defy, in silent cry, as they try to defeat the plans they face
uncovering their style and grace
in this short race defiant of life’s unbending ways


The World at my doorstep

The world is at my door. Knocking, banging, asking to be let in. I do not wish to let her into my space, into the confines of my area so I cover up in haste. I dress in black as to not be noticed, in hopes that I blend with my shadow and disappear out through the nearest exit. The musty air of lingering despair releases through my windows, I turn on the water so my scurrying footsteps may not be heard. I must bathe, I must shave, I must clean up before the world barges in.

But a globe may not enter through these small doors. The roar of billions screaming, teaming up to rush in at any moment, to question me and ask, to poke and prod, to examine without an approving nod. The thuds grow louder, I turn small with anguish, my tongue forgetting language and my legs languish at the thought of millions of people thundering in through my bandaged door. It will break, it will give way.
”Dear World, why won’t you go away”, I say without much conviction. She will not leave and I will not stay, I would escape through these windows if only so foolish to think I would fly away.

“I am not ready for the world. I am not ready for the world”, I utter to myself in regret. I should never have ever called her, she should never have been here. I thought I would leave her as I had found her, without much damage, with the healing hands of time to manage so she may forget she was once mine. What a world she was but I did not expect to see her again. I stammer and I stutter, “Go away.”
A roaring laughter and echo of my words is all she has to say before she smirks, huffs, puffs and threatens to blow my life away.

I give in and open the creaking, cracked door. But there is not a scratch or hint of person, not the world I expected nor the sign of a mass dispersion. It’s all in my head, I tell myself. I no longer hold my breath but now I know that if the world comes to my door, I will gladly wish to let her in once more.


The sheets of ice crack like broken glass
shrouded in a frozen cast of skin
the cold wind blasts what lasts within

At last and again, on thin ice
the pressure with each weighted step
swallowing into the icy waters below
the bellowing call of men in sprawl
catching their breath before a break and fall

To awake at all on such icy patches
where cold latches on
and the menace of a chill catches on

The world watches on
while trudging through the frost
what is lost while leaving for land can never again be truly awoken
but somewhere on that ice
is a patch so clawed and worn
so shattered and broken


in cages where we sit
faces charred
in dark corners
ordered for captivity
but free as birds we shall be
when the windows to the soul
reveal the untold
to those who peer
into the cells of our imagination
for a tragic creation in captivity

a consequence of the world
and all it does not have to be

Things I know

There is a man I know
he is as strong as an ox
he knows how to fight
and he knows how to box
But words were always a wonder
and the tongue was built to steal his thunder
his mouth a giant blunder
for he fumbles whenever he talks

There is a woman I am told
she is beautiful and she is bold
her heart made parts in gold
but she searches high and low
for a man of similar mold
and all she finds when she looks behind
are partners so empty and cold

There was a little boy I once met
he would play all the time
but it was mostly to forget
He had all the toys in the world
but not the company of other boys or girls
so he would play in front of his home
and his mother would cry and ask him why
all he ever did was want to play alone

There was a small dog I once saw
he hobbled along slowly
with something wrong in his front paw
he stayed close to his master
for he always feared disaster
his front paws plastered and tongue swinging from his grunting jaw

There was a big fish I once noticed
he watched the other fish in his tank die and get bloated
he swam so much
to avoid the glass floor’s touch
he passed away from exhaustion
and up to the top of the tank he floated


Sometimes, I struggle to see you in the cold light, disintegrating into a sight of distant rubble
sometimes I think the trouble is me
but at most times, you are somewhere beyond where I can see

Sometimes, I walk long distances in ice cold weather
my skin as dry as leather
in hopes that one day we might get a little better

Sometimes, I see you fine and well
alive in the day, where it is okay to walk away from yesterday’s shell

Sometimes, I sit and wonder
under cool breeze and distant thunder…until lighting strikes and I run for cover in the open fields of our spectacular blunders

Sometimes, I say it is okay and it will be fine in this life of ours
under ice storms and rain showers
what was, will be
and what is to come…we’ll see

Sometimes, I sit and think for days
my head grazed by stagnant craze
until I awake in the middle of my stride
and run away forever and always

What could have been

A weeping potential in torrential sweat
to make up for lost time
lost minds find each other in dark times to connect

When the lights flicker
and eventually go out
when the birds flutter and fly
and finally go south

Here I am, so honest in my skin
a lingering dark shadow
with marrow seeping out the life that could have been

Little Fish

Look here, my little fish
Why don’t you go?
Why do you stay here in this bowl
Not large enough to hold an inkling of your soul?

Go away, my little fish
and don’t look back
Flutter your little fins
Wiggle free through those little cracks

Why do you stay, little fish?
Don’t you wish to be gone?
Your home is no longer a place for you
But please don’t leave holding on

Swim free, little fish
There is an ocean to discover
A new life and lovers
Without need to swim under covers

You lived, little fish
You survived your hand and troubles
Your breaths of air so fresh
And the little hope you dispel in those bubbles

Why are you sad, little fish?
Do you still not wish to go?
Your home is where your heart is
Even in little pieces it will still glow

Goodbye, little fish
I know you had your choices
No matter what path you choose
I wish you happiness wherever your life is


Thin Air

Seated in dark corners invisible to light
Falling into the shape of furniture, furnished out of sight
A blend of wood, of leather, of bone
The flesh unknown to strangers in their own

Observe but never seeing
Existing for the sake of being
Spaces to breathe shall suffice
in the corners crossing over nothing and nice

The gem are the unseen
Willingly unheard in silent scenes
Holding their hat by defiant means
The wind blowing their particles away in violent streams

The steam of strangled thoughts
Drawn and untangled until forgot
No longer seeking what they sought
The invisible existing by the threads of their defiant cloth



A trip incurred to refresh the tastes of pasts so blurred
Spurred by longing, the sense of belonging never spurned
Yearning the present with a sprinkle of places in the distance
Stepping into my dreams with the nudge of history’s insistence

The valley below the mountains
The flowers and the fountains
A sequence of serene surroundings
Amidst the cold winds astounding

The shops and stores have changed some more
A polite delight never succumbing to the score
Changed without upheaval
A delicate arrangement of people
All in the middle of my little place unequalled