Hand-Scrawled Lines
Hand-Scrawled Lines
I want to breathe
Both with looming skyscrapers,
And mountains stretched high,
To feel the sun
Smiling on my skin,
And cold water
Enveloping me in a splash,
To climb trees
Not just to have a new perspective,
But to be one,
To sit tangled
In soil’s masterpiece
And simply be a rough draft,
To write my own final copy
With hand-scrawled lines
Broken with poetry,
Smeared with tears
Dripped from joy
And sadness,
Filled with budding wildflowers
Of hope and inspiration,
To bind the pages
With thread woven
With every smile I’ve beamed
With the sun,
With the breaths I’ve taken
With the mountains
And the city,
With everywhere I have seen,
And every perspective
I’ve been.
The Voice
October 2024
Listening to Wind
It is September, yet I can still hear the beach. The sea moves and swells; it tumbles to the shore, dusts itself off, then rushes back towards the sand. I think this could heal me: the sound of wind,...
I Bake America - Inspired by the "I, Too, Sing America" poems
If my life, my American life, was a table setting Laid out lovingly by all my ancestors. It would have the usual trappings: A garnish of good fortune, a pinch of the salt of stability, A hearty main c...
Need Less. Give More.
Need less. Give more. Stop looking for the sorrow in life. Watch the good things grow. Don't give up. Live your life to the fullest. Life is the one thing you can't redo. Find the joy in the ordinar...
Escape
With the curtains thrown wide we see the world gray and we know it's the fault of our own Spent far too long bearing crown, sword, and shield we forgot from what it was made and let's pack up our ba...
Getting Older
I'm getting older. I often struggle to notice. I'm with myself all the time, I know myself better than anyone. The thing I always fail to know is how much I've grown. I don't notice until I think ...
Nothing Can Reach Me Here
Sometimes the drive home is just too good to end. The darkness envelops the road ahead, the road behind, the fields of either side. Nothing can reach me here. The tires whine on the road's pavement,a...
Birthday #2
Aging is such a hard concept to get your head around. The world moves, and sometimes it’s easy to forget that you do too, in ways that are impossible to see or fully understand. You blink and suddenly...
Hand-Scrawled Lines
I want to breathe Both with looming skyscrapers, And mountains stretched high, To feel the sun Smiling on my skin, And cold water Enveloping me in a splash, To climb trees Not just to have a new persp...
The Blackbird
There’s a blackbird outside my window, but he doesn't sing. His golden eyes glow like horizons, pupils like sinking ships. He smiles sometimes, his crooked smile. He says “Embrace God and embrace lov...
To Be the Fox
Now, I know it may seem common, even shallow — to answer with such a simple thing, but 'tis what draws my heart — the Fox, silver fur, dancing in moonlight. Could I choose, I would be one with her, s...
Behind the Perfect Imperfections
Behind the walls, behind the fences. Behind the perfect, the imperfections. Swallow my pride, I am not constantly terrified, fearing for my own life. I live amongst jewels compared to others' scraps....
Ourselves
We are running from Ourselves Because we have built Ourselves As a single entity Connected by invisible strings Wiring the universe Together but Tethered back From living From breathing From existing ...
The Sky Was Red (No, Orange)
The sky was red. Okay maybe it wasn’t completely red. Kinda orange. A scene from "Dune" when you think about it. Just bizarre. Things like this usually don’t happen in America. (At least what some peo...
Credo
Those who are lost have forgotten the body does not stop or start at the skin, but continues to be one being. You are the world as much as the world is you. You are a patchwork of experiences, eroded...
The Ocean
I’m at the ocean again, and I feel at home again. The salt breeze always reminds me of seaweed, green string stitched into blue silk, brown tangles piled on the rocks' edge. I just say it all adds to ...