Poetry is both lighthouse and harbor.
It does not force the journey, nor does it
fill the void of what is unresolved
It stands in its own gravity, unmoving;

      Offering only a silent invitation:
      Will you Unfold?

There is a craving that walks the shorelines of poetry,
a widow’s walk of those who have not yet learned
how to participate in what they long for.

They circle the docks,
watching the ships come and go,
watching the light shift across the waves,
watching for something that will draw them
back home.

Some mistake the lighthouse for the flame
and rush toward it as if to be consumed,
as if breaking open is the same as being made whole.
But the call is not to burn.

The call is to move toward what moves toward you,

   to become ready for  the return
   rather than wither within the waiting.

A moth drawn only to light
will die before it ever understands
what it was meant to become.
But a moth that finds its way to the cocoon
will emerge with wings strong enough
to meet the wind.

This is the choice—
to remain circling, craving, watching
or to disappear into the transformation
that will allow you to stand whole
when the vessel returns.

For he is both the lighthouse and the emerging vessel,
both the safe harbor and the dock,
where the journey finally ends.
And she, in waiting, is not idle..

She does not chase passing figures,
nor fill the silence with lesser pursuits.
She does not betray the longing
with distraction.

She deepens.

She prepares to meet the one
who braved the waves to return.

And when at last the ship appears,
bathed in the light of its own voyage,
she will not meet him as she was—

   .. but as she has Become.

I weep as often as I laugh
not from sorrow, nor from joy,
but because the world hums,
and I refuse to be deaf to it.

Words can define us
What you say
On any day
Think before you speak
Feelings get hurt

Words impact our life
Action speaks louder
Than words

Words can define us
              Our character
               Our demeanor
               Our life

Words have power
So shower them
With love

What you say ?

There was
no madness…
Yet some call
us lovers
“mad”…

Love can
drive you up
your own walls
and ceilings.
Left roped
and hung
by your own
broken heart
strings—

Sometimes,
Love leaves
the lonely—
Mad Lovers,
behind for
dead…

cautious and well in reach
the badminton flying thing
unfolds into the air

yet props have commented on
without equity
upon the game and
sit
still while a grunge era
          
is reborn

and fallopian tubes
become the cause
of my paranoia.

He did throw the ***** on my back!
And it wouldn’t stop coming out.
It gave me a sense of fascination,
And lewd.
I can not explain objectively why

I am a misfit
and I'm okay with that
I mean, I have to be
I don't want to blend in
and be the same as everyone else
I don't like clean girl makeup
but it's okay if you do
I like bold makeup
and it's okay if you don't
I am unique and different
sure, it might be hard to make friends similar to me
but I'd rather have little to no friends
by being myself
than having lots of friends
by being someone else
I may be lonely now
but it's even lonelier being someone you're not
I'm a misfit
and I'm okay with that

It
                                                    is so
                                                 difficult
                                          being in places
                                       after spending time
                                  with true treasure, liquid
                              silver. A buck’s worth market
                            bottle to the 15. 50 cinema sp-
                         ecial. Can’t wait to live rich without
                           drowning.Cold water feels warm
                             warm when your hand are fre-
                               ezing,too bad I’m stuck here
                                       until the end of the
                                                  season.

Colors to me
are like dresses,
created to love,
and make us blush,
and the skin that wears
a pulsating breath.

The skin that wears,
creates a feeling bare
as the colors she wears,
overwhelms a man addresses.

I love the black in contrasting white
and the Asians perfect  under lights
in their yellow and orange pieces,
It sets a man in glowing wishes.

i weigh twenty-one
and three tenth grams
so why does moving
feel so heavy?

like a dog tied to a tree
all i can do is bark
but no one can
hear me scream

why am i trapped
in a suit of flesh
if i am destined
to leave it?

As long as you're here,
as long as this works in its own way,
I'll keep taking
the hits,
the sips,
the bites.

Because you're the kind of substance
that makes me want to write,
contemplate life,
and feel the ache.

WITH MUNG BEANS - I've always hated my uncle and planned for years "to get even with him." 1 day, as I was loading 50-pound sacks of mung beans into my Ferrari, I hatched a plan to knock him insensate with a sack of mung beans suspended 15 feet above his hammock. Everything went accordingly and he was knocked unconscious. There was blood everywhere.

Shut the door
Don’t come back
Once you were
inside
Now Im covered
In cracks.
I was stalwart
True and fit
Years with you
Now I don’t
want to live,
I was smitten I
Fell for your games
There’s only me to
Really to blame.
So shut that door
And don’t come back
The lights have gone out
In this beaten up shack.
Property been sealed
Now  I must rebuild,

We met
We talked
We pretended
We laughed
We considered
We agreed
We exchanged
We left
It was like a kiss from a rose

sometimes
the best thing we can do
for the people we love,
is to let ourselves
be loved by them
without question.

Weary but not wasted

Drawing on power from He who rides upon the clouds,
To face the battles this day that mount. 
Reignite in me an unquenchable fire. 
That stirs my spirit from the one that inspires.

Days are long and exhausting,
Night insomnia is boring,
Thoughts like bullets in a race,
Droplets slide down one's face.
Death! Wonder!
What is like to die?
To say that last goodbye?
Live! Ponder!
Come on!
Hang on for the children,
Hang on for the hurt to go,
Hang on for new karma
Hang on for inner happiness to flow.
Hang on because you are worth more than to go.

He was a
robot
who dreamt
it was a real boy.

I once had a friend like a shadow
Always together wherever we’d go
Running and tumbling and laughing through life
Always connected, one in the same

But then a cloudy day came
And with no sun to shine
I lost that shadow friend of mine
The darkness rolled in and my shadow friend disappeared
Scared off by the first sign of trouble, the first drop of tears

So I learned my lesson
Shadows are easy to come by when the sun is shining bright
But shadows bring little comfort in the chill of a dark night

And when the storm cleared
And my shadow friend reappeared
Ready to run and tumble and laugh with me again
I had to turn away
And say goodbye
For I learned my lesson:
a shadow is nobody’s friend

My haven
patch of sky so blue
Leaves playing with sunshine
as it falls noiselessly
through the canopy of the tree
Everywhere ghosts of
my growing up long ago
slip words into my thinking
Milk of the mind overflow
the paper cup
drink hearty of the stiff brew
Everywhere sunshine
brings back the day
To all that long past
to all the salt
and sugar of my living
It's all just road
Not a thing to fear

A stranger knocks at my door-
I opened it and saw,
Loneliness standing in front of me,
Saying, “Hello, old friend."

My friend got suspended
For writing a nasty email
She told him things
And they did it
After school
In his bedroom
And they keep going
What about me?
I'm part of your relationship too
You're dating me
Not him
Why
Why
Why