A dove and a songbird flitter
About treetops filled
With snowlike glitter.
Their love has no bounds,
And as they once were lost,
In their love they were found.
After the days of dewdrop wonder,
The songbirds' love begins to sunder.
Their follies take them too far west,
Where hunters’ aims and guns are best.
And in the peak of bright, young spring,
No sound could muffle the bullet’s ring.
A sorrowful drip falls from the sky,
A single dollop from an angel's cry.
One bird below, one above,
A heartless song.
A songless dove.
Nov 15, 2025
Nov 15, 2025 at 6:55 PM UTC
I look into the mirror,
Someone else looks back.
Her perfectly long chestnut hair
And her perfectly invisible makup,
And her perfectly blue eyes,
Hidden behind perfectly feminine glasses,
What a perfectly ordinary girl.
A shell of me.
A shell of my being.
I don’t recognize the girl I see.
‘Samantha, come on!
We’re going to miss the reading!’
I hear my mother yell,
Echoing in the cavity in my head.
Right. The bat mitzvah.
At last my cousin was 13
But she acted twice that age.
I’ve never seen someone
So sure of who they’re
Supposed to be.
I put on the pre-ordered dress
Destined for my shell to wear.
I push down the feelings
My shell isn’t supposed to have.
I put on a smile,
One proper for a shell going to a party.
I build a wall over my feelings,
They don’t matter today.
They never have mattered.
The minivan is cold,
More so than usual.
My father sits next to
My mother,
Who does all the driving.
I don’t know how she stands it.
I hate driving.
Phillip, my baby brother
Is put in his car seat.
A spider-man car seat.
Father puts an Ambrosia CD
Into the CD player.
Mother turns on the car.
Adjusts the mirror--
It never stays put--
and pulls out of our
Suburban driveway
That connects to our
Suburban house
That sits on a
Suburban street
Hidden in a corner in a
Suburban city.
Luckily, our Subaru
Thaws as we drive,
And so does the morning frost.
I avoid looking in the
Rearview mirror.
The clock turns to 6:00
As we round the corner
And leave our home
In Riverton, Utah.
Landscapes of frost
End when we turn
Onto the interstate
Connecting all the
Vital cities to each other.
Rather like veins.
It weirds me out to think
That each car is just
A blood cell, travelling
From ***** to *****
Taking its cargo
From one place to the next,
So I try not to think about it.
Trees climb up a rocky precipise
On one side of the car,
And on the other
Swaths of grassland
Dotted with shrubbery.
Distant clouds warn of
Storms yet to come.
It turns to 9:38 when we
Turn off the I-15
At the exit marked
Cedar City.
3 hours before
Sarah begins to read
From the Torah.
I am glad
I never had to read
From the Torah.
My family was never
That religious,
But my dad’s
Brother is a rabbi.
Very religious.
When we’re at his place,
He recites verses of scripture
Before every meal.
He doesn’t like my
Table manners.
Nov 14, 2025
Nov 14, 2025 at 9:10 PM UTC
Knowledge leads to nihilism,
The absence of the goal.
The more a mind grows,
The less it is full.
Although knowing everything
Seems to be key,
One tends to lose sight of
What they want to be.
Whether seeking a question,
And sinking too deep,
Or finding an answer,
With promises to keep.
Knowledge is valuable,
But knowing everything
Can be just as unfulfilling
As knowing absolutely nothing.
May 31, 2025
May 31, 2025 at 12:59 PM UTC
A king on his throne
Balances everything on his plate.
The platter is widened
To fit his overzealous weight.
His plate is made to fit
All he wishes to sit
Upon its golden trim.
Stripped of his plate,
A king is akin
To a childish tyrant,
Taking the plates from those
He knows will stay silent.
Defenseless, plateless,
His people grow weary.
The king doesn’t care.
“Bring the plates here,” he
Says. Without plates,
The people starve.
The king gorges away,
Unaware of the people’s decay.
When he asks yet again,
“Bring the plates in,”
There is nobody to deliver.
So the king starts to quiver,
He paid the price of his
Impetuous display that day.
He sits on his throne,
The king of nothing
With everything on his plate.
May 21, 2025
May 21, 2025 at 9:57 PM UTC
The poor dream of riches,
The wealthy of love.
Love from the women
And the holy above.
The lonely dream to
Grow in glory,
So when they die,
People know their story.
The unfortunate dream
Of success and love,
They send their prayers
To the listeners above.
Wanters; they dream.
But dreamers; they do.
They take all they
Aspire to be,
And grow to become that,
Their dreams set them free.
May 20, 2025
May 20, 2025 at 10:52 AM UTC
Will you leave?
Or will I?
We can’t survive together,
We can’t survive apart.
We can’t survive with each other,
No matter the size of my heart.
I love you,
I leave you,
I break my heart either way.
So please, darling
For one time only,
Just tell me to stay.
One word is all it takes
But one word less
And my heart breaks.
I can’t brave this scary world
Without a tread to follow.
Because the horror of this world
Is far too hard to swallow.
I don’t want to do this alone.
I know I can,
I have before,
But it won’t be for long,
Because I see you
Weak on your own,
Do I make you strong?
Look at me.
Thinking this,
While I know what is true,
You pick me up,
I do the same,
But the stronger one is you.
So I cling, and I follow,
But it’s not until I look.
And when I see you,
Who I’ve been holding all along,
I know I can’t let go.
I can’t do this alone.
It hurts to let go,
It hurts us both.
But we get lost together,
We get lost in each other,
Alone in the world,
And stay behind forever.
Cutting the bind either saves us both
Or leads us into darkness.
At least as far as I can see.
So tell me, darling,
What do you think?
Are we meant to be?
May 18, 2025
May 18, 2025 at 12:50 AM UTC