Came and left
gone and dead
give me life
upon this hearth
I cry
Give me chance
give me death
I’m just a poor man
looking for my life
to save
All my days
I’ve tried
to validate
my own existence
so the pain would
steer away
into the ocean
so blue and everclear
don’t tell me I’m saved
save myself in the meantime
Free my head
free my heart
free my hand from this
bloodstream rolling and collating
down my sideburns so
hot hot hot
burn burn
Stop
Knocking behind my eyelids
like magma underground
but hell is a place above ground
Jul 19, 2018
Jul 19, 2018 at 12:23 AM UTC
We were indefinite
moments
We were habits
built and snapped
promises made and snuffed
We were village idiots
nocturnal cretins running
stop signs and red lights
and bounding a hundred miles an hour
down empty highways
at three o’clock in the morning
chattering and chortling
and secretly feeling
at each other’s hearts
trying to hoodwink the universe
into believing
even for a moment
that we were more
than just a flock of sleepless kids
searching for unattainable
meaning
Jul 1, 2018
Jul 1, 2018 at 4:18 PM UTC
I am not
what I foresaw
Among rainbow-colored
lands askew with fruit ripe and seeping
springs wallowing on ancient forest loam
I used to dream of the sky
Now I lay upon nail beds
destined by shadows demanding
legacies foretold by soothsayers
with eyes clouding against the present
I am nothing
change is something
Was I ever
something
Aug 26, 2017
Aug 26, 2017 at 8:36 PM UTC
Take your ship out to sea
and bring laurels blessed with holly
on this journey to unearth treasure troves
hidden in the gossamer waves
Let your flag sail high in wind
and crane your neck high
among floods that rage
in endless sickness and fledgling health
Chests of gems and gilded bands
await at the edge
miles numbering thousands
unfettered to all but time
Rally your spirits and hang them by the sails
so passing shipmen may see
the bones upon this watery hull
and chant for boundless Someday
Storms await and creep like snakes
through flumes of silver clouds
the tears they wring rocks the fleet
and dyes dry skin vermilion
Famine prays to fish for food
while brine coats the shattered deck
parched crewmen beg to die in sandy oases
surrounded by undrinkable water
Promises and tears the only drinks
now pain tattooed to flesh
gold glows neither in caves
nor does it shimmer in light
However many years pass as eternities
brighter dreams mark crystal soils
and platinum trees plump with diamond fruit
float atop the promised land
Though the ship has weathered shattered frame
and dried blood lines your chest
the anchor dives through watery shore
and cries through salt land **
Sands crunch loud underfoot
like God's soft muse skies hum
no treasure lies here but an ashen tree
and the whispering wind begins to cry
my fortunate babe, you've arrived
Jul 11, 2017
Jul 11, 2017 at 9:30 PM UTC
You've forgotten why you lost contact with your closest friend but you haven’t forgotten the days you invited him over to play video games and instead conducted two-man airsoft skirmishes in the forest behind your house
nor have you forgotten the short films you created, in which you portrayed a murderous Bosnian chef who cooked toxic meals, and he played the fourth-wall-breaking cameraman who hurled plastic bananas at your head as you ran through your unscripted spiel.
You still can't forget the weekends you’d bike to his house to point and cackle at comedy television, nor the nighttime drives during which you two would talk about where you wished to be in ten years: he in a log cabin nestled in a Finnish forest, you somewhere in France.
The younger you believed you’d grow alongside him and build those dreams.
Now you hope you’ll one day find him sweeping through the Finnish glades and he’ll ask you to walk with him.
Jun 22, 2017
Jun 22, 2017 at 5:28 PM UTC
In meadows of supple leaves
and sands of crystal grass,
long-lived fears
of a life lived long have passed.
Still, cradled in the veins
of another person’s heart,
you cannot help but bleed.
On days of untold
ire, your eyes wet and red,
you rue the day you took a breath
from the old ocean sun.
Yet salty waves of green
could never hold back
your swelling song.
I have watched you grow
and have watched you drink
water from the riverside mound
upon which lay
the dreams you have held
since you were a child.
I know not where you belong,
where years will place you then,
but sirens wail upon your hearth,
Wherever you end up
you will be beautiful.
Mar 16, 2017
Mar 16, 2017 at 10:21 PM UTC
Opulence is a whisper
In a forest full
Of clouds
Subtlety is a shout
In this city
Of waning light
Feb 26, 2017
Feb 26, 2017 at 10:18 AM UTC
How can people
Love who I've become
When I don't yet know
Myself
Feb 15, 2017
Feb 15, 2017 at 5:40 PM UTC
The house was big,
Too big for a divorced family of four.
It had sickly, pale yellow siding
With cracking paint and a long archway
That led to a round, asphalt-covered
Backyard.
Most days the trees
That rolled out into the little valley
Alongside it were barren and spiny,
And you could see through them, all
The way to the quiet road that cut
Through the growing houses
Below.
If you were lucky, you would have seen
A few kids shooting airsoft guns,
Running through the fallen leaves,
Leaping atop all the muddy mounds of dirt
Next to the creek, but they
Have lost contact
Recently.
If you were to climb up the little green hill
That rose just next to the mouth
Of the house’s driveway,
Cresting along the edge of the cul-de-sac,
You would see a greenhouse,
Brown, with splotches of dirt
On the windows.
If you opened its flimsy door,
Which was usually locked,
You would see all the uncut tomato plants,
All the sage and spices,
And you would probably wonder
Why they were not harvested
Yet.
But the people who owned it
Usually bought their groceries
Rather than grew them.
Feb 2, 2017
Feb 2, 2017 at 4:29 PM UTC