Poems,
sunsets,
lonely hours.
Music crying, so loud—
blurred unhappy faces,
distorted and scattered
through the crowd.
All the different colors,
all the different wandering colors.
All the sweet without the sour,
all these minutes inside an hour.
All alone in an empty room,
staring up at a lonely moon
that once glowed
so uniquely true.
Cosmo’s moon.
Dec 20, 2025
Dec 20, 2025 at 8:23 PM UTC
Just because you might think me mental
Doesn't mean I want to be
An experiment.
I admit it, I thought Quiet Riot was cool.
What?
Mar 25, 2025
Mar 25, 2025 at 4:58 PM UTC
Words like wasps clamor across
empty, luminant screens
Voices cast in Unicode
Feelings in Unicode screams
I close my eyes between the words
just so I can breathe
As the words start to sting
and my brain begins to swell
and the words echo
and the stings linger——
Happens ever time
Behind every letter there is a pulse
Of a stranger I will never see or know
I remind myself of the human heart
that beats behind the glow
Mar 25, 2025
Mar 25, 2025 at 3:31 PM UTC
Let these words I write,
be your cordial invite
Because I write these words for you
between heartbeats
Where our love, hopes and dreams meet.
Let this be my eyes
Gazing into yours
Dancing to the rain drops
I'll hold you, till it all stops
If You'll hold me, while it pours
Mar 25, 2025
Mar 25, 2025 at 1:40 AM UTC
Gift of The Magi
Were I, Magi,
I might toss the runes,
Look across the sweeping sands
And marvel at the dunes.
Read the words of poets
Who have courted many moons,
Search the far horizon
For signs of passing.
This sense of great sadness
Moves through the midnight air.
I ask a lone stranger, but they
Just look at me and stare.
And if I stare right back at them,
Their stare becomes a glare.
So I look across the sweeping sands,
And marvel at the dunes,
Open up my velvet bag,
And again, I toss the runes.
Mar 24, 2025
Mar 24, 2025 at 8:41 PM UTC
Poetry is romance in the mind
A conduit, to the changing faces of truth
A careful way—to convey
Our exaltations—
of vision and beauty
Of duality and love
Of moment and memory
Of the heavens above
To strive with hopeful humility
to shape and elevate
For connection, for visibility
For a glimpse of that perfect light
For just one touch—of the divine
Mar 24, 2025
Mar 24, 2025 at 10:57 AM UTC
It is not the heart
That is complex
It is the burdens
We place up on it
It's not the reflection,
the mirror reflects
It's what our eyes
see beyond it
It is not the dreams—we've broken
It is the dreams—we've shared
It's not the words — we've spoken
It's the wisdom— we've heard.
Mar 24, 2025
Mar 24, 2025 at 9:43 AM UTC
Where you might see—an owl
I see a lovely creature
With eyes the size of silver dollars
The most striking of their features
And how they survey and own the night
Always watching, never losing sight
Mirroring the moon's reflection, with their eyes.
Mar 24, 2025
Mar 24, 2025 at 8:56 AM UTC
I suppose
I shall always be—a wanderer
Walking the halls of my own mind
Always unsure, of what I might find.
Mar 24, 2025
Mar 24, 2025 at 8:37 AM UTC
I am your view from your porch
I am the sand in your toes
I am the light from your torch
I am the bearer of your woes
I am your mirror on the lake
I am your connection to the land
I am the leaf stuck to your rake
I am the hammer in your hand
I am the loneliest, part of you—
Watching—
Waiting—
Mar 24, 2025
Mar 24, 2025 at 8:26 AM UTC