I was born yellow
and weeping
in the wake
of fresh grief
Plucked into a tank
and bathed in light
and they covered
my eyes
I was born fearful
and boasted
in the face
of an unworn pain
Lifted to the sky
and baptized
when I opened
my eyes
I was born watchful
and patient,
the silver-lining in a funeral suit
the son of a fatherless man
Nov 16, 2022
Nov 16, 2022 at 4:06 PM UTC
i
look
at five
christmas
tree ornaments
she made sure i had
with me when i moved.
i see a dusty shrine and a quiet
reminder i can never hang from her tree.
and i
don’t
know
where to put them
Nov 15, 2022
Nov 15, 2022 at 4:45 PM UTC
Last night the sky melted
Forever long strings of
Galactic spit and spent fumes.
And when the morning came,
(Though by then we called it grief)
We watched with tear speckled cheeks
The children splashing in sporadic
Celestial puddles
Until they were soaked and sporting
Angel wings
Come afternoon
Trees fell, hurried,
Swept into a milky current
Streets flooded
Til only ***** leather hands
Could reach above
Infinite waves
But found nothing
To hold on to
When evening fell,
Cities swallowed
In deep star oceans,
Few remained in monasteries
And cathedrals
And 4-Star hotel rooms,
And all that could be heard was
The steady drip
Of eternal pour
The more devout among us
Believed it was rapture
The more religious prayed it was not
And I myself
Plagued by that perpetual
And ineffable indecision,
Resigned to consummation
Aug 15, 2019
Aug 15, 2019 at 5:34 PM UTC
where have they gone
those blue-bodied
shadows of night,
those who have crept
upon blank pages
and offered their sight
where have they gone
those murmurs nourished
in salty breath,
those who have lingered
blooming gently through
the cracked hands of death
where have they gone
those tireless
creatures of fear.
those who have conquered
their slow mortal days
can be found no longer here
May 25, 2018
May 25, 2018 at 10:54 PM UTC
don't you ever notice
the way the wind growls
like she's alive
and she's angry
and how when she bites you
your skin doesn't bleed
but inside something stings
and sometimes when she roars
she bends trees
and pulls them
from their roots
but she also moves the tides
and when she blows back your hair
and your eyes water
she's only just saying 'excuse me,'
and 'I can't stay long'
and when she whimpers
on your skin
goosebumps bloom
and devour
have you ever noticed
how she carries your words
along her back
and then drops them on mine
and how she stays underneath
the people flying without even trying
but rarely lifts people from the ground
and when she does
she paints the sky black
and purple and yellow
like a bruise
and when she's gone
you wonder if you should move
and if you even can
without her
Sep 4, 2017
Sep 4, 2017 at 5:58 PM UTC
Smother me with love,
Scoop up my last breath into
Your China glass hands
Carry it away
To your backseat and let it
Linger on your clothes
Sour lips, cyanide
Seven dollar bills and your
Third busted tail light
Can you count the ways
People count their endless days,
Scavengers of time
Seven million years
Pass in fog on the windows,
And we are alone
Fragile leads fragile
Brokenness binds together,
Sugar and Coffee
Jul 11, 2017
Jul 11, 2017 at 11:31 PM UTC
I am Calm
and you are my Chaos
I am a quiet sea
And you are the winds
That make the waves
You are the lottery
And I am just a penny saved
I am the stillness of the puddle
And you are the thunder in the clouds
You're the entire marching band
And I don't make a sound
Mar 4, 2017
Mar 4, 2017 at 11:53 PM UTC
I know very little. I cannot say why or how the moon tells the tides to shift. I cannot decipher The Whispers of Springtime mist. I do not know if death himself dons a black robe or if his kiss is soft. Or given the chance if I would turn myself off. I cannot Define the feeling that floods my guts when your Whirlpool eyes sink into mine. I do not know if we discovered or invented time. But I do know this. When I think of paradise I'm in a car and it's dark and I am with you.
Nov 26, 2016
Nov 26, 2016 at 12:24 AM UTC
Today I watch in disbelief,
entire city, swallowed whole
Nature's indifference betrothing Man's grief,
Each one believing it's in control
Nov 17, 2016
Nov 17, 2016 at 4:26 PM UTC
Tonight my room has me pondering
how something still so fresh and foreign can also feel very my own.
Cram a couple of out of tune guitars
and a dozen dusty books into four walls and I will call it home.
And I will wonder of those before me who had also called it home,
and of those destined to
long after I have gone from it.
And we will always share
this deafening bond
of discarded skin cells clinging to the walls, buried clumsily under the thousand secrets we've thrown at them.
How many prayers have been whispered that only they could hear?
How many tears soaked up by the floorboards?
How many pleas for redemption have they ignored?
Painted in the shades of our voices howling our favorite songs,
stained by those erratic epiphanies that blew our brains all over them.
To the Great Big Something,
Please send my sincerest good feelings
To my Wall Brothers and Sisters
Nov 11, 2016
Nov 11, 2016 at 5:12 PM UTC