I have seen God’s hand
as a cloud bends from the sky, breath
as a fog fell in the highlands, fingers
splitting rock of the glen
for two knees to rise— mountains.
I have traipsed God’s spine;
stepped stones jutting from the hill of her back
dressed in heather, moss, and clover.
Down the winding path
at the bottom of a spring
I found God’s heart,
all of her love welled up in pools.
From the stream I pull
her love’s labor, now in my palm,
a polished stone to skip or to hold.
Dec 6, 2023
Dec 6, 2023 at 12:27 AM UTC
Bugbitten and peeling, red skin,
wrinkled clothes stuffed in suitcases,
drinking from garden faucets and
running through your neighbor’s sprinklers.
A heat that cooks you from the inside,
leaves you all decay
lying beneath a lazy,
buzzing ceiling fan.
In the warm stillness
a ray of sun catches the dust
spinning, falling slowly.
Hopscotch. Doubledutch. Chalked pink fingers.
I wish I remembered more.
The dust as it falls in the darkness.
The dust just before it hits the ground.
Hazy desert skies,
forlorn orange, teal and starless,
every cloud in tangerine lines.
One earbud in your ear, the other in mine.
I think I’ve become the dust
caught spinning within a sunbeam.
Moths hitting against the window,
cicadas singing outside,
a reminder of the world still breathing in the darkness.
I will always think of those summers and think of you.
Sep 19, 2022
Sep 19, 2022 at 11:06 PM UTC
it is the crescent of night
her eyes gleam in bright silver,
my heart wanes like a tide.
hope was once rising across our sky,
but is now wedging below the earth.
Feb 20, 2022
Feb 20, 2022 at 1:18 AM UTC
In December, I thought I heard the sound of crickets outside my window.
The street lights stutter as snow falls
beneath their mute flickering,
all my dreams or memories of lightning. I'm alone
with the aching crush of snow under my feet.
In February, I miss the sound of falling rain.
My heart falters at the hope of rolling thunder,
disappointed when turning out only to be the harsh wind.
Still– I close my eyes and allow myself to believe
that the storms arrived after all of my wishing.
The wind falls and all I see is
green and glimmering,
choirs of leaves always promising
to return all of the heartache I thought I’d forgotten.
June, you took
everything.
Yet it’s always you coming back to me.
Feb 20, 2022
Feb 20, 2022 at 12:59 AM UTC
like an abandoned house, my body creaks.
the floors shutter inside
at the occurrence of any visitors.
a forgotten door remains open-
waiting.
she'll always be waiting.
by now, she's forgotten
if there's anything worth waiting for.
is there any music left in me?
is just feeling enough
to fill the silence?
i can still feel it.
i'm still spinning-
i'm spinning,
spinning,
falling back into poetry.
Jan 23, 2022
Jan 23, 2022 at 3:47 PM UTC
When I try for rolling thunder,
it comes out a knock on the door.
I've stopped checking the mail--
I don't expect to hear
from you anymore.
(Love is pouring from my cracks and my seams.)
Did you hear that the continents are moving back together?
Do they regret the years spent apart?
(If I think too clearly of you,
I must draw myself closer
to squeeze out the aching.)
It is hard to let go
when there is nowhere new to grasp.
Jun 18, 2020
Jun 18, 2020 at 2:40 AM UTC
I stand, toes cold
beneath black sand.
The waves may be calm,
but I am all violence.
Neptune glows greatly above.
I've lost all fascination for constellations;
By now, I thought I would be
up there with them.
The dark sky burns ultraviolet,
my passion desaturated
by years of lost opportunities,
or maybe, by the storms
they predicted but never came.
Either way- I've come to know
disappointment like the scars on my knees.
I scream, Did you think I could ever forget?
Sep 26, 2019
Sep 26, 2019 at 12:08 PM UTC
Pangea,
your splendor outweighs
all faults that you possess.
The pain you have endured
outweighs all blame bestowed upon you.
Naive nymph that you are,
there are truths in you
which I have forgotten.
At dawn, I hold your heart in my palm,
whispering forgotten songs and silly dreams,
as sunlight enters the earth
with a promise of bringing new regrets.
Aug 8, 2019
Aug 8, 2019 at 1:41 PM UTC
I miss you.
(Today especially).
I still find myself thinking:
maybe I just need to leave,
go as far as my dread may take me,
but clearly, that will never change
my aching heart.
So I skip along alleyways,
twirl under city starlight,
stomp down the concrete,
dancing-- Just give me one moment.
Please, just let me have the isolation
that's trapping me.
I would give anything now
to scream without anyone hearing,
to die without anyone finding
the body, (to find anyone that cares,
truly, truly, truly).
Every day I grow closer
to stopping and asking
the next stranger I see,
"Can we pretend that you're my best friend tonight?"
Can we pretend that I never left?
That you never stopped caring for me?
I miss you always,
today especially.
Mar 1, 2019
Mar 1, 2019 at 11:55 PM UTC