Lay your hands on my cold and fragile bottle;
hold the cork and twist me-
gently--
slowly--
don’t stop until you hear me pop;
set my spirit free and I go astray-
into your soul so weary;
close your eyes, smell the earth in me-
herbs, tobaccos, vanillas, trees-
savor the aroma of heavens;
now pour me down in the empty glass-
of love and affection;
touch me with your lonely tongue;
indulge my warmth-
wrapping your delicate heart;
little sips-
after
little sips;
until-
you lose control.

They speak to the madman,
Suppression, subversion, detraction,
A vocabulary of ‘less than’.

They speak to the madman,
To the loveless and the wounded,
The self-doubting ego.

They speak to the madman,
A consort of shadows,
Recurrent with paradox.

Until...uncertain as to the integrity of my own thoughts,
Understudied by self-censure and distrust,
I pause to listen in silence to the silence which listens back.

You're not lost, just because you didn't  trust today
I see you here, yet your thoughts are drifting away ...
You rake the leaves, with your bare hands,
You try to see, where your future stands.

You're not lost,  just because you need a break,
I see you smile, while trying to hide your heartache
You collect the dirt, under your fingernails,
As you walk barefoot and cover your trails.

I still see you, underneath the falling leaves,
I hear your voice say "thank you"  and "please"
I see your true smile, glowing in your eyes,
You're the only reason, my soul survives.

Through the dullness of my senses
I pause and wait a moment
for you to rise up
and pierce my soul
with your  love

... still waiting...

My mind is racing and I need it to stop,
My sleep is no longer peaceful cause I dream about it a lot.
I need to talk to someone before it eats me alive, but I am terrified in cause I have it all wrong.
My mind is racing and it just won't stop I'm afraid to admit it
Maybe if I ignore it, it will fade
My mind is racing and I don't know what to do

You would find this donut
only at the day-old bakery
on the depressed side of town
On the bottom shelf
in the back

It’s unevenly frosted
With sprinkles tossed haphazardly around
It is neither appetizing nor revolting
It’s…
Confusing

It’s inviting and bitter

distasteful and captivating

complex and mundane



Moment to moment
Bite to bite

You can’t decide

Whether to try again

Or discard it forever

You are tea,
serene in your surroundings.

                                                               ­                                        I am coffee,
                                                                ­           attention always bounding.

Your colour milkish pale,
creamy optimism.

                                                               ­                              I am taken black,
                                                                ­                                bitter cynicism.


Two sugars,
to match your disposition.

                                                               ­                                     None for me,
                                                             ­       I'll maintain my grim affliction.


                                               We differ so much,
                                                     it's obscene.
                                                  
     ­                                              But in the end
                                               we're both caffeine.

And over time,
My pen stopped bleeding
But my heart didn't

the crickets have arthritis
so we're stuck here in silence.
no melody to lead us to our way
no morning song to wake up the day.

so the sun sleeps in
for the first time in weeks
and i wake up to darkness
resting on my cheek.
i untangle myself from
under this blanket
i turn to you and smile
a soft whisper lost
a cry that didn't make it.

restless eyes fight  the stupor
through this obscure enigma.
my mind’s overwhelmed  
my heart in a coma,
I’m trying to sort myself out
gather my words
when a kiss, simplest of sparks
turns into kinetic chaos launched
to the basement of my heart.

you stroke my face, a
hidden tear you smudge
i open my mouth to speak
but you’re too quick to judge.
so i bite my lip and  
lie next to you in silence,
moonbeams highlighting
the empty space inside us
inside me.
all because crickets have arthritis.