I am often asked:
"How can one find poetry in such a damaged and desolate world?"

The answer is simple:

Poetry can be found anywhere.

It is the sorrow that drives our tears,
the sunshine that brings us joy,
our companion in the darkness,
and that which guides us to the light.

It is the music of our spirit,
the gentle beating of our hearts.
The triumphant wind on the mountaintop,
a source of comfort in a rainy forest.

It is the scream of a father in pain,
the gentleness of a newborn child.
It is the chaos of a raging river
and the calm of a summers day.

Poetry can be found anywhere.

why must you compare pain
someone can drown in an ocean
while someone can drown in a pond
the point is,
they both drowned

Optimism, a fun game
for children and the bored.
I keep my goals tame,
while I shake in the cold.

Afternoon… night.
My goal only for life.
A future of delight,
good job and good wife

See, “I am no pessimist”,
that, while brushing a future away.
Forever claiming I’m a realist—
we know all good things never stay

Don’t get hopes high,  
and there you will never feel surprise

Curiosity killed the cat,
at least that’s so they tell me,
but alas! the 22 to your catch—
he must die to meet his cell-mate

It was the dropping hairs,
falling from your all-too-tight ponytail
that made me love you—
you and your mess.

The Morning Sun,
cuddled close to the Chill,
two monarchs—
deeply in love.