A light has faded
A voice gone silent
A hope is ended
A life now spent

The dreams are gone
The visions closed
The curtain drawn
The life reposed

That presence lost
That joy now ceased
That bridge was crossed
That life released

But love lives on
It will not cease
This life so short
Is now at peace
BOEMS BY JA 220

I don't think winter
Was ever meant to be
Who can live when the cold
Freezes your soul?
I want the warmth of the sun
To kiss my skin
I want the delicate flutter of
A butterflys wing against my cheek
But nature plays this cruel trick
On me every September
It cajoles me with red and gold leaves
The shades of amber and burnt orange
Delight my eyes
All the while the leaves are dying
And I will never behold them again
Bare branches will reach up like skeletal arms
Against dull gray clouds
Snow will descend and a hush will fall
Like death, but not quite
And I must wait so long for the first bloom
Of color to push up through the spring snow
Promising the warmth of summer to follow
I don't think winter
Was ever meant to be

I'd sweep you off your feet
But i don't want to drop you
So let's just pretend i just did.
As long as we know it's genuine, it shouldn't be too big of a deal, right?

Why is the poetry section at the bookstore
So small?
We're the misfits of the artistic spectrum
Why do they leave such a small hole for us?
Out of all the five star hotels, we're the only only art form that got a one star instead
We're going to need an umbrella, it's going to rain soon
Not because it's symbolic, but because the humidity is high
There needs to be a change in the literary frontier
I'm going to trick or treat, but i don't need no costume
I'm coming as myself
Ready to break through the barricades
And increase the size of these poetry shelfs for the future to embrace
More dreams and more elation than ever thought of before.
We may be the minority now, but it can change for the future
Don't buy a different crystal ball on me just yet
We're the eighth place team that will contend for the playoff
Just watch the curtains come undone
And the kids run
For that golden dream.

something about the late nights
driving alone with the windows down
listening to a soft melody
reminiscing all the old times
the good times
when life wasn't so complicated
it is pure beauty
feeling the most vulnerable
the most alone
it is such a joyous sensation
knowing that i can feel this way
whenever i need to get out
it's just as simple as starting a car
pressing play
and rolling the windows down

Sometimes I think
We were meant be
Perhaps in another dimension
You and me
Met in a coffee shop
At some small university
Or maybe our parents were friends
And we met as babies
Grew up as best friends
Became lovers at eighteen
Perhaps you were the king
And I was your queen
In some faraway Kingdom
Barely out of our Tweens
Or maybe we met
One night in a dream
Wanting to be real
Like ghosts want to be seen
I still think about you
Though I only see you in dreams
I wish it weren't true
But we're stuck in this dimension

I dated  a poet once
who thought my eyes
were brighter than the sun.
I was his muse,
his life revolved around me.

He gave me a poem once.
He was nervous
the note was moist
in perspiration.

The brightness in my eyes
made him see I was the one.

But oh,
little did he know

the fire burning
in my eyes
was not for him
but for something more.

I was his sun
and he dared not to
stray from his orbit.

I thanked him
and walked away
because what I wanted
he could not offer.

I dated a poet once,
who does not write anymore.
I took his fire with me,
forevermore.