she is a happy ending,
not everyone can wait for.

A wicked mind can hear
The whisper of the eyes

across the log
as graceful as a dancer...


rising out of the water
jeans and blue t-shirt
like a weighted blanket

muddied and wet
the girl of the lake
delighting in the fall

the playful eyes
that wild in her smile                               

(I too
knew that smile
intimately
once
and dreams were plentiful
as the songs
that kept me alive

but the wind walks
a singular path
through the tall grass
surrounding lakes

a thief tip-toeing into another day)

Liberal arts will always seem to carry forward messages which are unpalatable to a mathematician, except rules of language and the enactment of equal rights.

I probably did drugs and injured my brain so that I could love liberal arts and get the full breadth of life.
Now I find once again its inexactness revolting.
All their words are dependent on the right feeling, at the right time, in the right place.

It is so true that I write my own narrative, and it won't be until my last breath that my highest ideal is vindicated.

210 college credits...
5 years of understanding physics concepts...
and 9 months of math problems...
makes me still freshman.

They revealed themselves
So now I know
God, keep me calm and humble

On my knees I pray
When I fall and stumble

I'm lonely and I'm scared
Please let me help my neighborhood

Tryin to do my best
Please don't let me be misunderstood.

So many poems
and stories
have gone unwritten
due to fear of not being good enough