i guess confusing cherry tree petals
with falling fresh snow
might just be a metaphor
for whatever's held in your soul.
but you should know
that the snow always starts to go:
when the sun rises (up!)
the snow is all gone.

pins and needles and *******'s blaze
out-of-body-experience leaves me trembling for days

in a world of able bodies
are you able to perform me?
reaching into deepness & honey
the bass in our voice sounds lovely
but some treble is, quite frankly,
the one thing that we find lacking
in our mono-universal cell beats
in our silly English breakfast tea
reach into the tranquil divided personality
and pull out a couple vodkas & martinis
a long night awaits us out in the city
the elder travellers used to whisper quietly
but now they're just dust-

so i reached out
               panting
and suddenly i was
              touching
the sky, in all its
          mystifying
glory, was
        iluminating
everything i had ever called mine was
                  falling
cascading onto the floor and almost
              crashing
into all my sentences, that were
              sleeping
on the floor, and
               waiting
to be finally awoken

she was not pretty like a flower
not like the moon, the stars,
the planets, burn candles
in fact, she was one of the ugliest people
i had ever looked in the eye
because she laid bare
and gave you this stare
that meant so much to someone so lonely
like me, i could see
every pattern engraved on her soul
she was no one;
but she was definitely someone
to be recognized, by the sheer force
and willpower in her demeanor
no, she was not pretty
she was strong, the way iron is
when it is still withstanding
the hardships of weather and time
beaten down but holding on
for dear life; she was so, so strong
oh, i thought she was beautiful
beyond the grown over eyebrows
and all those other trivial features
as i stared, she winked in my direction
and commenced her transformation
changing into the very epitome of who i want to be
determined, lovable, dependable, free

i guess it is
'cause i'm sinking into the old feelings
of unawareness and hatred
for everyone else

today i am angry
drawing strengh from courageous role models that I've never resembled

not
      one
              bit

even in my anger i am able to look around
and see other people's second eyes
staring
right back at me with the same fiery hate

i am
astounded
as to how we can all be so unhappy
and not be able to find the solution
as to why we secretly
hate
(each other)

does it comfort or exasperate you
that every single thought you come across
has already popped up in an other person's head?



your life
         has already
         been lived
before

i just want to be able to feel okay again
-ten word story

it's crazy how someone can be
slowly recovering
but also
hurtling
               towards
                              the end.

i fear all my next poems will be
filled with despair
the quiet weight of a horse no longer to be shared
the clangs of falling down pans over
spilt (milk) diarrhea
the falling out of words meant for good intentions & affairs

vocal chords were built like
guitar strings for a reason:
for voices that will not be silenced
but will only be greatly amplified,
for people that won't be slaughtered,
for the son, the lover, for your daughter.
for the solidarity or the sorority
we must remain invincible, stronger.