I woke up early morning
With one thought in my head.
“I cannot wait until tonight
When I am back in bed.”

I’m on my second coffee
And still I’m not awake.
I pour a third and fourth cup;
My hands are starting to shake.

Don’t attempt to speak to me
Before the clock strikes ten.
It’s hard for me to form a sentence-
Or even a word - till then.

And if you know what’s good for you
Don’t ask me “where’s that smile?”
I will not hesitate to slap you;
I’m feeling extra vile.

Luckily, this cloud will pass,
It’s just a friendly warning.
So you will know what to expect
From me tomorrow morning.

Moving on is like growing up.
You never really remember going through the process.
It just comes as a realization.

My family is not too small
Just one short of a dozen.
Ten of us under one roof
And not one of them’s a cousin.

We drive in a 12-seater van
Sometimes even long distance.
But we’re not going anywhere
Until mom takes attendance.

My siblings greet me after work
With “Can I have a dollar?”
Oh look, my missing leather belt
Is now the cat’s new collar.

Our chickens provide our breakfast
Collected straight from the coop.
I hate to admit this but, last year
One of them cooked in our soup.

Our cat is great at catching mice,
He’ll even eat a few.
Unfortunately that is why
We’re down a parrot too.

We’re out of milk, there’s no clean socks,
Did someone feed the chickens?
Please don’t tell me it’s my turn
AGAIN to clean the kitchen.

Every day is an adventure
Some days more than one.
But let me tell you one thing:
We’re always having fun.

There lives an old lady that looks a bit shady
Who came to my house all alone.
One day she crept in - maybe I let her in?
I locked the front door, that's for sure.

She was awfully frail, and smelled a bit stale,
And she glared with disdain and complained.
She made me stay home so she wouldn't be alone
While she groaned at the ache in her bone.

The days dragged on but she wouldn't be gone
She's still here - as we speak - in my chair.
I could kick her out but she'd probably shout
You should hide if you're on her bad side.

I've tried "go away" but she's decided to stay
Taking over my life without strife.
I want to be free, but she lives inside me
You see, that old lady is me.

I'm feeling kind of lonely
but please
leave me alone.
I want to open up my heart
but please
don't ask what's wrong.

I'm longing to be rescued
but please
just let me drown.
I've built these walls
to keep you out
but please

just tear them down.

patience is not just waiting. it is a practice of composure and humility. if hope is the thing with feathers, patience is a smooth riverbed stone: gentle, yet uncompromising.

rejoice, oh rejoice,
who are weary and lost!
turn your eyes to the blood
that was shed on the cross

Jesus paid the full price
for your wickedest deed,
there is nothing to do but rejoice-
you are freed!

He was beaten and mocked;
unjustly accused,
and He died on the cross, marked
"the King of the Jews"

rejoice, oh rejoice,
for His blood has been shed!
accept it and live,
"it is finished!" He said

There is a seedling
Planted in
The soil of my heart.

She’s delicate
But full of life;
A priceless work of art.

A gentle touch,
A loving hand,
Is all she really needs

To open up
And face the sun,
And sprout her first new leaves.

solitude is a peculiar thing, for it is both freeing and bounding.
how can one be imprisoned by their own solitude?

Today I looked fear in the face,
Today I made a choice.
Not even the earthquake in my chest
Could shake my steady voice.

I spoke of what he said to me,
The fear that he imposed,
Of all the things he tried to do
Behind the door he closed.

Today I’ve laid my burden down,
Today I’ve been set free.
For when I spoke his name out loud
I broke his grip on me.

i am the sea
and you think you are a submarine
completely submerged
in the deepest part of me,
but you are a boat
barely touching the surface of the water.
and the only way to let you in
is to fill you up
with me.

they fell into
a sea of words
and drowned side by side
in silence.

The dead rest and I rest with them
under the shade of the maple leaves.
Their world is cold, eternal, cramped;
mine: sunny, free,
temporary.
We share a home but they are confined
while I am free to roam and wander,
or lie upon their mossy bed as I read
about yet another world -
Imaginary; existing somewhere in between.
People come and go as the day drags on.
Sunlight glints off the headboards.
They arrive slowly. Leave quickly.
We stay.
The air is fragrant with the scent of freshly turned soil; their blanket, my bedsheet. This is a land of peace
and I am a guest,
temporarily.

You mention that you're tired.
They tell you that you're weak.
You say you had five hours of sleep,
They say that's what they had all week.

It's not that your day didn't ****,
It's just that theirs was worse.
Your uncle's in the hospital?
Well, theirs is in a hearse.

You share a funny story, then,
Some memory you miss,
Only to have them respond with,
"Wait 'till you hear this-"

It's not that you're not funny,
You may be humorous.
It's just that they happen to be
A little more hilarious.

At some point, conversation,
On your end, goes bone dry.
You're left feeling dejected
And don't seem to know why.

The motive of the One-Upper
Is still an open question.
Just make sure you aren't one-
Is my one suggestion.

There is no brother worse than you,
Or any brother better.
I guess you’re turning out alright,
Sometimes your jokes are clever.

You wake up when I come from work,
Pretend you’re doing homeschool.
Your sneakers were two hundred bucks,
They barely even look cool.

If you’re not in the car in five,
Oh well, too bad, you’re walking.
Sometimes you tell me to shut up
When I’m not even talking.

Your taste in music is the worst,
But not worse than your omelettes.
Last time I checked under your bed,
I found your stash of chocolates.

You never know how to react
When someone compliments you.
“Timmy, thanks for making brownies”
“Shut up, before I slap you.”

You read like three survival books
And fixed up an old longboard.
Sometimes I hate driving with you
Because you steal the aux chord.

Overall, you’re pretty decent.
Your hygiene could use some work.
Just slap yourself once in a while
So you don’t become a ****.

Two years into adulting.
It’s possible, who knew?
I look the same as yesterday
But today I’m twenty two!

Dentist trips still freak me out,
Sometimes I burn an egg.
My blanket covers both my feet,
So monsters won’t grab my leg.

I don’t go out on Friday night,
My ankles feel the weather.
And when I help the kids with homework,
We both learn math together.

Sometimes I’ll burst out crying
For no reason at all.
I know the words to one rap song,
And still prefer guys tall.

My puns are all intended,
There is a spoon I hate,
I’ll never mix my whites and brights,
I can’t stay up too late.

My life has been a wild ride
But I’m thankful for each day.
One day I hope to be mature,
One day... but not today.

The train has departed.
I’m in an unfamiliar town.
Unfamiliar faces all around me
I want to belong here
But there is no comfort.
I’m roaming with no destination.
Underneath the facade
I am screaming,
Searching for familiarity.
I keep searching and panic sets in.
I can’t find it.
I don’t feel it.
There must be a reason why I’m still here,
Why I’ve been left behind.
I’m lost and afraid and
Nobody will help me
But they’re watching
Waiting.
I don’t belong here.
I want to run, but
My feet are chained down.
So I sit down
And I wait
As if it was my choice.

my branch bends
with the weight of
ripe fruit
and my basket is empty.

the keeper's yellow canary dwelt in her cage,
          her smooth, silky feathers untouched,
    tucked gently to her sides,
as she listened to the soothing quivers of her own beating heart.
and when came morning,
her joyful song echoed all around,
illuminating even the darkest shadows
of her beloved keeper's heart.

but alas, the day had come:
      the keeper left the gate unhinged.
it beckoned freedom,
   whispered chances,
and with a ruffle of those dainty wings,
the keeper's yellow canary
fled home.

days, weeks, a month had passed,
the keeper waited for her return
       searching for a glimpse of yellow,
              the only color he had truly known,
hopeful,
    but afraid
his heart has found another home.

and then, come nightfall,
he saw the bird under his window
  the perfect feathers he once knew
        were torn and mangled,
stained deep red.

he lifted her
and cradled her broken wings in his palms
until they were whole again.
and then he placed her gently in her cage,
sealing the gate forever.
vowing never again
     to let her taste her freedom.

When I was young and still quite dumb,
I tried out something just for fun.
I didn’t know if it would work,
My sister said I was berserk.

Feeling a little bit too clever,
I tied a few bed sheets together.
Then tied the sheet rope to the bed
“Please hold my weight”, I silently begged.

I opened the window, dropped the rope,
And for the best I only hoped.
With both my arms around the twine,
I started inching down the line.

Then, suspended in mid air,
I heard the rope begin to tear,
And with a rather dreadful sound,
From two floors up I plummeted down.

Around mid fall I heard a crack,
I landed, grunting, on my back.
My head felt dizzy, my finger ached;
The whole length of my back was scraped.

I walked home limping in a shame.
For there was no one else to blame.
Oh, and one thing worse than my broken finger?
My entire family watching from the window.

first love is
a candle flame
you watch from afar,
admiring its red hues,
enchanted
by its tenderness,
yearning
for its comfort
but then you allow yourself
to get too close,
letting the passion consume you,
not feeling the burn
until
you are reduced to ashes