talking, talking, talking— radio silence
the space that nothingness fills is almost violent
yelling, yelling, yelling— something's working
uncovering ugly truths that have been lurking
crying, crying, crying— because it's broken
there is just too much that we let go unspoken

Time to the storks
moved as a wheel moves -
it was going in a circle but moving in its track.

They were on time this year- as they were on time every year.
They gracefully landed in the high above places
where they nested every year.

The oldest was Mr. Stork who lived on top
of the townhouse's chimney that was last seen puffing
back in Febuary 2001.


Somewhere in his wings he remembers
distant memories of a missing family
but that was oh so long ago.



The first few weeks were proper with the darling sun,
the children shouting and pointing, the spring soil wet,
the snowdrops, the tulips and whatnot things moving.




But then the snow came back.
From nowhere.
And it scared everything away.




It scared the people, the flowers, the sun and the food,
the warmth in his feathers, the red in his  beak
and he was now dipped in a sickly purple.





And the air was white from the ice, and he
who was mostly silent,was forced to call out
as his nest was coming undone.






And the wheel fell off its track.
And his calls remained unanswered..

‘Incorporate music’
But how when there’s no structure to the cacophony you’ve conceived?
No cadence,
imperfect or otherwise,
to resolve the constant clashing,
the bashing,
of keys in your head that won’t silence.

Is this violent dissonance tuneful to those who aren’t the instrument?

There was a reason I unfriended you in November of 2016, but my heart won't let the rest of my body do what your president does so well like hate, discriminate, let ignorance drive. with the click of this accept I am far from forgiving who you choose to align yourself with. I just do what people of your party does so well like forget. like, forget the humans has rights no matter what shade of skin you are, or where your place of birth is. I'll just forget the all lives matter posts to my black lives matter post. I'll just forget........

A sea of buttery happiness
Is home to the roundest of islets
Side by side they wallow.

Quite naturally, the islands,
Are covered in ham.
Ham? Ham!
And lazily perched
On the hams highest point
Sits an avian sphere
Perfectly poached.

Straining against its
White little straight jacket.
Pop.

The truth is that I love you, and that
I always will. Helpless and hopeless
romantics dream of love like this. For
the longest of times, I dreamt of the
perfect lover. I wondered how much
sweeter life would be if I found myself
in the arms of the man I love. The longer
I waited and every mishap along the way
led me straight to you. I, now, yearn for
the passionate kisses you place upon my
lips. I live for your steady breaths that
give my restless soul peace. Hearts like
yours are the reasons why I remained a
believer.  Your warmth never goes astray,
and your faith gives me strength. Although
each heart withholds the same amount of
adoration, theirs will never be like yours.