~
How did a dead man in Reno
come to be a field of ink
in the Martian salt flats-?

It only took a whisper

An addicted civilian
driving the metaphor machine
the last man to voluntarily fly
asleep and well hidden
writing about his life
without survival techniques

Autopsy report says
he slipped at the hand rail
blemishing his planet
in riding time's escalator
a longing to see the stars up close
and give them new names
it's the future grim repasts
of cullen shores
from a cancelled earth

That silently floating figure
was a human all along
~

You stirred the ***.
Taking parts of you.
Parts of me.
The good, the bad.
Even the things that aren’t
So pretty to look at.
And poured them into
The pan.
It’s easy to forget about
The hurt until you come
Face to face with it.
Sour peaches aren’t the end
Of the world.
No matter how we layer it.
These are the things we’ve
Come to love about each other.
Even the hurt becomes mixed
In a sugar glaze with enough time.
No matter how bitter.
The brown of my skin
Mixed with yours.
A recipe that’s been done
And passed down before our time.
No matter how much of a mess
We think that things are,
No matter how bruised a peach
We accidentally pick up.
Nothing can replace the warmth
Of a cobbler.
Straight from the oven.
Soon we’ll both be fast asleep.
Your head rising and falling on my chest
With each breath I take.

When I kick the bucket
I want it to be proper rusted,
zinc exposing steel.

When I kick the bucket
I want it recognisably mine,
a signature rattle.

When I kick the bucket
I want it made into a planter.
I want my bucket to bloom.

When I look up at my ancestors and the struggles of my family tree
I realised I was made from bleeding hands and shattered hope
Pouring their lives from cup to cup, generation to generation
All the things they couldn’t be
I was made by them but also for them
Passing down onto me their tears and  hardships, and all their untold stories
You see, they chose me
To uphold their legacy, unravel their truth
Breath the air and smell the soil of places they could never see
I was made to be everything they weren’t allowed to dream
My path will sooth their pain
I am meant to live loud and carry their sacrifices as my war cry

I can’t reach you, you far off,
you unborn, you yet to come.
I can’t reach you, touch you.
converse and engage you.
I can’t reach you, embrace you,
you beholders beyond my borders.
But my love invested,
my ripples,
in time, just might.

You didn’t know you found your very own Icarus.
She seeks the sky
Full of pride
Full of belief
—she can do better than those who came before her.

She has spent years fawning over those wings of wax—
Denying realities of
Gravity’s fatal pull,
Rejecting effects of
Scorching heat.

She doesn’t want you to stop her
(Though she loves you because she knows you’ll try).

Just like those who came before her,
She understands there is but one moment to
Feel the sun,
The gilded air,
Before burning up
Or crashing into eternal shade.

tender love and care
unfold, allow myself to share
all of these precious gems
before their existence is solely tied to mine
if an isolated man dies
who will tell the story of his tries
of his cries, of his lowest lows and highest highs
the way he spoke, his piercing eyes
tender love and care
i give with each breath i take

Dear Father

I hope you found sleep tonight
You’ve come in off the field of play
You’ve put away your sword and armour
Nothing more to say

Rest your warring mind
No need now to rage
Against the rising of the tide
The long night is upon you

The golden wheat stands ripe
As you stride through the field
Let peace run through your fingers
No need to hold so tight

Your work here is done
The battle not over
But your part played
We will carry the day
Let your tired bones rest

I wonder what gifts did you bestow
We unknowingly don lightly
Unaware your legacy is informing
Our daily lives with small moments

Little things that trip us up
All unknowingly speaking
Of a man gone but not forgotten
I hope you found sleep tonight

I shed a quite tear
Writing this in the still dark
Before the dawn light seeps
Across the rim of the world
Breaking held breathe
I hope you found sleep tonight

Are you resting quietly
In your imagined eternal night
Or delighting in the halls of your fathers
Raising a glass in silent salute
A small smile upon your face

I hope you found sleep tonight

Not lost as much as misplaced,
gone from where you should be
in bosoms of families
and conspiracies of friends
still adding your narrative arc,
your author’s hand

It is for us to ape your style,
continue your quirks and syntax
so the story, like these spring bouquets
will bloom well

Theodore left an unknown legacy to himself and to everyone, in American history.
That two hundred years from now, women’s children’s, children, children will learn about Ted Bundy and his devious wrongdoings back in the simple, maniacal, chaotic nineteen-seventies.

When his hopeless, vulnerable innocent victims that weren’t able to make it, didn’t get the
opportunity to
accomplish life’s greatest gifts, as their lives were just getting started. They didn’t get the
chance to become wives, mothers or grandmothers when they should’ve. As over forty years passed since those tragedies began, there’s still this reminder of : NEVER EVER AGAIN.

Monsters unknowingly appear in all shapes, sizes and even faces. They instantly appear right in front of your face in any place at any time of the day. Morn

They don’t hide under your bed, basement or inside your closet, like our parents told us in children’s folklore.

But right in front of you as you walk down the street in your friendly neighborhood, grocery store or taking the edge off  talking to a stranger from the long days work at some random local bar or coffee shop. They could even be your best friend.

You. Just. Don’t. Know.

It’s like whenever you see a vintage VW Beetle, driving down the street downtown or down your neighborhood street, fellow women all around must feel an internal bone-chilling shiver creep down their spine’s. That that warning is still there to watch out, whom you encounter with. To never help a man who is in need.


So take  this notion to be aware of all of your surroundings and be cautious of who, when and where you talk to. Lock your doors, windows and get a high-tech security system if you have to. Because you just never know, when your life will turn into a three-sixty mess in a matter of seconds.