#2013
“The saddest poem ever wrote
Was not yours, where you titillate
with daring words
Razors, pills etc.,
The saddest poem ever writ
Was this one, a meager vanity to capture a
Sunset that keeps trying every day to
Surpass
Supersede
Its previous glorious failure,
Like we should too.
Keep trying.
Now, I shall rest,
For I know that soon I shall see, feel, think,
Of something new that will make me eager to
Write a new poem.”
(2013)
more for thee, than me (2026)
August 3~5, 2013
Apr 3
Apr 3, 2026 at 11:06 PM UTC
How I Observed the Day of Atonement
If you are unfamiliar with day and its observance,
See http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yom_Kippur
In a place of perfect solitude,
No crowded synagogue within to hide,
No cantor to intercede on my behalf,
I spoke words of mine own creation
To my creator who wisely empowers me
To judge myself, for knowing, none harsher,
We two,
Old travel companions,
Upon worn grayed, adirondacke thrones,
We overlooked,
A natural prayer place,
Bay and breeze, white-clouded and sun-laced.
Only the full time inhabitants, the animals,
Grayling butterflies to match and contrast,
Eavesdropping on our Greek dialogos, in this,
Palace of Perfect Solitude.
Amiable did we chat,
I of family, this and that.
He, wearied from recent travel,
To Syria and India,
Was glad for a day off,
For he had little to do,
But wait for twilight,
To then close the books.
For us no formality, easy the going,
No prosecutor no defender in residence,
For we exchange these roles intermittently,
The incriminatory, the penance, all deeds displayed,
No adult games of winking eyes, and
Hidden heart, secret chambers,
Rabbinical or angelic intercession.
He does so love his Bach,
Adagio on strings,
My soothing gift to him,
This music more than divine.
He returned this courtesy.
Warming sun to expose my chest,
Cooling genteel breeze offsetting,
The bay emptied of wayfaring skiffs and yachts.
A cooling beverage proffered,
But sighing, he said that he had yet to find
A beverage that his kind of thirst could slake.
For his eyes, tho shining, did not effervesce,
As when we shared this day in years past.
Too much killing, this year,
It tires me so to tabulate human excess,
Spoke not a word, for my critique would
Comfort him less, if at all.
Thanks for Kol Nidre, he plainted,
So I too can disavow,
The best intended oaths I took and take,
For each year, I fail more than the year before.
If only I could sit with each,
As I do with you,
Where what needs saying,
Is said, understood, undisguised as praying.
A schooner to the dock did appear,
For him it attended, for him, it waited,
Sails, both black and white.
He stood to depart, my arms-grasped, taken, he graphing,
Measuring my fortitude, my strengths, my divinity.
I do so love this day in your company.
I shall sit with you again one year on,
Bach sweet when next we meet, please.
Soft spoke, as almost I should not hear,
Your time is nigh, no thing I create is forever.
He spoke with such sadness,
For well I knew, the intent, his meaning.
He, for-himself, saddened, for he loved
Sitting beside me in this manner,
Since my inception, never deception,
Only He resting easy, when he atoned before me,
And I gave him his absolution conditional,
As he gave me,
mine
<nml>
Oct 2, 2025
Oct 2, 2025 at 8:44 AM UTC
~~~~
~for Isabel (‘30), Alexander (‘31), and Wendy (‘35)~
~~~~
In a place of perfect solitude,
No crowded synagogue within to hide,
No cantor to intercede on my behalf,
I spoke words of mine own creation
To my Creator
Who wisely empowers me
To judge myself, for knowing,
None harsher
We two,
Old travel companions,
Upon worn grayed, Adirondack thrones,
We overlooked
A natural prayer place,
Bay and breeze, white-clouded, sun-laced.
Only the full time inhabitants,
the animals,
Grayling butterflies to match and contrast,
Eavesdropping on our Greek dialogo,
In this holy place,
Palace of Perfect Solitude
Amiable did we chat,
I, of family, this and that
He,
wearied from recent travel,
To Syria and India,
Was glad for a day off,
For He had little to do,
But wait for twilight,
To then close the books
For us no formality, easy the going,
No prosecutor, no defender in residence,
For we exchanged these roles intermittently,
The incriminatory, the penance, all deeds displayed,
No adult games of winking eyes, and
Hidden heart, secret chambers,
Rabbinical or angelic intercession
He does so love his Bach,
Adagio on strings,
My soothing gift to him,
This music more than divine
He returned this courtesy
Warming sun to expose my chest,
Cooling genteel breeze offsetting,
sunset color palette spectacular,
The bay emptied of wayfaring skiffs and yachts.
A cooling beverage proffered,
But sighing, He said that he had yet to find
A beverage that could ever slake
his kind of thirst
For his eyes, tho shining, did not effervesce,
As when we shared this day in years past
Too much killing, this year,
It tires Me so to tabulate human excess,
Spoke not a word, for my critique would
Comfort him less,
if at all
Thanks for Kol Nidre, He plainted,
So I too can disavow,
The best intended oaths I took and take,
For each year, I fail more than the year before.
If only I could sit with each,
As I do with you,
Where what needs saying,
Is said, understood,
Undisguised as praying
A schooner to the dock did appear,
For Him it attended, for Him, it waited,
Sails, wind whipped,
Sails, both black and white.
He stood to depart, my arms-he-grasped,
Me-taken, he-graphing,
Measuring my fortitude, the strength,
of my divine spark
I do so love this day in your company.
I shall sit with you again one year on,
Bach sweet, when next we meet, please
Soft spoke, as almost I should not hear,
Your time is nigh, no thing I create is forever.
He spoke with such sadness,
For well I knew, the intent, his meaning.
He,
for-himself, saddened, for he loved
Sitting beside me in this manner,
Since my inception, never a deception
Only He resting easy,
when He atoned before me,
And I gave him His absolution conditional,
As he gave me,
mine
Aug 11, 2020
Aug 11, 2020 at 12:39 PM UTC
nothing lasts forever
you only live once
|
so live
your life not anyone else's life..
take chances and never regret,
never be late to do what you want to do
right now
because at one point
someday
everything you did
Feb 10, 2020
Feb 10, 2020 at 4:40 AM UTC
i descend into what i believe
to transcend into moments of you
like dark hues under eyes i used to pour into
i break into motions with men i fought on a darkened end
of streets where i scoured to find signs in the night
like which way to write, which way was right
and i prose you in thought
a slumber in deep hum
a hymn to a rhythm, a tango i once fought
in front of desire and passion
the way you hold a lighter in echoed moments
from mountains atop midnight
where i eclipse my mind and transcend to find out
how i used to sleep at night
in dire moments with a rhythm of you
as we’re slow dancing to a cause i fail to see
yet hide to ignore
because beauty sees and the ego hides in what it wants
like melting with you
holding onto past mirages of men in might
in false knight armor
darkened elixirs to bring desire
i paint you a picture
for what you want to see
i breathe you into a world where
i paint you to be
how i’d like to see
how i’d like you to be
how the fog at night masked you to be
in summer of thirteen
Jan 21, 2019
Jan 21, 2019 at 12:35 AM UTC
An innocent born into darkness,
A life unknown to be so graceless.
A world without colour,
This life like no other.
Below the depths of this flesh,
A girl lives craving new breath.
Stolen was her beating heart,
Given to loneliness, consumed as a withered spark.
The biggest dreams swim in her mind,
The longest amount of time goes by.
A slave to abuse, a slave to misery.
Will she escape from the chains to find victory?
Fortitude is what she seeks,
Peace and love is what she needs.
A life ready to begin and restart,
Her life ready to fight her way through the dark.
A journey has started, her journey awaits.
An adventure she'll recall,
has her saving grace.
“Arise” she screams,
“Arise and be...”
“Arise and be all that you dreamed!”
Oct 9, 2017
Oct 9, 2017 at 6:44 PM UTC
The reflection came too late
and now
I must wait,
for the mirror is
fogged.
Dogged by the memory
of the years
that passed by me,
I see shadows,
halo's of lights.
I fight my way up
no use staying here
not when the new year
is on the horizon..
It's funny.
I always trust being
on the cusp.
Dec 31, 2016
Dec 31, 2016 at 4:51 AM UTC
World how dare you persecute me.
World how dare you judge me.
World how dare you trumpet me.
How dare you push me to the ground;
Having me fall so hard, I dare to doubt I'd ever stand.
How dare you fill my head with your lies,
Lies of corruption, hate and uncleanliness.
For have you not been told? I am;
Gods untouchable.
For it is my God who makes all the injustice not last long.
For it is my God who cures, cleans and constructs.
Persueing, protecting and perplexly loving me.
World , the hold you have will never last.
For my God is a God of everything, anything , entirely out of love for his children.
So world, don't you dare ever think you have an upper hand.
For I do believe in a God that lives
Nov 20, 2016
Nov 20, 2016 at 11:01 AM UTC
I'm trapped in here,
I can't get out
"Somebody help me!
Please help me," I shout.
I'm bound by the hands,
With steel crushing my heart
I can barely stand
So I just fall apart
I'm giving up hope
Of living happily after,
Of a life spent with her
And all of our laughter.
I gave away my heart
Now my heart won't come back.
Was I doomed from the start?
Or is it faith that I lack?
I'm bound up in chains
Chained up like monster
Still filled with pain
Over the fact that I lost her.
How is it possible for me to move on?
Moving on with out any hope.
Hope died like memories fade, sinking into the dawn.
A new Dawn binding my feet like rope.
Still I am told I must pick myself up,
For who else is there to lend me a hand
Or to hand me a way to improve my "luck",
Though, luck's never made a man stand.
I thought all this time that "us" was a blessing,
The blessing that kept us together.
Instead, now I'm left constantly guessing.
Guessing what kept us from forever.
Now I'm trapped in a nightmare where nothing has changed
Save for the change of a loved one lost,
I'm lost in a world from which I feel so estranged,
Estranged from love, a lost-love's cost.
I cannot escape from this terrible dream,
Dreaming of days long gone.
Gone, I have gone and died it would seem.
Seemingly nothing can make me strong.
11/21/13
Nov 3, 2016
Nov 3, 2016 at 11:38 PM UTC
I’m not loud,
I’m not aloud,
I’m not allowed.
I’m the exception.
I’m the definition.
I’m the truth and the dark.
I don’t bite but watch out for my
bark
peeling off.
Cover your eyes so you can see
what’s oozing out of me,
the radiation gleam.
Obscene dream,
ladies in Vaseline.
Malignant wishes from a benign entity.
Change everything.
I carry water and arrows and my hooves smash the stars.
Peregrinus.
Jun 20, 2016
Jun 20, 2016 at 3:08 PM UTC
I put you on a lifeboat and watched you sail safely through,
As I drowned in the ice cold waters thinking about you.
I've struggled and faught to keep my head afloat
In hopes that you'll come back for me in your little lifeboat.
We did our best to avoid the iceberg, or so I like to think
But being the Titanic we were doomed, bound to sink.
And we broke so quickly, like it was out of the blue.
Turns out love isn't a strong enough glue.
So here I swim in the freezing sea of sorrow
Hoping to find warmth in a better tomorrow.
I can try to pretend, pretend that I'm not sinking,
But all the while I can't stop myself from thinking.
Thinking that if I can just stay afloat for a while
You'll come sailing by in your little lifeboat with a smile.
But you won't come, you've already reached dry land.
So I struggle for my life, for anyone to lend their hand.
I can only hope that hand comes before I freeze.
Oh Lord, send me my own little lifeboat, please.
12/17/13
Jun 11, 2016
Jun 11, 2016 at 11:10 PM UTC
I will always love you until the day I die.
And this so often makes me cry,
That even with this love we can't stay together,
Still, that will never stop me from loving you forever
12/11/13
Jun 8, 2016
Jun 8, 2016 at 11:35 PM UTC
If I were to get hurt
If I nearly died
Would you stop what you're doing
Just to be by my side?
Or would you live like I didn't exist
As if you didn't even know
Carrying on with your life
Not a feeling for me to show?
Would you not shed a tear
Nor let me hold you near
And instead walk away
Like it were any other day?
If I were to get sick,
If I nearly died
Would you not find yourself
Right there by my side?
If anything at all
But to tell me at least,
That you liked me as tall,
That I was one handsome beast?
If I nearly died
and just layed there in bed
Would you stay by my side
With sweet words to be said?
Would you give me your hand
That I'd have something to hold
Would you show me your smile
So I wouldn't feel so cold?
Even if I were to eventually get better
And after, we still went our own ways
At least I could live life knowing
That you came to me in those days
For if you were to get sick
If you nearly died
I would make sure to find out
And then rush to your side.
I would give you my hand
So that you'd have something to hold
I'd wrap my arms around you
So that you wouldn't be cold.
For if you really nearly did die
I'd thank God that you were still alive
And oh so many tears I would cry
From joy in knowing that you'd survive.
I hope this never happens to you
Though perhaps maybe to me
Because that might be the only way
That your beautiful smile I'll get to see.
If I were to get hurt,
If I was about to die,
Would you tell me you love me?
Or would that just be a lie...
11/6/13
Mar 4, 2016
Mar 4, 2016 at 12:18 AM UTC
I’m scared of permanence
Of any form of an ink stain on a white linen shirt
That no matter how hard I try, the scrubbing I do
Will not disappear, will not fade
One day I will come across a stain that will ******* me
And as I attempt to rid it, it will damage me further
This shirt I wear, lies lightly on my skin. A second skin.
I want to be involved yet fear an embrace
Or rather, confuse being held to being held down
Wings being clipped, screams that fall to deaf ears that cannot hear because what I fear doesn’t exist…
The fear keeps me from playing the game, yes,
But can it keep the game from playing me?
Sep 4, 2015
Sep 4, 2015 at 7:13 PM UTC
I weigh a little over a hundred pounds
and some say, I do not weigh enough
my steps do not sink deep enough
“You weigh nothing”
“I could just carry you around”
Someone could easily lift me
When I’m carried,
Suddenly, weights combine and their footprints become more
defined
But it’s not my steps, I do not leave anything behind
And I think
Not enough of me exists
To make an impression
Jul 26, 2015
Jul 26, 2015 at 7:09 PM UTC
I’m a breaker, at best
and at my worst, I’m broken
I can still remember the pauses
after every word that was spoken
my room is dark, I don’t quite feel alone
I don’t really miss you like i thought I would
~
My hair grows long, I think I can breathe easy
Yet sometimes, when I feel you round, I get queasy
No, I wouldn’t miss you if I could
No, but you definetely should
Jul 26, 2015
Jul 26, 2015 at 7:35 PM UTC
2013:
The year I graduated 8th grade
The year I went to my first real party
In 2013 I learned to braid
I told myself "Everyone leaves"
And I had my first crush.
Little did I know I was about to grieve.
2013 was the thanksgiving that I had my heart broken.
I thought I knew what hurt was
In 2013 my first real hurt was spoken
2014:
My teacher died
My church stepped down a little
My friend became a bride
I found my God.
I realized that life (love) isn't always easy
Yet every day I was awed
In May I had my best friend restored.
My heart was almost healed.
But even so, it was ignored.
I realized that everyone changes.
I decided I wanted to be a teacher.
I learned that life is not all about my own exchanges.
Present:
Tears still fall.
Friends still leave
But all in all
I think I'm doing better
Than I was before.
I feel freed from my fetters.
My bonds that never left
That came back every day.
And I'm still bereft
Some people will stay.
This I have learned.
But I'm doing okay.
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 12:35 PM UTC
please.
only **** me
when i ask you to
so i wont need to ask
why
every time
you take my breath away
Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 7:35 AM UTC
Christmas is the time for heartbreaking Trócaire ads,
The time when decorations are put up by Dads.
Children are told stories of old.
Broken souls sit in the cold.
Big families arrange for big Christmas meals.
Dust cover young, chapped heels.
Santa and his reindeer fly across the sky.
When yet another hot season slowly passes by.
Christmas is a time when we all exchange gifts.
As just another angel lifts.
Choral chants assemble at front doors with sheets.
While the homeless continue to wander the streets.
The incandescence of lights fill our black,
When the darkest world still remains behind our back.
We receive the joys and the magic.
They only feel the tears and damage.
We have two worlds:
The First and the Third.
We live in the one with a Christmas..
But they live in the world that is still unheard.
Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 5:21 PM UTC
Yeats said romance was gone and dead,
Back in the day when most tears were shed.
Times when the IRA were up and strong,
Days when they could be seen doing wrong.
Not right now, when its just biased times;
The next Love/Hate enlightening their "newest" crimes.
Our time does differ from the old.
And if Yeats could talk right now, a different story would be told.
We're due a time when they all come home
Cross the shores and along they come.
Times when they are safe to stay,
Unlike the war years when they were forced away.
The times when Yeats said our heroes did us good.
Now, no novelty, no heroes: villains. Although, there should.
President Higgins, the 9th to stand.
Who speaks of "our own Aisling" in this shared land.
Our time does differ from the old.
And if Yeats could talk right now, a different story would be told.
A hundred years, we're still the same.
When the "recession" is so easy to blame.
A choice that Sinn Fein never got to make,
Lead by Kenny, the government's mistake.
Choices made, nor law but religion.
Medical misadventures under moral obligation.
A jury given a choice of two verdicts: one story,
Savita's death, goes down in history.
Our time does differ from the old.
And if Yeats could talk right now, a different story would be told.
Our time when networks send youths to their grave,
An earlier landing caused by how others behaved.
Still mothers shed tears upon the pit of their sons,
Ashes to ashes, a new war has begun.
But, a type that is different in a virtual way,
For the past is the past and today is today.
That's how our times differ to those of 1913
And if Yeats were here right now, what real difference would be seen?
Nov 27, 2014
Nov 27, 2014 at 7:21 PM UTC
I am real
and constant
and confident.
I am a flood,
I am an exacting pressure.
I am alive
and alone
and I like it.
Oct 17, 2014
Oct 17, 2014 at 11:15 PM UTC