#poemaday
Two random strangers
Dance the entire night away —
The final clock strikes; tongues
Twist together; _knotted into one_
Afterwards their masks come off,
__Underneath:__ a bully… and the boy
she always bullied, _for fun_
__Happy New Year’s.__
Dec 12, 2025
Dec 12, 2025 at 2:20 PM UTC
my heart is under
attack and i
am hanging by
a thread
i try to cope,
and now i
choke on words
i should regret
i set my boundaries,
and now i feel
imaginary
like an unfinished
painting, the brush
lays there just dripping
reds and blues
just looking for a
different palette,
a different hue,
to give me a clue
it’ll change for
the best
now my heart is
under arrest
and i know life
is full of surprises
and tests
the sun will rise,
and the clouds will
lift
i have to keep my
spirits up
open my eyes,
and hope i won’t
collapse—
but rise instead
under the stress
Sep 27, 2025
Sep 27, 2025 at 9:25 AM UTC
When it flashes, I can't speak, except
in fra c tu
r ed gas p in
g
(I should be able to withstand the shocks much better than I do)
The vibrations, the detachment lasts for several minute after
the power has been discharged and
I can't think.
Emergency situations call for
level-headed judgement,
but the jolting of the volts is difficult to disregard.
My heat resets itself somehow each time
even though the rhythm is interrupted
time and over again with every blast my power creates.
I want to pull within myself every time I use it,
embrace the sense of power, the sensation,
without reaching out.
Brain activity,
heart activity, muscle spasmatic ripples,
and I can't see past sporadic sparking up my face.
Victims, villains, friends of mine
and all your detailed instructions,
please survive in spite of me.
They say I'm strongest on the team
in strength, and that is hard to say.
I'll stay with you and fight but my mind
can't live on another day.
Apr 2, 2020
Apr 2, 2020 at 12:52 PM UTC
There’s not much left,
other than a soft ash that covers the branches.
I could tell you it was angry,
I could tell you I’m covered in acid burns
Shaped like words, it hurts.
I could tell you the smoke filled my lungs
to the brim,
And left lesions of soot
across my low beating heart
At least everything is still.
There are no more leaves,
the only hum I hear
is the ringing in my ears,
and the tears,
are dry now, too.
I could tell you how comely
this all looks
The destruction, the debris-
but you deserve your own pity;
Abandon me with mine.
Nov 18, 2019
Nov 18, 2019 at 4:10 PM UTC
i am afraid of
"what will happen?"
when we say goodbye.
i am afraid of
"how will i feel with this pain?"
i hold inside.
* * *
i haven't opened up to
another in so long
i've begun to realize
i'm not as strong
as i thought i've been
through all these years
i should have known
based off all the tears
i've cried for reasons
i have no words to explain
all i want is to
be in control of my brain
emotions make me feel
entirely overwhelmed
my only defense now
is to hide in my own shell
i want to feel better
than how i think of myself
i know it is possible
for me to learn how to help
my own thought process out
of this hole that i've dug
maybe i can start by
holding myself in a hug
Nov 2, 2019
Nov 2, 2019 at 5:55 PM UTC
Went out to pay tribute,
headed out west.
Seems Santa Monica is filled with LA's best.
Where have we come?
Where ego survives before your own son?
You keep buying that **** your fed since birth
Ignorance is the summation of your net worth
No.
I don't abide.
I've seen it happen.
I just watched it with my own two eyes.
Sadly, I'm not surprised.
Dressed up kids **** good vibes
May 24, 2018
May 24, 2018 at 9:32 PM UTC
it's a loaded term.
branded and historically stern.
While the shadow still remains
after the setting sun --
your pain will remain.
This is the ORIGIN of shame.
Have you not learned?
how They play game?
paint us out to be insane.
I wasn't given a choice.
I was given a name.
-- that i haven't changed.
May 17, 2018
May 17, 2018 at 7:59 PM UTC
If you find yourself in constant dismay
About your life, the world at large or simply **** today
You have two paths to walk and one ends colorless and grey
You sat and did nothing, but had plenty to say.
What is that contribution that you speak?
Being in tune with the news and the daily beat?
Have you tuned out so that you could actually hear?
The connection is deafening and you walk away filled with fear.
So make you choice now or accept your fate
Right now is the only thing that is certain and safe.
But if you prefer to project life beyond the now
There will be a time when you will realize the answer to the question:
How?
There are those who speak and inspire
That's good and fine
But can you call the actions of others your own
Or can I call them mine?
No.
You need to make something from nothing
You need to blow your mind
Or else you're wasting air
And you're wasting you're own time.
Apr 26, 2018
Apr 26, 2018 at 4:12 PM UTC
I've seen it now
mentioned twice
by poets in their lines
somehow I must have
missed
this mission that was assigned
I guess I wasn't quite
paying enough
attention
boy! I sure hope
I don't end up
in detention
I must have fallen asleep
in class
whoops!
better behave
cause
this way I'll never pass
I just found out
about
April's poem a day
oh well, too late now
perhaps I'll try it in May
Apr 7, 2018
Apr 7, 2018 at 8:03 PM UTC
I want a man whose heart is so full -
Rainwater dripping from the pitcher on the drizzled grey of yesterday,
A soft sound in the great symphony of the wet garden,
Bejeweled and glistening,
Pianoforte drops
Upon the wet leaves
Falling.
I will know him by the way he writes, the kindness in his eyes -
Flashes of him in my professor,
In myself, caught laughing like a child,
In the quiet teenager who is becoming an
Unlikely philosopher, frontal cortex in heat,
With the implications of existence
(He’s awake in the early dawn, a furious Jacob,
wrestling with his God)
And he will be a Seeker of Beauty:
“There is no medium unworthy”
He will tell me, but never in words,
Crouching for perfection’s grace among leaves and dirt
Like a widow beneath rainbow fractals
At early morning’s mass.
He will be effortless, like the unspoken love
Between two old friends, bookends
Scattering crumbs of baguettes in the park
To clicking beaks, and dancing pigeon feet.
Burying himself in pages, when he thinks no one sees
(Was that you there, on the subway?
Dark eyes, fixated on the lines,
Crinkling with understanding?)
Both of us adventurous spirits -
“Let’s run away, you and me” and we will
Melt with ease into cityscapes, so transparent, adaptive,
Young and free,
Like the wood moths becoming one
With the aspen in its serenity,
We light upon
France, Spain… Italy.
I know I will find him
In my own verse.
Will discover him
In pages that I’ve turned.
Will recite his thoughts back to him, and will
Love him like poetry.
I will know him by heart.
Feb 6, 2018
Feb 6, 2018 at 4:08 PM UTC
your happiness is my joy
your grief, my burden
I laugh when you laugh
I cry beside you
When you are angry, I lash out
I panic when you are anxious
but is it you or me?
and does it matter?
I am only built for my own emotions...
Jan 27, 2018
Jan 27, 2018 at 6:35 PM UTC
my thoughts are buzzing
my trains of thought colliding
what was I saying?
Jan 14, 2018
Jan 14, 2018 at 5:54 PM UTC
that feeling of making music with you
of singing
and harmonizing
is why I love a choir
Jan 13, 2018
Jan 13, 2018 at 1:01 AM UTC
sometimes it doesn't matter
that you're not as capable
as smart
as organized
as sociable
you are willing
willing to learn
willing to grow
that willingness you have?
that is enough
you are enough-
more than enough.
Jan 12, 2018
Jan 12, 2018 at 12:11 AM UTC
they will not live
they do not live
as I stare at the tank,
willing, hoping, praying for motion
nothing
they say the third time's the charm
we reassure each other
as we pour the remains away
so many regrets on choosing brine shrimp
my initial joy in the lab goes down the drain
with the dead
brine shrimp
Jan 9, 2018
Jan 9, 2018 at 10:48 PM UTC
an immortal of ice
his brother barely human, only human
human enough to love
Jan 8, 2018
Jan 8, 2018 at 8:52 PM UTC
She brought in a jar of glowing mushrooms
with an insincere smile, put them down
from them spread a mold, that spread rapidly on the walls
and the house fell...
Jan 7, 2018
Jan 7, 2018 at 1:11 AM UTC
Poetry
wordy, enlightening
writing, singing, living
speaking true / another point of view
drawing, painting, creating
representation, uplifting
Art
Jan 4, 2018
Jan 4, 2018 at 8:59 PM UTC
Do memories make a man?
If who I am is grounded in my experiences,
as I age, do I lose myself?
And if I lose myself,
where do I go?
Jan 3, 2018
Jan 3, 2018 at 4:03 PM UTC
You know this is all yours,
I mean,
Who else
Could it possibly be for?
Jun 22, 2016
Jun 22, 2016 at 5:15 PM UTC
Made my morning
much much easier
Doing everything that
I was told to never do.
Wake up with wine
A glass at a time
And at least three
Puffs of Cuckoo Chi.
Before that I **** myself.
Or, with luck, a PYT,
Who promises me
She’s on the pill.
And if not, Oh
Well, I’m sure “Zanir”
wasn’t her government name.
It took close to twenty-three years
To shake off the agony of daytime.
There was no place for me in the
Systematic sunlight. Or, at least,
Not one that I could see. But now
I’ve got a bottle, ½ full of optimistic
Alcoholism. I manage the condition
With a bit of cinnamon, spiced into
Steel cut oats and W.A. Elderberries.
Admitting what you don’t understand
While trusting that you know yourself
Is the last, if not only, human freedom.
Social expectation &
Psychic ambiguation.
Don’t take refuge in the familiar
Without first hugging your weird.
Comfort traps aren’t new,
Just the latest edition in:
That’s How They Get You.
Sep 5, 2015
Sep 5, 2015 at 12:26 PM UTC
Not an entirely reliable structure
No years of cultivated security
But I can tuck my life neatly inside
Almost any opportunity.
Waited for years.
I made my move
Two backpacks
And one suitcase
Surreal is all
I’ve felt so far
Aside from lost
In love and why.
Ask yourself a question
Without immediately
Volunteering the answer.
If you know enough to ask
Then you should know
That you don’t really know.
Sep 4, 2015
Sep 4, 2015 at 3:30 PM UTC