#poignant
dear, it wasn't easy
yet endearing, chaos
but it wasn't pretty.
how can you blame me?
I envy the calmness
whim, the naive that
I've tried to protect,
was maimed and bruised.
how I became like this?
I cherished you, to consume
and to be consumed,
I'm more than a ghost
or a burglar in act;
it was my whole life.
my dear, it was sweet but death
becomes me; how cruel it is.
May 22
May 22, 2026 at 9:17 PM UTC
They call it madness when a man
knows the rain by name
and still walks out to meet it.
I have been versed in your absence
longer than most people
have been fluent in love.
The distance between us
is not geography.
It is the only honest thing
either of us has said.
Some call this devotion.
I call it reckoning.
The body keeps its own marks —
what it opened for,
what it refused,
what it memorized
without ever being asked.
You were the question
my nerves veins
answered before I could.
They buried me in
the machinery of it.
They were thorough.
They were certain.
I am what germinates.
Dark is where —
the deciding happens.
There are people watching
who have already written the verdict.
They are not wrong about the facts.
If you understood these tears
they would be pearls.
Else it is just the sea.
See I'm not ashamed
of the ocean
I apparently contain.
I have looked for you
in every city that moves too fast
to notice it's grieving.
You were the one thing
I couldn't make legible
by studying harder.
Take the crown.
Take the palace
and everything you needed
me to stop feeling.
I kept the knowing.
I keep the feeling.
The seed doesn't negotiate
with the soil
about what it intends to become.
May 16
May 16, 2026 at 6:00 PM UTC
I was still grieving on the unfinished letter that sits in a corner where I promised not to look back; I know, I'll be scathing, mending but the thread of fates stirred up that faith.
You know that I'll give everything, through those cracks where I can't see myself, hiding behind the constellations, and then it becomes a body.
Do you still see me? do you still adore me? If heavens were to console me, it only wished to be with you.
May 16
May 16, 2026 at 10:49 AM UTC
I took my son to the lumberyard last Tuesday afternoon.
The day itself, though toasty, was the best in quite some time.
And when we’d finished shopping - after loading what I’d bought
he glanced across the highway at the Woolworth’s Five and Dime.
“Dad,” he said, “you promised me, on more than one occasion
you’d take me into Woolworth’s for a shake… and, man… it’s hot!”
Truth is - he was right, and being 98 degrees,
I smiled to prove I didn’t mind he’d put me on the spot.
Fact is, twenty years ago, I’d worked there as a youngster,
just the way my dad had… and his father, Zachery, too!
Glancing down at Gavin, his expectant little grin
tipped the scales reminding me - his turn was overdue.
“Great idea,” I countered, as we hopped back in the pickup -
then headed ‘cross the road to browse a store we'd often shop.
The huge, two-story building -- there since 1896 --
was where, as kids, we’d often gone for licorice sticks and pop.
Mom and Gran were Woolworth's girls. It’s where they bought material you only see today in pictures taken long ago!
Amazing how the fashions change. Just check your oldest albums.
Once you’ve turned a page or two, I promise you… you’ll know.
What they wore, and how they wore their hair, is quite amusing.
Gavin held the door for me, then followed me on in.
I watched him as he scanned the place, his face transfixed in awe
as his mind absorbed the quaintness of - the way it was back then.
Dangling from the ceiling were a bunch of iron kettles,
lined up by their sizes, maybe six or seven rows.
Panning ‘round the massive room, like all first-timers do…
I smiled to watch my youngest being baffled by his nose.
Unfamiliar smells he’d never known were all around him.
The slightest trace of Black Jack - Clove - and Beeman’s filled the air.
Jars with sticks of peppermint and horehound lined the counter,
and ads for things extinct for years were posted everywhere.
The mesmerizing ambiance would captivate his thinking.
The wonderment that filled his mind was glowing on his face.
“Golly, Dad,” he fin’ly quipped, “you’re right about the feeling...
it’s just like stepping back in time. I really like this place!”
“So do I,” I countered. “Don’t forget… I used to work here!
And so’d my dad, and even his old man -- Great Grandpa Zach!”
We wandered through the whole **** store and though their goods were current, the unmolested store displays abruptly took us back.
By seeing things that older people always found in stores, like:
pants and jackets hung behind an aisle of sliding doors…
Several waist high counters lined with pencil-labeled drawers...
and escalators - (found in only those with second floors),
And watching, as it carried shoppers slowly up and down -
(those shiny, long, hypnotic stairways always turned my head) -
Gavin - now immersed in all the way-back-when nostalgia -
didn’t even notice it when - “It's time to go,” I said.
I placed my hand below his neck and steered him toward the counter.
The gorgeous marble, veined with greens and grays, was glowing bright.
A flower-blossom-figured shade with pink and olive panels
proudly crowned the soda fountain’s alabaster light.
I watched him read the labels on the row of syrup dispensers -
most providing flavors from a very distant time.
A few examples: Sarsaparilla -- Ginger Ale -- Banana --
Grape and Cherry Julep -- Dr. Pepper ---- even lime!
“Man, if I could get a job here,” Gavin softly said...
“they wouldn't have to worry about me showing up for work!”
That was when I spotted - near their tarnished old brass register,
a tiny notice advertising --- “Wanted – Soda ****
Gavin hadn’t seen it yet so I said, “Here’s a twenty...
order me a Ginger-Ale, and get yourself that shake.
And don’t forget, son - what you wind up doing for a living -
often proves - in 'Life' to mean much more than what you make!
“Hey, how about that register,” I added... “ain’t it classy?”
hoping, when he ordered, that he’d spot the little sign.
It worked. He fin’ly saw it. And as no surprise to me -
he spun around and found my face… locked his eyes on mine…
And beaming like he does when he’s excited, he announced -
“They’re lookin' for a soda **** Can you believe it, Dad?"
I felt a little nervous when I paused to contemplate -
this would be the first and only job he'd ever had!
Glad he’d asked, despite the fact I had some reservations --
(he’d had his sixteenth birthday only seven days before) --
There he stood imploring me to offer him my blessing,
all fired up, anticipating working in that store.
“Tell her - when she brings our drinks, you’d like an application.
Working in a place like this ‘d really do ya' good.
I talked to Mom the other day and left it up to her
if you could get a job or not, and she agreed you could.”
He filled the application out while snarfing down his milkshake,
took it to the office, then we headed toward the door.
“Golly, Dad,” he told me, as we headed off for home,
“I can’t think of anything I’ve ever wanted more!”
“I really hope you get it, son,” I told him as I drove,
“‘cause not too many stores like that have stood the test of time,
And I’d be tickled pink if generation number 4
would hold the job of - 'Soda Jerk' - in that old 'Five an' Dime'!
Nov 15, 2025
Nov 15, 2025 at 1:04 PM UTC
She keeps misery on her side,
Time and again her wits break a tide.
In prairie fields her mind runs;
With mindful and curious puns.
There she goes skimming through
For something uncalled but yet true.
Her eyes, rolling up and down,
Wearing dark circles like a crown.
Wonders and questions here and there;
Their answers dipped in sweet éclair.
She savors each flavor whole,
With no curiosity to pull a toll.
In Euphoria she goes beyond the skyline
Curious and ecstatic, a feminine Feline.
Jul 28, 2025
Jul 28, 2025 at 3:42 PM UTC
I was waiting for your arrival,
& I saw many faces along.
Each time I hoped it's yours,
I waited minutes but it felt
Like hours long,
I waited
and waited until
I looked away.
You suddenly came inside
the gate,
How could you do so fast?
When I just tilted my head,
And as in front of my eyes,
I stared you for so long,
But it ended so fast..
And when
I blinked my eyes
You faded away.
I looked onto everywhere,
But you got mixed,
in all those faces
That I never wanted to see...
I only this moment
Felt , my eyes , betray.
I carved your body
In my skull,
As you were you walking
By my left side,
And I am happy that my
Left eye was okay.
With the pause,
I titled to my left side,
and that was the time ,
When I blinked my eyes
I knew it was the last time.
I putted my head between
My arm's crest,
As the withering drops
Caused the tear to almost
Flow out , but in the end
It oozed out a little..
I was lucky that wind was
Flowing array.
Mar 19, 2025
Mar 19, 2025 at 10:28 AM UTC
Hands tied,
eyes sealed—
silence embraced.
A restless palace of words;
the crown is lost—
where could she be?
Heartbeat stirs,
memories emerge;
madam, are you asleep?
Parallel roads,
horizon’s hues—
where are you?
-mahat
Feb 15, 2025
Feb 15, 2025 at 3:36 AM UTC
Love; a rebirth of heavens, albeit it must've been decaying in soil where I was born; it was love, it always has been. I bestowed a departure to the islands that once was a home, as I'm coming back to the oceans, far from home, _calling me_. Sky high is my love and so the heaven's in your eyes.
My armor is a disdain, I know I wouldn't be a muse. My hair cascades as the stars and dust dances like the galaxies; I am a beautiful sight. I waltz through the beat of my heart, and she said "heaven, earth, sea" a prayer spoken that's coiled in her chest.
Dec 30, 2024
Dec 30, 2024 at 9:45 PM UTC
Self-inflict, inner conflict,
You have yourself to blame.
No sense in looking to
Someone else when
You can’t even look
At me,
Almost like you’re
Ashamed.
Was it something
I said?
Did I go too far,
Or did I tear us
Apart a little more?
When the world
Isn’t easy, we both
Try to avoid and hide
And argue
Who is right.
There’s no space
For resolution
Or compromise.
So we dance,
One more time,
And pretend nothing
Ever changes
And remains the same.
So continue to avoid
Looking me in the eyes
And take my hand.
There’s no compromise
Without a little pain
Time and time again.
So let’s dance and
Tip-toe on thin wire
And let our hearts
Set on fire
One last time.
Aug 4, 2024
Aug 4, 2024 at 8:14 PM UTC
My love has been slipping beyond my grasp, as if it's the faintest light in a lone island I reach in between the gaps of my fingers. In this mere happenstance, you are my greatest expedition that would be written in pages; A conquest that no one could ever have, I was a ticking bomb waiting for the fall of promises that were long drowned at the sea I called "you", a silent yet vengeful endless depth, I named it as my territory, a catastrophic dream, in an afternoon storm.
May 2, 2024
May 2, 2024 at 11:41 AM UTC
i found myself reading
the words of Bukowski
as he describes a series
of meaningless moments
aspects of a journey
seemingly trifling
prosaic and unremarkable
in the manner recounted
a bus stops at a cafe
in the hills
lightly touched by
a newly-falling snow
of food and coffee
he says both were good
the waitress rare
the cook effervescent
the dishwasher commodious
as the snow swirls
beyond the window
he describes the scene
as beautiful but curious
certain it will forever
be beautiful in that way
he wished to stay
yet returned to the bus
nonetheless
when the driver beckoned
the other passengers
spoke or read or
tried to sleep
and none had noticed
the beauty of that moment
that something could be
so poignant to one
while being mundane
to others
is worth remembering
i guess
Feb 7, 2024
Feb 7, 2024 at 8:36 AM UTC
There's nothing I can really own,
I ache at something that wasn't mine; no memories to recollect and no sound of voice that I could memorize, not even a light could stay within.
And even the sky changes its color, it doesn't even own the stars.
Nov 24, 2023
Nov 24, 2023 at 9:58 AM UTC
There are two opposing things that define me: a poignant in eulogy, a melancholia in a deep blue sky and
a parallel and current;
it is boundless.
My love is an empty cage, grown in an innocent body, tearing flesh by flesh,
yearning mouth by mouth, a chest is a garden full of butterflies, my veins is a vial of momentary currents and curves molded to each caresses of something that lingers.
These parallels are a loose thread that bounds a brokenness, and on each pull of the gravity, I would ache to skin and bone.
_It is boundless._
Jul 29, 2023
Jul 29, 2023 at 12:18 AM UTC
In the process of Failing to notice
That I was Falling in love with You,
My mind made you a part of me and
Now that I realize, I came so far and Loved so long,
I don't even remember what you were like,
All I have left is a figment of my stupid imagination and That!,
That doesn't even amount to a fraction of what you are.
Feb 23, 2021
Feb 23, 2021 at 3:39 PM UTC
It’s been a while
That we’d last met
For a coffee
Our fingers met
Like our hearts
Opening to each other
I miss the moments
Soaking
Of poignant silence
I’d drawn words
On your chest
In the shadows
And pried open
My own emotions
I hope
You’re doing well
And the words
Have sprouted flowers
In your scars...
Mar 13, 2019
Mar 13, 2019 at 7:48 AM UTC
I'm no special
But one in three
Me, myself
And the blue in me
Tried to escape
But couldn't flee
Unchain me
And set me free
House it seemed
Can't disagree
All contained
But peace in thee
No souls, no ears
To hear my plea
Unchain me
And set me free
Grown as a person
Never tasted glee
Heart and soul
Dry as a tree
Thirst unquenchable
By ocean or see
Unchain me
And set me free.
Sep 15, 2018
Sep 15, 2018 at 11:07 AM UTC
Three angels came to greet me,
They said they seek for a friend to be,
First is the Angel of Death,
whom I befriended with,
Now my soul would be reaped with care,
Second is the Angel of Sorrow,
whom I befriended with,
To accompany me on a blue day,
Third is the Angel of Love,
whom I befriended with not,
For love only hurt,So I wouldn't dare.
Dec 26, 2017
Dec 26, 2017 at 1:07 AM UTC
The slow autumn presses
at the window,
as geese give a melancholy voice
to leaving
their dark v-shape
splitting a cloudless sky
the sun spreads
a quiet space
of tangerine orange
and rosy pink
as it slips below the horizon
when darkness closes in,
stars shiver
in the distance
ghosts perhaps since
some have died
the moon’s shimmer follows
the river’s winding path
until
complacent river in lament
mingles with powerful sea
ending and beginning
combined in poignant
harmony
Apr 23, 2017
Apr 23, 2017 at 7:47 PM UTC
In the instant it takes a shutter to click and close, you will be gone.
We collected pictures of our perfect pretty smiles, your pearl teeth bear in front, while my lipstick lips, curled into butterfly wings, charmingly drift through the summer air. You are there, you are still there, where I left that you. Before the future became the present and you were no longer here, still there. You are where I cannot reach you.
I held that memory on the tips of my fingers, flicking a lighter close to its edge.
Your hair fell so perfectly over your forehead, but somehow, I still wanted to push it to the side when I looked at the photographs. I guess habit doesn't cease in an instant like the snap of a Polaroid or beat of a heart. When I looked at our pictures, I still wanted to whisper into your ear how much I loved you, chin nuzzled into your neck, fingers draped across your chest, your heart, your warmth. Nothing is permanent. Not even promises. Not even the visions of the kids, the house, the daytime dish washing, and night time monster watching, kids curled up in bed and us, checking on the floor, searching for what is not there and it's funny how even now, even though you're gone, I still find myself doing the same thing. Just alone.
As it caught fire, I watched our perfect lives fall to ashes in the shoe box at my feet, I saw the flash of your eyes and reach of my hand, choking me as it went. They didn't burn as easily as I thought they would.
Im hanging new ones in their place, but the dark spots behind the frames still remain, and your name is written in them.
Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 1:54 PM UTC
I put you on my wall today
As soon as I got home
And I smilled at how you were crooked
And I tilted my head to really see you
And that's when the water sloshed out of my ears and I was drowning
Your eyes became bubbles that helped me breathe
When I ****** them in
I became one with the pressure
The fluctuating force that I knew all to well
Spilling from my ears like a cloud too heavy to hold its weight
You drift off the wall and float with me, fragile, yet permanent and meaningful in my mind
Jan 28, 2016
Jan 28, 2016 at 12:29 PM UTC
Departure heavy,
A Physical change.
He left me,
poignant.
I was joyous,
but frigid lives on.
Nov 30, 2015
Nov 30, 2015 at 8:36 PM UTC
When I first met you, you took me back to the 70’s,
With anarchy, *** pistols and beer soaked blazers,
****** jeans and pipe dreams and your love for jumping off of tall things
under the impression you could fly,
You spoke to me and I felt the whole weight of my body collapse down,
And to this day I thank my knees for not buckling.
Dec 20, 2014
Dec 20, 2014 at 3:20 PM UTC
The best days
Are not the Best Days
Or even the good days
They are the unremarkable
Inconsequential
Days
When you take a step away from yourself
And observe the rise and fall of a moment
From beyond its swell
When you are driving fast
Through a slow-moving night
And the headlights are smearing themselves on the roads
Like they’re trying to redecorate
And the radio is singing Yellow
And you turn your head out the window
To find a moon hung there
Blue-tacked to the infinity of sky
As thick and yellow as your grandmother’s smile
Or when it is winter and the sun has set
But the world doesn’t want the day to be over
And so pulls a musty, mustardy-grey blanket
Right up to its neck and prays
That the time for streetlights
Will insist on running ahead of it
Or when the shadows grow long in summer
And they fall like dust on the sand dunes
You run down to the sea
And try to hold it in your hands
Until the tide prises it from your clenching fingertips
Or when the sunrise is pink
And the cloud caps skid
Like ice-creams on hot plates
And you can’t help but bask in
The creativity of God
The painter
Who’s masterpiece could simply not be framed
And hung on your kitchen wall
And for a little while you want to be able
To lick the colours and candyfloss
Until someone says that little rhyme
About red sky in the mornings
And a shepherd’s warning.
Oct 31, 2014
Oct 31, 2014 at 4:06 AM UTC