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Overwhelmed Jan 2015
pray in a quiet, proud voice
for a better year this time

pray each day
when you look in the mirror
when you embrace your loves
when you get your grades back
when you drag yourself to work
when you get out of bed after
only two snoozes on the alarm
when you leave someone behind
when you take the first drink
when you lose it all at once
when you toe the edge of sanity
when you nearly give death
that kiss he’s always wanted

pray at this times
in a voice that does not tremble
and pray for the good times to
be long and the bad times to
be brief

pray loudly so that everyone
can hear you but do it without
your voice

pray by dancing and singing
pray by doing nothing today
pray by forcing the good habits in
and the bad habits out
pray by forgiving yourself
and knowing that you are

pray at the altar
of yourself

for you are the father,
the son, and the holy
ghost who separately
make up everything
that are, can,
and will

and god is only as powerful
as the prayers he receives
Overwhelmed Dec 2014
too proud to quit
too proud to improve
the noble poet died
as quietly as he
Overwhelmed Nov 2014
to paraphrase a much wiser soul,
“we are a part of the universe
grown self-aware”

and I think the lesson here
is that we are not alone

for when we breath,
so does the earth,
the stars,
the galaxy
the rest of the universe
expanding so widely
that we can hardly
perceive our

the earth, the stars,
and the universe,
are a singular being
spread across reaches
beyond reach, who
is never
truly severed.
Overwhelmed Nov 2014
what comforts can you offer
to a person who smiled
when he was told

“you’re dying”

and he lived?
Overwhelmed Nov 2014
the car was hot with choking steam
coming off the confused tangled of
my mind, which was wrapped, all at
once, in feelings of loathing, mistrust,
doubt, apathy, and blind conviction.

windows steamed up and my broken
headlights half-heartedly lit the way
ahead, but I got home as the sun was
ducking behind the spindly pine legs
of its mother, the horizon, and I was
no longer fixated on the cacophony
within my brain.

the trees were bending and shaking
and my phone warned me that there
would be winds to cut the bone.

the first signs that
winter was coming,
it was November 1st.

the sharp winds ran through the trees
and through my ears, straight through,
across the hills and valleys of my mind
even into the deepest canyons where
moral men fear to delve, and there it
cleansed me of my disheveled madness.

for instead of many, there was now two:
those selves that jockeyed for principality
and the settled self that I would one day

each day the winds bring me closer
to the latter of these two end points.
the howling sound merely the friction
of a transformation pushing a soul
beyond its limits.
Overwhelmed Oct 2014
I can understand
if you do not want
another poem
about a
all poems are
about storms

moments of intensity,
destruction, and light
finally shining through.
Overwhelmed Oct 2014
to be proud of myself
is to silence my pride
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