A free bird leaps on the back
Of the wind and floats downstream
Till the current ends and dips his wing
In the orange suns rays
And dares to claim the sky.

But a BIRD that stalks down his narrow cage
Can seldom see through his bars of rage
His wings are clipped and his feet are tied
So he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
Of things unknown but longed for still
And his tune is heard on the distant hill for
The caged bird sings of freedom.

The free bird thinks of another breeze
And the trade winds soft through
The sighing trees
And the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright
Lawn and he names the sky his own.

But a caged BIRD stands on the grave of dreams
His shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
His wings are clipped and his feet are tied
So he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings with
A fearful trill of things unknown
But longed for still and his
Tune is heard on the distant hill
For the caged bird sings of freedom.

sandcastles haunted
by the ghosts of ancient *****—
moon-pulled tides whisper

How bitter it was to be bereft
of Crown and life
in self  same breath.
Bitter it was  to fall and die
while disloyal Stanley stood idly by.
The arrow lodged close by my spine
as I was pole axed from behind.
A King of England, doubly dead,
stripped naked ,on an *** was led.
In Leicester's graveyard I was lain-
The anointed monarch they had slain.
To lie forever in this hole
while Henry wore the crown he stole.
My Queen, my son, both predeceased,
were nobly interred and rest in Peace.
While I, Richard,  ignobly lie
near Bosworth field with Greyfriars by.

i share my name with a hurricane
how fitting

a set of bruised shins in running tights
who can't get much of anything right
and still hasn't remembered where she set her drink

that's me

i sometimes think they should've named me tiffany
or brittany
or stephany
something pretty and normal

maybe then i would have been a ballerina
instead of just a mess
in a second-hand dress

sometimes i swear
the wind calms when i laugh
and the thunder cracks
when i finally let go
and let myself fade
back into the sky that shaped me

i make it rain


some things never change
not names
or headstones
or birthdays

and some things always do


the sky shifts slightly
setting a yellow kite to sail
and a pair of hawks to soar

maybe they named the storm after me
so that i could see
how beautiful turbulence can be

maybe i just wasn't looking right

besides
a rose by any other name
wouldn't seem as special

Guilt is a grey and desolate shore,
Abandoned many years before,
And you’re sitting on the sand alone,
While the wind calls out with a dreary moan.

The warm sand below, your body does charm;
Holds you like an infant in a mother's arms.
Although the comfort is all but a lie,
You lay your head down and slowly close an eye.

Through the stormy high-tides you sleep;
And slowly but surely the waves begin to creep.
You do not feel the icy water lick your toes,
Nor when it devours you in your ignorant doze.

Until one day you no longer roam the misty beach;
The waves have grasped you in their callous reach.
Swallowing you whole, beyond horizons ahead;
In a sea of apologies that were left unsaid.