Wednesday, December 29, 2021


Let's close our eyes
we don't need the artificial light
to show we've finally moved,
 through the crowded night

You know that beautiful stranger         
who once told us her name was Rest?
in case you've forgotten
she arrives in her sleepwear best
when we take a deep breath 
and count the heartbeats
 which keep us blessed

And that pen,
that often asks
to dance with the next page
wants us to know
it will no longer waltz
with the storm and all its rage

Paths taken seeking summer blue
often led us to many a nasty fall.
 Though we may not be sun or bird
we've tempted fate
Risen with the morning to see it all

The frost will keep us still for a time
then suddenly disappear
and our prayers will flow more freely
through the lighter air

The perennials,
 as promised
 will continue to greet another year...

To blossom is such a beautiful thing
and for that let's thank the devotion 
of the returning spring

Sunday, January 29, 2017


The turbulent clouds form a frown,
 their sorrow will soon be coming down.
The tea kettle is screaming
I'm awake, because
My nights won't stop dreaming
Of the last room
You filled with your voice.

The echoes survive.
 Sometimes, it kills me to feel alive;
Haunting to know
 for a while, we all have a choice...

And where did yours go?
And why would it not wait ?
The bright hour of the morning
Left not a hint of a warning
That the time was much too late.

You didn't think you'd be missed,
You know, that makes me pissed!
 I've met the wandering streams
that ran into every smile you've kissed.

 Meteors of broken hearts fall
Through the space of each moment
That used to hold your hand.
I stand and wait to be struck
Where I hope the enlightenment will land.

The disappearance of your future
 Is the worst mystery I'll never understand.

Saturday, January 10, 2015

long Distance

Will this winter finally numb the pain?

I've drowned my secrets in summer's seashells again.

I miss blue so much
 I've become it.
It's taken over me
like a tornado's latest possession,
and left me pale,
in a place I don't recognize.

Am I the lost or the loser?

I wonder if I've written this before

I don't know anymore,
I just know there was a time
 I lived with a smile.

Lately I live alone.

And I'm reaching out
Calling long distance for laughter.

I love you is bouncing back and forth
From earth to space.
I'm telling the midnight sky
How much I miss your early morning face.

I hope those satellites aren't disturbing your peace.
But I want you to hear me now...

I don't believe you did before.
There's so much I don't believe anymore.

I want to believe again.

I'm tired of holding up boulders.
I prefer to carry youth on my shoulders,
So maybe it will see the world,
And tell me how to fix it.
Or perhaps it will laugh,
And say nothing is broken...

Just a fun mess.

I'll remember you young
And be troubled less.

I'll try.


Sometimes just before I leave
the darkness for a dream,
I get that falling sensation,
Then jolt up,
I'm on a soft bed,
And not saying farewell
With anxious weekend toes
on a narrow ledge
With no room for dancing.

I spend a lot of hours alone,
 on the edge of a mountain,
Tossing what-ifs off a cliff --
Listening to their echoes as they hit rock bottom
Forgetting I'm above them all.

That kind of spending should probably have left me broke, broken,
 and dead by now;

I realize the reason it hasn't
Is because you've gifted me some of your time.

As you sit across from me today,
And I look away from "away"...
Away from the blizzard of questions
To reach the warm hope
Springing from your smiling eyes --
In that moment I feel like an answer...

Maybe not for one of mine, but maybe yours.
And maybe that's enough,
 because it feels like everything.
It feels like May's pink and white trees have showered petals over me.

It feels like beginning.
It feels like maybe...
And maybe is damn better
Than all the never I've always known.

It's possible we are all really answers
Just waiting to recognize our reflections
In the pools of questioning eyes.

Sunday, November 2, 2014


Please forget the things that I've done, both good and bad.

Forget the kind gestures --all the little things like
offering my small coins at the register
So the cashier gives you green paper that will rest in your wallet like a dream you're going to someday spend,
 instead of a pocket-full of well wishes to be sunk.

Forget the compliments I freely floated towards you like frisbies...they were all just truths that had nothing to do with me, anyway. There were moments I'd stop being me just to be your are that beautiful even in reverse, at your very worst (always remember that)

Oh and please forget each verse...they only fell like short raindrops and I feel you've always been more like a strong wind that will come back again and again to knock me in the right direction during inclement seasons.

Forget my name and the reasons you learned both the first and last...Forget the first day you asked (or maybe I just told) and the last day you spoke it.

Definitely forget the broken record or two when you'd call out over and over for me and I wasn't there to respond to you... by the way, I kept the pieces and I plan to restore them into an album of indestructible, resounding second chances...

Forget that I sometimes hugged you,
And absolutely forget that I sometimes pushed you away.

Forget that I cheered for you loudly in the stands.
Forget that I've been clapping for you longer than time had hands.

The words, the actions, all the fractions of my life that I've offered, too.
Forget them. Accidentally or purposely leave them in dark, empty places

So in the hours you're lonely, or busy doing things you wish you never had to do
You can smile and remember that you forgot how I've always loved you.

Thursday, August 7, 2014

You Are Alive

The earth has a poem for you

Close your eyes,
 hold out your hands
and accept it...

Do you feel the wind?
The falling rain?
The winter snow
Numbing a black and blue sky?
The sun growing tomorrows?
The moon putting them to bed?

A hand
 you turn
To touch the palm--
Tracing the lifeline,
 your fingertip knows the way.
The echoes of those
We cannot keep
Though we hold tightly anyway.

Close your eyes
Do you feel the rhythm
Fall and rise?

You are alive.
You are alive.

Take that title
And run with it.
Make love to it.
Bring it to the lake.
Put it beside your pillow
So you can kiss it when you wake.

You are alive.

Take your poem
out on the town.

Show it off to a friend;
Get them to laugh
And spit their drink
 all over the page

Bring it to the park
And get its shoes dirty.
Push it on the swing.
Slide it down the slide.
Spin it dizzy on the merry-go-round.

Drive it home.
Open doors for it.

Keep it always,
For safe keeping--
Just don't keep it in the safe.

You don't have to memorize every line.
It's probably best not to...

But the title
You may want to keep
At the front of your mind.

A whisper in the library
a shout through the rustling trees

You are alive.

Friday, August 1, 2014


I want to throw the truth out of my mind, but I'm afraid a friend will reach out on a reflex and catch it. I want to say I'm not okay, without those words slipping out and hanging on for dear life to your smile,

until its weight is too much for your sweet smile to bear
 and the words fall--leaving a frown there.

I don't want to lie.
I want to tell you there are nights that I cry

And cry
And cry
And cry

I camp out in my room
With worry
And we forget to close the door
And a gang called "fear" comes galloping in,
 wearing masks that even closed eyes can see
The end of the world is just behind them

As they get closer and closer
The end of the world
Is still just behind them

I get lost searching for my breath
Surrounded by a forest of death

And that's not the kind of neighborhood
I want to walk a beautiful soul
 like you through

So I leave you a map
To a false place
With the design of
A happier face

Maybe one day
I'll meet you there

If I could sleep long enough
to dream a way out
of this nightmare

Maybe one day
 I'll meet you there

Wednesday, July 2, 2014

Something To Hold

It is when my hands
find themselves in an empty place
and my mind
 has somewhere it needs to go
that they seek the only vehicle they know

The ink
and my beating, bleeding heart
leap onto the page simultaneously
like two souls
hand in hand
taking their final leap off a bridge
into a river
that will accept their eternal devotion
and embrace their fate

at the end of a poem
I'm born again.
I close my fist
around my pen
like a newborn's hand
closes around momma's finger.

Our first instinct
is to hold love
when it meets us;
It's not part of our instinct
to let go--

I think that's why I always
search for something safe to hold
when my hands reach out
and feel only a breeze

I need something still
that only moves
when it moves with me this pen.