Dynamic Orange

You’ve got red shoes
Only to dance on life’s fire,
A practiced choreography
Or just your quickstep.

I wear a yellow jacket,
Long with swallowtail,
A shield of protection
Or just my birthright.


Senescent silence

A mute not a mime,
Another moment
Lost in time.

A wilted flower withers,
But can bloom again
If it’s a sinner.

A timepiece running out,
Stuck in a stand still
Unable to shout.


Does it hurt yet?

Is it hurting you
That your neighbor is gay?
That your brother kneels
Before a different god to pray?

Is it hurting you
That his voice is different?
Or that her skin
Is a different pigment?

Is it hurting you
The way you think?
The way you never hesitate?
The way you never blink?

So quick to judge everyone
but you,
But your mirrors they laugh
When they look at you.

Is it hurting you
To be so assuming?
To pick at things,
Naming wrongdoings?

Is it hurting you yet
To hold this grudge?
To be so angry?
To only judge?

Is it hurting you now
That people are dying?
That some won’t stop lying?
While others keep trying…

Is it hurting you?
To look down on people’s choices?
To cover your ears
And smother the voices?

Is it hurting you?
To think that you’re better??
To be so alone???
Instead of together????


On hold

Music plays in the background,
I wait for the sound of voices
As if time does not exist.


Life in fear

We are scared of what we don’t understand,
So we cover our faces
And we stop touching hands.
Tell me please, how this makes sense,
When immunity goes does down
And our trust becomes less.
People look away now,
Too scared to offer help,
Because “what about me?”
Its just fear and insecurities.
Who told you to feel the way that you feel?
Who told you what is right and what is wrong?
We listen to “leaders”, internet, and tv,
When we forget to hear ourselves,
We forget humanity.
These “Authorities” they give advice,
Like urgent demanding orders…
Think about it for a minute,
Or maybe even twice.
You only have one life to live,
Look inside yourself
You should be the leader of it.


Who told you to feel the way that you feel?? Who told you what is right and what is wrong??

Slice of life

A shattered mirror falls silently,
As dreams bleed deaths
Between fresh cut glass.

I carve new hopes
Into raw skin.


Singularity (the)

Lips open to speak
Words always unheard.
Tiny screens reflect in eyes,
My mind begins to wonder
If ears are closed
When eyes do not meet.
My heart crumbles
Pieces of missed


Boreas and Zephyrus

Beneath bare feet ground rumbles,
As thunder roars a motion closer
With the coax of winds wise hand…

“I can only say this once,” he whisperers,
My eyes sting in his icy breath,
“Don’t let fear stop you cold,
The way that you’ve let me.
Though I might breathe chills like death,
Slowly spreading snow and sleep,
Other things live out there lurking…
They’ll trap you in and tie you up,
But only when you weep…
Only when your hope is gone
Because of fears deceit.”

Just like that he disappears,
Leaving words in echo.
Standing here with only tears,
Drip fears I’ll learn to let go.



I peel myself from the wall,
A fly with broken wings,
Limbs flinching in days recoil.
Like the sun in the sky,
I die out.



Another question put away for later
Only left to turn rancid behind cowards teeth,
Or an over protected heart.
A choice made to stay happy
In a clouded mind seems content
Through blind eyes,
And these hurtful answers
Seem nonexistent to deafened ears
When they may have never heard them,
While these thoughts live on as ghosts
As a scar on a slit tongue.


Time bomb

(tick, tick, tick)
Don’t say this doesn’t matter,
Stuck in our homes,
“Self made” invisible prison.
We hear ticking time bombs,
A new kind of civil war.
Cyberspace, cybercrime,
Another fuse lit by humans…
A thread burns too close to surface,
The Big Bang we might live to see
Awaits us.


Stopped clock illusion

A cold winter that never ends
Spreads hands across seas.
Layers of ice upon our eyelids
Thaw thin, likely to break.
A shatter, a life change,
Only in the blink of an eye.
A second split in two
That feels like hours,
Our new sense of time.



Behind foggy windows
We wait in silence…
Another means to an end,
Today’s sun sets like yesterday’s.
Beneath the moon
Shines silver reflection,
A sparkle of hope for some.


Note to self: “What you waiting for?”

We pick flowers from their beds
While they stand firm and bright,
Proudly put them in a vase,
Showcase them like a prize.
Then one night their petals wilt,
Colors start to fade and dry,
In the morning we wake up
And throw them out to die.

Thirty one petals


The poem above is a walk through of some feelings, fears that have been creeping in on me the last year. Every year Time, Calendar, and Mirror tell me I am older, but I only feel myself growing young. I am a little with an old soul, born into the world with aged insides and a humble heart to big for my tiny body. I am finding age gifts me loosened palms and the courage of a child that I never had.

I turned 31 this month. Happy late birthday to me.

Note to self: “What you waiting for?”


I have let the thought of “us”
Marinate for quite some time.
As this thought has sat soaking,
Bathing in dreams and fantasies,
It has only become more


Near and far

Easy it is to miss you,
Though tonight your bed is warm,
Tomorrow it will be cold, waiting,
Another week goes by till you return.
Now seven days feels like a year,
So it makes sense when you come home,
How my heart always aches with mourning,
Then it melts to how you’ve grown.


Kiss me

Kiss me one more time,
So that I can feel something
Better than this,
So I can feel your tongue
Against mine,
So I can taste the salt
Of your busy day
and know that after
You are still