Before I was a blogger, I was a poet. You can buy my self-published book here, but you can also read some of my work below.
Get Out of Here
“I couldn’t wait
to get out of this town”
my mother said
in the town she was born in,
next to the mother
she grew up next to
and the daughter
who grew inside her,
memories speeding past
behind her eyes like
mile markers.
But in two generations
no dust clouded
the trunk of their vehicles.
No boxes were packed;
my mother and her mother
stayed put.
Now
when I hold paper bills in my hand
they seem as thin as butterfly wings
and more apt to fly away
with every crumpled moment
I invest here.
My body knows my plan
as if a constellation’s path
has been etched
into my skin but the more
I sip the water
brimming over with fluoride
the more I wash down
my troubles with kool-aid
the more I begin to douse unsavory dinner conversations
and sweep dirty laundry
under the proverbial persian rug,
I can feel my panoramic vision
reduced to my peripherals.
And just like that rug,
it fits the area that my life
covers.
Its compact and limited.
In this town, the sky makes me feel
claustrophobic as it only
inhales day and exhales night.
Even my vision is circumcised
through lenses with rims that like
a carriage horse
I am not spooked by the progress that races by me.
This town is too small, for mosquitoes
happily breed in tears, and vines creep out to hold me close.
I need to sharpen
believe in something
get out of here.
And straighten out my
mother and her mother
left in my hair
and hope I don’t disappoint
myself in the wrong direction.
Love Poem
If a man tries to explain what love is
a fool he is indeed
for he will also try to explain it in chemicals
and I have seen sunsets that have produced
nothing short of a religious moment
from only light being fractured by one million drops
of visible clouds.
Haikus: Four Seasons/Four Operations
A summer wedding,
swans on the lake; I was meant
to be your plus one.
Corpses of leaves, I
crunch, pull my coat closer, you
subtracted my love.
Winter winds outside
log multiplies the flames and
my longing for you.
Spring in my step and
my heart: dividing it so
still left me with half.
Instant Gratification
A girl with fire gold hair, tangled and snarled so succinctly,
sat complacently;
eyes intent on the stage.
I blushed as her underwear raised
out of her jeans like a blue moon.
I wished for her to turn around,
to see if the rarity of her hair
would match her face.
I willed feverishly to catch a glimpse,
to know her countenance
like my own.
When she rose once more, quite erect
our eyes met
hers utterly unflinching, open and true
so blatant and candid
she stared with
complete abandon.
I was not disappointed.
The Maiden Lasting
I stare out through the glass,
at a white landscape
blanketed with security
saturated with purity.
An endless virginity
marred only by the ram-rod trees
and the deer’s soft tread over
the frozen ground.
A vastness incomparable…I think
when my eyes
alight upon a single tree
who, although the solstice has passed,
retains her leaves…
though they are decrepit and lifeless.
I wonder if she has cursed her
decision; renounced it until it
reverberated to her swollen limbs.
Pregnant with so much failure,
it seems her time has waned
now that the snow is melting…
but, what has she learned?
I really enjoyed this. You’re very talented!
Thank you so much! You’re too kind.