July 13, 2015, 2:53 pm
Filed under: Poetry

Bitter coffee, cold in a damp
paper cup, newspaper lonely
in my hands. You’re sleeping,
worry gone like pills down a drain,
my mind sharp
like the needle
lying softly in your vein.
Legally I shouldn’t be here
next to your bed,
but i panicked at the thought
of you alone.
So now you’re my “wife,”
the marriage ironically quick
and neat
and the nurse knows,
but she’s seen more
of this side of life
than me.
My phone ringing
is not you,
but then it hasn’t been
for awhile.
Your mother wants to know
and again I can’t tell her
the truth, and so I mention
and sunlight,
and stress,
and sadness,
not spitting out the word
that pauses like poison
on my tongue,
and instead I swallow it,
gulp it into me like air,
and it sinks in my stomach,
and it is pulled into my bloodstream
by cold fingers
and it settles deep inside me.


June 15, 2015, 3:19 pm
Filed under: Poetry

If I could see you clothed in night again,
The moonlight’s kisses dancing on your cheek,
As naked to the world as you were then;
The sin of love to see what makes us weak—
If i could smell the perfume of your skin,
Sweet chemistry sweet-talking in my head,
The madness of your laugh that drew me in,
The echo of our love still in my bed—
If I could sense your presence in my room,
Like now when I seek refuge from your name,
My back still turned as dark your specter looms;
To haunt me with the ghost of my own blame—
     Then ever would I feign to love you less,
     The more I miss, the more I can confess.

April 5, 2013, 10:09 am
Filed under: Poetry

Sometimes there aren’t words
for the feeling is just a memory.
Sometimes the white-washed brick
and crumbling mortar of a city
half-forgotten speaks for itself,
in the way that the hard creases
in a person’s face can tell
the story of their life. I can only capture
images, snapshots of time
which speak to me beneath
their weary surfaces, under a facade
of indifference and grime,
where the warm glowing heart
of the world still beats. These moments
are not precious gems to be treasured
and mounted, nor stories
to be catalogued on bookshelves,
but they are meant to be whispered
secrets among friends, passed
like drink glasses on a Thursday evening,
sung softly like the first bird of spring.

The Spring-Maker
March 26, 2013, 4:13 pm
Filed under: Poetry

The spring-maker
coils his rhyme,
making the tools
to keep the time.
His face aglow
with reddened coals
his eyes aflame
like sheets of rain,
he molds the metal
all the same.
The spring-maker
coated in grime,
makes the tools
to keep the time.

March 20, 2013, 9:31 am
Filed under: Poetry

I want to keep the things
I’ve learned like
pebbles in my pocket,
like pebbles in my pocket
they weigh me down against
the wind, keep my feet
on the ground, reminding me
to love my family,
to pick my battles,
to live in the moment.
In the morning
I can take them out
and put them on the table
and pick the ones
to carry today:
Today I will not get angry
when my colleague is late.
Today I will call my brother
because it’s been two weeks.
Today I will take chances.
When I get home
I’ll check them off,
mark the ones that I forgot
to carry them tomorrow.
So let me keep
the things I’ve learned
in my mind like
pebbles in my pocket,
like pebbles in my pocket
they weigh me down.

Hospital Coffee
March 6, 2013, 9:56 pm
Filed under: Poetry

I’m sipping cold coffee
in a paper cup, the bitter taste
of stale grounds, a dull buzz
in my brain. This hospital
smells of death and mistakes
not regretted, autumn decay
lingering like mold in damp corners
and stairwells.
If it be your will
come back to me
whole, come back
like the days of lounging,
nothing but the sweet
summer taste of heat.
Come back to me
conveniently erase the memories
we don’t need, let your smile
linger on your face
again in dream.
Life is an education
and the lessons
are not learned
they’re experienced
and this has taught
me I am fragile,
I am weak, I am standing
on another’s legs, but mostly,
I am tired.
Even now as you sink
into slumber like pills
down a drain I suffer
this fatigue,
a hole in my core
three years of sleeping
could not fill.
If once I was fulfilled
with dreams
of you
and me
just now
I know
you are
a dream
no more.

The Moment
February 25, 2013, 6:56 am
Filed under: Poetry

.     Keep thinking it will be

.                a moment

of clarity for you, that

.       the earthly chaos will


.               away

.      and leave only

.                this molten core.

You will not know

.     I am the one until

.                     I am

.         the one,

but by then your heart

.              will know


.         of love, constructed so

.            like buildings planned

.                     by city planners

.            grids like New York’s

.                                 subway,

.                      shuttling hearts.

No, then your heart

.                will know only the song

.         of the mountains,

.                calling us to be

.    the life-force,

the steady warm flow

.              from heart

.         to heart.