Poetry · Writing


I have to write.

I stare at this blank page

and it stares back

taunts me.

It feeds off me

like a leech it

feast on my fears for breakfast

and sips my anxiety like tea.

Never satisfied

until I write.

So here I sit

Staring through this open window

waiting for the magic.

From a home I can’t explain

neighbor of imagination

down the block from love

Or is it hate.

Next to the house that always cooks barbecue.

That smell that sweeps the block

through open windows

love hate relationship with your belly

as it fights for something more.

Yet, here I sit

waiting for the magic.

Watching this orange fuck

slowly crush our stars

gathering Universal’s Minions

calling himself Gru

wasting on a par 4

stealing candy from unborn babies

from the home that he

is burning to the ground.

Closing our window

after only a few months



Need to-

Look for the magic.

Gather fingertips

the window is still open


Don’t fly

We still have to fight.


Here I stand.


silent page.

Starting at the open window.

Needing to make humans think

think twice

and tell them a lie

that this window

Will always be open.

Poetry · Writing

the day before yesterday

Planning for the future

with a hammer

and a couple nails.

It’s a joke

I know

but it’s the truth.

The nails are a bit rusted

felt like I should mention that.

Bent too.

Head to Home Depot

to have your card rejected

but find a two by four

on the way home.


Buddy said she had

some parts for me,

pity screw.

Looking up already,

call it a note worthy day.


Poetry · Writing


The black panther lives in the rainforest.

This is the home of Faith.

The promising work of a florist.

Home forever even as a wraith.


Enchanting the world with sunny kisses.

Always with you like a reprise.

True nature’s cheery missus.

In spring time, love is carried on the breeze.


Her beauty undeniable by all.

All wanted to see what she could achieve.

Impossible to foresee thee befall.

This panther bows as she takes her leave.


All panthers ache and weep.

Rest now in your beauty sleep.


Poetry · Writing

an afternoon view from above

Hang gliders

from day to-night

dangling from the stars

from night to snow

crawling fear of loss climbs up their legs


sadistic heat tries their sides too high to stop and fly

from hell to now


from now to the landing

they said it would be easy- two hands on the wheel

flow go from gold post and a Jumper like Hayden

changed the world in an evening- one hand and a cold feeling

they said it would be easy- lost sight of the pad

one map and fried pen

need to go home, on tour with endless shows

endless loops- they said

same map and sinking blimps

it would be easy

if the landing pad stayed still.

Poetry · Writing


Truth exists somewhere between the dark and the light

holding our hands out

floating down the stairs

between existing and not.

We love each other dearly

holding our hands out

catching the sun

chasing the moon.

You never-

you never smile with your eyes

they’re a wanderer

fielding dreams

a true i by i.

Poetry · Writing

Power Steering

I want this.

To be ignited and fueled by-


wonders yet worshiped

and only recently discovered

and laying flags like a moon wo(man)

and you’ll be spotted.

To be surrounded by this world

this art

this beauty

your beauty. The hands on the wheel

I’ve always steered alone

(maybe I don’t have to)

the road is wavy

you with the map

(and me with the luck)

will slay this planet.

Poetry · Writing

telescope on my wrist

chasing the dream-like I’m chasing you

clear eyes, full hearts, can’t lose.

wear you on my wrist

like a tattoo

not a name or a sign

but your eyes

so you can see what I see

the chandelier swaying

the view of a goddess tiptoeing

the stars weighing in.

never had view like this- I can tell

peaking once and then twice

a gaze looking back

and never breaking contact.

Poetry · Writing

Really Gone

I can never tell- what you want

even with time, this will never heal

with these hands, lifting you up, to heal

but when I stop, you never seem to stay.

And I’m holding on

waiting until you’re really gone

I cannot stay

finding another way.

I can only feel- my hands fall, so many times

can do no right and patch this up

I’ll swallow my pride, I only want to belong

setting the clock and finding the place.

I’ll try to find another way

but I cannot stay

yet, I’m holding on

until you’re really gone.

Poetry · Writing

if you let me

i’ll change your life.

if you let me,

will bring the dead back to life

dance across the oceans

drink wine before it breathes.

if you let me,

the sun will always rise

you’ll always have someone to hold

the dice will always roll seven.

if you let me,

i’ll burn down these walls

cover up the still with life

chase the hounds that howl away our dreams.

if you don’t,

the park will be empty

a frisbee left on roof

the street light will flicker

and the still will command.

Poetry · Writing

Plan B

The last night

heating up that night

leftovers for dinner

and here comes the winner.

Tears flying 1st class

she can see her time fly past

holding back space on two hours

long night and a cold shower.

This seat is taken

a shot will always miss if it’s never taken

making dinner for two

table set, another miss cue.

Finding the end of the barrel

holding my eyes hostage- in peril~

and I’ll find myself

talking to myself

about myself

with myself.

Poetry · Writing

God’s Plan

You belong with me

facing the lines

the lines we feed.

You collapse in threes

let the doors collide

you’re wasted and fine.

You confide in me

bruised and left weak

shaped by His hand.

You belong to me

you’re no fiend

crossing the line.

The sing on your hand

with your hand

I’ll wave the sign.

Of your hand.


Poetry · Writing


Just keep on high-stepping

you’ll find me running towards the sirens

never backing down when the fire reaches higher-

higher than we could have dreamed of

problems backed up no Drano

famed and mixing potions.

luring me to the other side

siren of my dream

melody of a fiend

sirens come to our door

headboard caught a blaze

blue faces found our maze

teaming up-fazed out-catching the

more sink or swim


drowning watching the ship taste the bottom

matching the sirens.

they know us by face

it’s just another case

calling me at work

singing our song

getting under my skin

turning my gears under my skin

floating through walls-fazed out

feeling glazed walking out krispy

and you’ll be waiting-