Poetry · Writing

fixative

i only shot photos

in black & white

color escapes my canvas;

stellar collapsed bridges

leading to sinking cites

hills brushed by a gray breeze

& dying trees.

until-

a night at the Exchange

monochrome strobe

smoke & rays

then you;

silky cardinal dress,

polished amber hair,

eyes sleepy royal, brighter than the moon.

now in my darkroom’s ruby glow,

your colors bloom, a permanent print

the hills await a hinted tint,

the grayscale world begins to show

a spectrum lurking, longing within

i see them now, i see them now-

your cardinal, amber, royal light

exposing all my endless nights.

Poetry · Writing

ebb

he watched the sunset;

waves crashed against the unaware pier

clouds parted around the waning crescent

drowned sand reached for his pockets like a mugger.

he watched the sunrise;

the waves carried him out-

seagulls called to the morning fishermen

salt and litter crawled around his ears

waves crashed against the unaware pier

Poetry · Writing

open balcony

day of our showcase

pants hemmed the night before

shirt pressed the night before

day of our showcase

up bright and early;

birds chirped a fresh melody-

a duet-

can’t deny their chemistry-

Juliet.

night of our showcase

must have gotten lost the morning of

changed your mind the morning of

night of our showcase

down, late and groggy;

the foggy night swings-

memory of a duet-

marionette’s heartstrings-

where have you gone, juliet.

Poetry · Writing

(r)aw

first lover-

taught at the tips of her claws

bloodied- vanished into the hush of the night-

forgotten, bruised, Raw.

than you, a foreman, building our home- slowly

homely hands warmed my soul- yet

the scars bled too deep.

inevitably, leaving us, Raw.

now, chief surgeon’s table- my chest pried wide-

gaped wide enough to let her soul in.

she stitches through my veins; prowls on all fours

lovingly, passionately, deeply, Raw.

Poetry · Writing

march 28th 2022

it was the night before;

the one you left in your rear view

driving 210 down main

but never went that fast for her.

memories are a crazy thing

one day they’re dreams

the next, nightmare

dread the night.

it was the week before;

like it was yesterday

tail lights chasing

fleeing

from a fear:

fear of leaving more bodies

alive dead npc

didn’t matter;

that life was messy-

-people got hurt,

-wake up.

this is real life,

it was only yesterd-

-that was three years ago

-this is real life,

-wake up.