Gifts (To All the Ones I’ve Left Behind)

You are in my heart, annoyingly-

a shadow,
a remnant,
a ghost I cannot truly grasp,
a crevice nothing else will fit inside.

So I write poetry,Read More »

Suicidal Rain

Drops fall in unison,
roaring on the roof like
a giant’s fan sent to cool the homestead off.

Meanwhile, the beads that fell first
splash into puddles and pots,
filling rows up when all they did was fall down.

The grey has never brightened your mood,
but I guzzle water.
You don’t see its point; You want
the sun to match the marigolds,Read More »

S.S. Sinking (Utilizing Lady Gaga’s “Paparazzi”)

Is music sex?
And is sex love?

See, I am charged; I am impassioned.
I’ve an energy, this channel.
Still, I have an age to me
you may not live to know-

I may be set ablaze, but I’m old,
at least inside my soul.

I’ve a sadness,
an emptiness,
but it isn’t that my eyes are vacant.

No, emptiness isn’t a hole; it’s a mass.
It has heaviness, and it has weight;
It has substance.
And fingernails!

It clings to the walls of my heart, just like staplesRead More »