WW II

Pages turned, bridges burned, the victory is my defeat.

Every Little Step I Take

It was Saturday. I sat. I thought. I realized that life is not measured by the giant steps we make but every little step we take. As an over thinker, I tend to beat myself up for the “steps” I don’t take. It’s quite normal to be a person who sees the big picture. But as…

Dickey Says…

A poet is someone who stands outside in the rain hoping to be struck by lightening- James Dickey

Bloom

Shallow thoughts. Bloom like cannabis flowers that calm the mind. Transcending a world of deception. Peace made hard from life’s erection. Condemning the perception of freedom. Blink. Eyes half closed half awake. Half dead half alive.

Venom 

Rushing into my veins penetrating my existence…black out. My body struggles for strength as my limbs buckle trying to stand from being poisoned once again. My hands begin to shake like wise men seeking truth. Reaching for support to sustain my being from falling once again.

Remember The Time 

I love you like the last time. You know…when we met as butterflies.  Or when we said wherever the wind blows.  That other time. You know…when we dared to face the waterfall. Or when we said it’s just “US.” That other time and every time.

Dementia 

Tortured by pleasure. Tormented by confusion. Misunderstanding with the depth of that of the ocean floor. Precision of wonder is that of an eagle’s vision when capturing prey. Frantic. Questions blur lines invisible with no chance for reason and no room for answer. Tangled like knots and not fairytales. Here we lay. Loss for words,…