Listen
Not to the lions, but to the lambs.
And Listen most clearly to the silence. The immense sound within the void.
The conjunction between isolation and society–not nature and man–for that distinction comes down to vision–not reality.
Though, in traditional sanskrit, there is no word for spirituality–only ‘vision’
That distinction is as real as we perceive it.
I believe in all that has been proven to me, but even more so in all that has not, cannot, and will not.
Read MoreNature in manhattan has a bitter after taste
I suppose it’s less about the human touch and more about our constant strive for excellence.
Perfectly placed lilies line the fountain
Forced into patterns without attending to mother’s chaos and order.
It bothers me.
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The days have been disorienting
Weeks start and end with seasons
Taking time for granted
Granting time to snip untied knots
Read MorePlastered porcelain girl
Split between parts
Sorrow the devil
With a line
Pierced her frown with a canine
Wondering the root of tendency
Or now, I suppose, tradition
Her almond eyes never drooped
What a finite fortune
Unfortunately, most children are taught that rules are meant to be followed.
Read MoreI hide from you within constructed confines
When all my pen writes is for you
Displaced memories blend with imagined sand between my toes
And the sun takes a dip in the sea
Collapsing far beyond the break where you lay.
Read MoreThings always change long before you really see them. It isn’t until we were stripping ourselves naked, chests pressed together, your neck strained and lips hovered, forbidding them from meeting mine, that I began to notice such things.
Read MoreI plant a seed
You watch it grow
You must give in order to take
~You picked my fruit dry
Silver wax drips down the candlestick
A single flame lights up the room
The white wick crumbles
Read MoreScrimmage in
through the hole in the wall
Bearing fruits
Made with little maure
Dried and preserved for sale.
Read MoreDarling, where do all the lost things go?
Read MoreI hit my head pretty hard
I feel it as a pulse
Radiating pain in sync with my heart murmur
Sporadic and unpredictable
Twitching on beat with the marching band
At every soft spot
Read MoreDrunken love
In the arm a man I refuse to write about
For words will never say enough.
I swear we are one
Read MoreAs a reminder of the love we shared
The depth to which we cared
And a feeling I will never forget.
Read MoreA reference to Radiohead
Read MoreA word to myself.
Read MoreSometimes I find it hard to breathe
Hard to see when I’m choking on chunks of tangled blonde hair
Strayed across my face
Invading my mouth
And sticking to my lips.
Read MoreHow do you keep safe when your whole day is as wide and empty as the sky?
They always call depression the blues,
As dark as my big blue eyes
Too perfect
Too delicate to be real
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