Indulgence.The decadence ofwritten word will not sufferfate dead and buried.
Desired.Calendar smut gluedas holy murals on walls.How do I compete?
Conflict.Last time Winter broughta boy in tears, pawn conflict,and heartstrings sharpened.
Sexuality.My mother asked once,"Do you even like girls?" Ilaughed, "I like no one."
Bloom.Answer my heat withcold compress of written word;I will bloom within.
Photosynthesis.My love is meadowwhere the flowers grow for you;sunlight eternal.
Letters.I crave taste of daywhen your thoughts are brought to lifein text horizon.
Chained.I dreamt you were here,your arms in place of shackles;captured, happy, free.
Fontanel.I can't write haikuswithout subconscious reveals.My brain is exposed.
Prisonerher dreams all broken loose.Memories, unconfined,escaped her past,they roost now in the tanglesof her disordered present.
ObservationYou just need focus,the tree is the simpler task.From humanityOne must expect blurred edges,truth inferred rather than seen.
my masksometimes my mask breaksmy mask that always smilesthrough the cracks... tears flow
PoemsSitting in a corner,As I always do,Lost in the nothing,Surrounded by it too,I turn to you,Then you turn away,A scamper here,And a tumble there,Is that all the effort that you got?Laying on my bed,The ceiling above,Blank as always,Boring as always,Just like you,Lying as always,Denying as always,Is it really that hard for you to see?Turning the knob,You invite yourself in,Go away I tell you,But you ignore me,You scream and yell,You beat my insides,Making life a hell,It brings you pleasure,I know it does,You like seeing me this way,How many days I wonder,Until I fade away?Staring at me,You glare,Into insides beyond the mere,I'm only a child,A poor defenseless child,How you love watching me crumble,Being blown away by little things,You love this more than anything,And all you do is deny what I say,My soul will burn,And the insides split,While you remain unswayed....How little you see,Understanding little,Seeing little,Nothing new for me,Staying
KissThere's nothing sweeterthan a kiss, except for themoment right before
Inner-scopea single poemI'll never stop revising -myselfOctober '11
Tanka Series1.dry leaves-I rememberthe perfect spiralof my wornpigskin2.asking her outby emailI proofread every wordthen-delete3.flippingto the free spacein my journal-but how can five lineshold autumn dusk?4.sorority bake salethe girl I dumpedlast yearserves mea cold brownie5.Thanksgiving-above thedinner prayerthe howlof a stray dog6.fall carnivalthe tarot woman's handwarmagainst my own7.even in the coolof night airthe roseclimbingher ankle
PioneerThe power of flightbegins with a child's fantasy,the world left behind.
Smooth PebblesEvery swooning blade of grass vindicated.The deep blue silence of a turning wheel.A precise number of fireflies in the apples.The coiled jealousy of all reptiles.The palsy of a prisoner's first sob.A tranquil sorrow in a dog's ribcage.All faces obliterated from the moon.Nirvana observed among smooth pebbles.The slough of mountain summits in decline.Every planet reprieved of its orbit.The ecstasy within a mandala.The space between spaces.Honing the blade....And this.
Wanted.Seeking silhouette:Read me poetry while ICry feverishly