Thursday, February 18, 2016


We have enough scars
and heartbreaks
crushed families
spilling from the alcohol that
pours from our TVs

Afraid to be
the best of ourselves
because everyone is
making fun of our

Add a filter
tip your chin
Not sure where you took the picture
but you are the center
The world though has its
own axis
and we are all spinning around the
same pole

So let's drop more bombs
open more prisons
and call people names
from our keyboards
because it doesn’t matter anymore
because it never mattered in the first place

The Internet tells me so…

Wednesday, February 17, 2016

Writing in the Dark

The sun shines everyday
 the clock ticks one second ahead to the future
There are millions of reasons to smile
  to love
  to be happy

But somehow there is a lens on the view I see
I’m trying to write my story
 but it feels like I am writing in the dark

I feel the pen in my hand,
 the paper on the table.
I understand the words I write
  I feel the curve and flow of
  the letter L
  the wave of an i
  the infinity movement of an f
  and a wider wave of an e

But how do I go back to dot the i?
Are my letters straight on the page,
  spaced accordingly?
Or does the words I write scrunch together
 unable to expand and breathe
 a muddled mess of lines?

I wonder if the path of my  words slant up or down?
A story that looks like
I dropped a box of magnets poetry pieces
  onto the paper

I know that I can smile today, but I’m
 writing in the dark

I have never found the switch to enlighten my room
Or found the window shades
 to pull back the curtains
 to see the beauty of the world
And no one seems to know I’m in here
writing in the dark

Monday, February 15, 2016

To the Old Man Eating Alone on Valentine's Day

You are dressed in a red button down shirt
  a sharp red and black tie
Your comb-over doesn’t cover your bald spot
The waitress helps you with your coat and cane
“Thank you,” you say a little loud
   as if your hearing is bad
The waitress removes the other three place settings
“Would you like something else to drink?” she asks
“No, water is fine.” You smile at her
She takes your order and soon returns with your hot and spicy soup.

I wonder what your story is…
The restaurant is filled with couples and families
It is Valentine’s day
You watch the others around you as you enjoy your soup
Tipping the bowl to get the last drops out
Then I see it
Left hand, reflecting the light
  a solid gold ring
  but you are alone
What is your story?
Has your wife passed away?
Was this her favorite restaurant?
Is this where you first said I love you?
Or maybe presented her with the companion ring to yours?
Is your home filled with framed memories and carpet that needs replaced?
Are you happy?
Is this day a bittersweet moment?
We make eye contact
I smile, so do you.
Are your eyes filled with memories?
They seem on the verge of tears
You turn away your smile as the waitress brings your lunch
Our waitress brings boxes and the check
You sit with pride
  dressed in a red button down shirt
  and a red and black tie
A perfect outfit for Valentine’s day
Whatever your story is
   she must have made it unforgettable

Tuesday, February 9, 2016

I write

I write
    because no one seems capable of returning a shopping cart to the cart corral
    or slowing down for a yellow light
    or using a blinker to help other drivers know what they are doing

I write
    because there is too much hate in the world
    It is infecting our everyday life
    A 19-year-old rapes and kills a 66-year-old woman because he “had nothing better to do”
    Children can not go to a movie, school, shopping, or a basketball game
         without some kind of violence: gun, knife, or words

I write
   because school board members have personal agendas
   Teachers are burned out from testing
        tired from screaming parents (that won’t return a shopping cart)
   Students don’t even care what they will be when they grow up
   They have the newest app, Facebook friends, and 10k likes
    How can you want anything more than that?

I write
    because there is enough money
    It just isn’t used for the the things we say are important
    We preach one message but spend on something else
    Even the civility we get from the drive thru is scripted

I write
    because sunsets and sunrises never stop being beautiful
    A day is always an opportunity to show love
    Even if it is as simple as returning a few carts to the corral

I write
     for my family and friends
     To let them know I love them
     That I will stand for them
       no matter the rising waves of pain in this world

I write
  because my heart beats blood through my veins
  pulsing to my fingers
     that produce these words
     this poem
     for you to read