Tuesday, November 7, 2017

And We All Fall Down

And we all fall down
    Our pockets full of troubles
Dreams burnt to ashes
When all we really want is to be free again like children

Time makes our days turn into months
And our months into years
    Taking us away from hours spent
    Playing in the sunshine
        Dancing in the grass until

We all fall down
Scrape our knees
    Bruise our elbows
Only now we have to
     Dust off our own pants
Fix our own bike chain
    And find a way to dry our tears

The nursery rhymes have faded
      Only echos now
Happy memories that wilt our hearts
       Like dying posies

Friday, October 20, 2017


As my words
Like the glaze on a day-old donut
Stale, yet still just good enough to eat

As my words
Pile up
Like a 13 car accident on the highway
Horrific, yet glad it is not in your lane

As my words
Like the autumn leaves late in October
Beautiful, yet crushed underneath your sole

As my words
Fade away
Like the tingle of a first kiss
Intense, yet not ready to fully commit

As my words
Fill in
Like a coffee in the morning cup
Fresh, yet sipped with groggy eyes

As my words
Like a butterfly in the summer
free, yet already starting to die

Blue Butterfly

Monday, August 14, 2017

The Point of Now

Count the ways
    to a single point
More than South
    North and East
A 360 degree map
    a point
        from A to B
        but to C and Z, also
    there is a time
    in fact, it is now
    even tomorrow
This point is accessible
Even for those
    who believe they are lost

Monday, July 31, 2017

If I had the Words

If I had the words
    I would be able to tell you
    that the way you turn your head
        when you laugh
        is the definition of Joy

If I had the words
    I would be able to describe
    how the curve of your hip
        sharp against the night
        is the line of Desire

If I had the words
    I would be able to express
    how holding my hand
        to walk into a store
        is the moment of Love

If I had the words
    I would be able to write
    how your nicknames
        spoken by family
        is the song of Motherhood

If I was a better poet
    or skilled wordsmith
    or even half a Romeo
        I would have the words
        to move your spirit

But all I have are these words

I love you, always

Wednesday, June 14, 2017

After the Storm

sidewalk with puddleThe clouds have receded
The concrete grey and puddled
A fresh aroma of dirt and blossoms
The sun now hot on damp skin

The fears have receded
Windows still un-cracked
The flags sagging against the pole
The sun now melting the hail

The hours have receded
Children are swinging
Mom has yelled that dinner is ready
The sun now fading below the horizon

Saturday, April 29, 2017

Fade to Nowhere

I’ll just fade into nowhere
my past like a flare into the night
I don't dare
because of the fear I feel
that no one saw
the brief burst of color
in a night sky filled with satellites
broadcasting another game
another 80’s movie
or rerunning a game show

I’ll just fade into nowhere
this moment like a flare into the sky
Stranded on an island
searching for a rescue unit
in an endless blue of
ocean and sky
not a cloud to be seen
or rain to come still
my thirst for something
more than all this space

I’ll just fade into nowhere
my future like a flare that won’t ignite
The wick wet from
tears I’ve tried to
dry with your love letters
and mail from the strangers
who seem to know
nothing of me
but want everything
I’ve built this life with

I’ll just fade into nowhere
I’ll just fade


I’ll just fade into nowhere

Monday, April 10, 2017

House to Home

There is a blue hand towel
on the floor below the right corner of the dishwasher
It leaks sometimes
I don't know why
The front door is scuffed with colors
    from the different door decorations
There are socks
in crumbled balls on the living room floor
Crumbs under the table
Toothpaste on the bathroom mirror
This is a house
        With a yard that has a few dandelions
           Nicks on the wall
And the roof has been replaced

But this is also a home
Filled with bubble baths
Family dinners
And groans when mom says it is time to clean the rooms
Pictures hang on the wall
capturing moments of joy
The DVD player has the girls’ favorite movie
The radio the boys’ favorite station
The pantry
filled with cereal and Pop-Tarts
three flavors of chips
and boxes of blueberry muffin mix
The hour is late
Time for bed
Stories and goodnights fill
the hallways
As this house rest from being a home

Friday, April 7, 2017

To the Teenage Boy Walking to School

It's been four years
since I've been in the classroom
but I still recognize the gait
    backpack slung low on the shoulders
earbuds in
    eyes on the sidewalk
head down, just a little
not gazing up at all
as if afraid to look the sun in the eye

I could tell from the look
I wonder what happens every day
    Do they taunt you
Is there someone who hates you
for no reason
Tearing up your homework between the bells
or breaking your pencils
    leaving you to take notes with a stub
or worse
    asking the teacher for a pencil
    bracing yourself for them to roll their eyes
    asking you why you never have a pencil

I speed by
    Life moves fast in the morning
    In my rearview mirror
    I watch you slowly shuffle along the sidewalk
    The school only two blocks away

    I say a small prayer
    that maybe today will be a good day
    for you

Friday, March 31, 2017


heart with chains and lock

Everyone says that forgiveness is for
    the betterment of your heart
That forgiveness releases you to be free

I can understand that

But see, no one tells you how to find the key
    or gives you the combination to the lock

if by fate
    you find how to unfasten the lock

They don’t tell you how to untangle your heart from the chains
    that you have spent years wrapping tightly around it
    Chains of time
    Chains of regrets
    Chains of promises unkept
    Chains of memories that just won't go away
The chains have become protection
You have used them to stop the bleeding
    Wrapped them in all directions
        trying to keep the blood from filling your chest
    But it still drips through the links
        At night you can hear each drop echo in your mind
Madness is found in the repeated noises of life

Other times the blood comes in a rush
Spilling down the stained chains
Life has a way of jolting us
    even on the most sunny days
So, you add another chain,
    tightening it
    wrenching it in place
        until the pain is just a dull thumping
            just behind the beat of the drips
    Chains are not made to heal wounds

See, even if you get to the point of figuring out the knot of the past
    till you can see your heart
    How do you heal the wounds
        the nicks and cuts
        let alone the gashes left unattended?

    How do you removed the indentations of the chains
        that crisscross your story?

    How do you find the faith to let your heart be unprotected?

I don’t know if I am that strong...