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tgif
me Friday. Yay! Bars. Cigars. Beer? “Here!” Wine. Dine. Me. (See?) Home. Roam. Alone. And I prefer it that way. … *Enough with the bad poetry, already! Back to my “usual” stuff soon. … *image:...
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the last piece (or, i lied)
There are things you learn to live with. Things that never cross your mind—until “that time.” That time when you’re ordering at Starbucks and the barista says: “What was that?” “I’m sorry, can you...
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walls
In sadness I fly on what could be, what should be. In madness I try to find vic’try, make his’try. In gladness I cry I’m empty, can’t touch me. And then I break down. … *image credit:...
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finding a balance
I fell in love for the first time in the sixth grade. He was an “older man.” A whopping fourteen. Two years later, he noticed me. The awkward middle schooler was growing up. We wrote letters over a...
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carry on
Alone I sit and contemplate this thing that we call life: Desires we cannot satiate, the struggles and the strife. I wonder why we do it now, I wonder why we try. I wonder why we carry on, why not lay...
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on and on you go
From here to there and everywhere, on and on you go. I hear you there, or is it there? Your face, you’ll never show. O’er sea and over mountain, continent and plain, in Africa and Asia . . . The world...
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on and on you go (take two)
Please don’t hate me! I was not content with my first version of this poem. Something about the third stanza (and a few other things) just didn’t fit. So I revised it, and here it is. Most of you know...
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why “shift”?
Today is a bit rushed. I have several posts in draft, but recently have been working on updating Shift. In particular, I’ve made quite a few changes to my menu. If interested, check out my “about”...
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thank you . . . and you and you and you and . . .
Sketch by Matthew Curry Something I didn’t expect when I started blogging was a) that anyone would actually read what I wrote, and b) that I would make true friends through my blog. Some of you have...
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the butterfly
The tears do tumble down my face, the one who doesn’t cry. You wonder why I’ve lost my grace who watch the poet die. There is a place ‘yond time and space, it’s here alone I fly. And yet it’s here...
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