Posted in life, love, Parenting, Parenting and Poetry, Poetry

New Wings

Annoyed sighs

arrhythmic stomps

eye rolls

and snarky commentary

that leans toward


Defensiveness, awkward insecurity –

Ooh, attitude.

Confusion and changes, changes.

Outward bravado

masks inner vulnerabilities
[that give way to strength]

self-expression reduced to

code words, shorthand

and random dance moves.

And still,

a middle-of-the-road beauty

about it all –

Shrugging off the protective cocoon of childhood,

Growing swiftly into new wings.

But in the meantime, tempered outbursts

and shy laughter.


Passengers, we’ve reached adolescence.
You are now free to fly
to your destiny;

Aloft, as you flutter by…

I’m just along for the ride.


Posted in life, Parenting, Parenting and Poetry, Poems to my children, Poetry

Tainted Legacy

Running hard and
pounding pavements –
trying to escape my roots;
Damaged, ultimately tainted.
Who wouldn’t,
Mom’s a basketcase;
Dad an alcoholic
to boot?

I have no friends.

I can’t talk to them;
And not because
that door’s not open…
Moreso because
I don’t want to be like them,
and yet somehow still –
I’m hopin’…

Things will change.
I tell myself this;
Not sure at this point if
I really believe it
or my forced ignorance
unhindered bliss.

I still have my kids to raise
and wondering if they feel
the same ways
about me…
Keeps me up
for days.

I can’t help
but surmise
that maybe
I’ve fucked this all up…

Lateness of the night
as decided by fireflies –
While they sleep,
I refill my cup.
It’s only insomnia…right?

In a tumbler
or two, maybe three…
Solitude is dangerous,
it don’t give us
Us free.

It hurts to consider
I’m much like my parents,
selfish and bitter
Unable to stare “it”
in its eyes –
Never once have I really
been good at goodbyes.

But today is its own change,
though I know that seems strange –
One day my children
will explore untapped wilderness
of lonely desperation;
Unrepressed, raw, and deranged.

I can only hope
what they find in those
are [the] refrains needed
to overcome,
rather than to simply just

I’m running, I’m sweating,
I’m hot as hell…
Harder and faster,
and faster, still –
toward all my bullshit,
it all rolls downhill…
an unlikely avalanche
of censorial guilt.

Welcome to the house
that my pain built.

I’m moving up, rising above;
All I can think to do
is pour into them
all my patience
and unconditional love.

Legacy is cyclical,
generation(s) of ritual
branded into us
with blood, and also, victuals.

Bones only hold the tired,
quiet as that’s kept…
Small wonders my father and mother
ever truly slept.

Posted in New Work, Parenting, Parenting and Poetry, Poems to my children, Poetry, Self-discovery and growth, Thoughts and Ruminations

Optimistic Hopes

All I can think of these days
is all I endure
and I tell myself
it’s so
my daughter doesn’t have to
when she encounters the world
on her own.

But the sad fact is
I’m raising her
to be prepared
to endure the same things,
and it hurts me
to my soul…

The thought that
she’d ever have to
diminish herself
for another’s comfort,
or approval
is painful to conceive of…

I have optimistic hopes
that her life, her future
will be kinder to her
than mine has been
to me.

And even still,
I look at the world around me,
the shambles I find it in,
and I wonder
how we got here,
and when
we’ll get to leave.

Posted in New Work, Parenting, Parenting and Poetry, Poems to my children, Random, Self-discovery and growth, Thoughts and Ruminations, Uncategorized


With just a simple thought,
the firing of a synapse,
the striking of nerves,
the launching of cells,
power emerges.

The power to create –
with only an unspoken command…
rawness and rarity.

The epitome of true talent;
How beautiful the mind is
that even subconsciousness
affects reality.


18 September 2019