Posted in love, New Work, Poetry

Headache Prone

You make my head hurt –
every time you’re close
my mind travels
to lives of past vibrance
we once

You’re different there;
So was I –
but our soul flames always knew
how to find their twins
in each other…

You don’t like eloquence
and poetry
or prose;
And I’m prone to
thinking of ways
to tell you I knew you once,
many times over.

It hurts my head,
but then maybe I don’t even have to
say anything.
Or just maybe, I think too much.

Posted in New Work, Poetry, Uncategorized

Pheno(t)menally Okay

I am not okay…

…but I guess I’ve wanted to be for so long
that I pretended I was.
I function.
And often, I’m even happy;
Smiles, rare conversation –
But when I look at my life,
I realize how many of the things I own
first belonged to someone else’s collection –
of thoughts, ideas, innovations

and I’m flustered
at my lack of ability and motivation
to create my own collections –
Have I ever really owned
any of the pieces of my life?

To think, for myself –
I once wanted the world,
but only so I could give it back
to its natives
and its guardians.

Now, instead, I’ve assimilated –
and donate my ideas
to unworthy organizations
for mere pittances;
any salaries received
less than my true worth;
insulting to my value –

– My intellect could build nations
if I just focused it
on making changes
rather than making small change.

Just [enough] to get by?
But it’s not…enough.
Enough to simply coexist
when I should truly live.

My mind is encrypted
and at rest;
Its data valuable.
At ease, at attention…
I soldier through endless days
using my intelligence
to feed artificially-generated

Existence is a given,
life a gift –
Though I own my existence,
I’ve given too much of life
to those who don’t value

And it’ll be now
that I reclaim my own life,
and create the future
I want to see.

I remain limitless
boundaries can’t fathom me.

And so, I’m not okay…
But I am pretty phenomenal.


A cat ponders,

with eyes squinted sagely,

and daintily tucked-under paw;

curled tail,

and inquisitive ears,

how Sol came to be

and also is

and just briefly wonders

why he is too.

Then he naps.

Posted in New Work, Poetry, Random, Uncategorized

Moments [Baby Can We]

your mind is my oasis;

an uncertain paradise,

a respite…


the world

and all its confusion.

your arms my haven,

within them

I find

peace, strength.

calm in my calamity,

you soothe the aches in my heart –

heal the cracks in my soul.

baby, can we just…

lay here?

can we…

find the divinity the world never gave us?

in each other’s arms…

baby, can we just


here, with each other;

all is right

even if it’s wrong

even if we’re confused,

right now,

there’s nothing but this moment.

I just wanna imbibe in you.

Can we just…

can we?