There is always a lighthouse. At the edge of the sea, at the edge of the world and at the crest of the horizon. At the fall of the woods, the curve of a road, the corner of a tea shop and the bins in an alley. Wherever it is needed, whenever it is needed; …
Embracing Vulnerability: A Motivational Poem
Vulnerability One of the most debilitating emotions anyone can ever experience. It feels mortifying to walk into a room and because of looks, experience or lack thereof, dress, voice or anything else to do with your personal identity, you feel less than. You want to run, hide and never walk into that room again. But …
How to Turn to Childhood for Inspiration
Thoughts on the Future, Looking to the Past The value of childhood lies not in the experiences the child hastily wishes themselves out of but in the years later, as the child stands with eyes toward the future and a grateful heart cast to the past. Long ago, if we pull back the vine of …
Hello, Friend, Farewell: A Poem for the Solace of Nature
Hello, friends! Unlike with the Doors of Moria, when the Fellowship in the The Lord of the Rings seek to enter the mines, there is no secret pass code for finding peace, happiness, love, any of those things. However, I find all those emotions exist at once, in your grasp, if you step out your …
Poem: Every Person a Ripple Of Whisper and Worry
Have you ever felt the gossip in your head, at the table behind or the glare of the mirror as you hurry by? As you go into the long weekend and as September hectic schedules start up after the long, laze of summer, don’t forget we’re all alike. We all worry, we all wonder. Am …
When the World Echoes
When the world echoes in one ear
out the other runs a voice
in a flapper dress.
You have no choice to put on a show. Offs
any notion of peace.
And when they say, just carry on, the voice
runs a marathon of laughter.
It says in a whisper haunting each step,
You’re an ant on a boot which walks the Milky Way.
Remember that when you think you’re okay.
You try to scream for the red stop light.
But voice careens into your mind,
metallic bits of self. Scatter, clatter, fall.
Bounce once. Bounce twice.
And they say, just carry on.
We don’t see any blood.
So you carry on, because the blood’s in your head.
Always there, dripping.
but outside you aren’t slipping.
It stays in your cave.
Stalactites and stalagmites in mind.
Waiting to spear you thrice the next time
you fail at life.
When the world echoes in one ear
out the other runs a voice
in a flapper dress.
Your legs are not yet chopped. Don’t be weak.
Says the voice. The lights are up, the music started.
Just carry on.
Just carry on shouting to silence.
You’re only an echo.
Sing for Mercy, Oh Mercy: A Poem
They
buried her throne
They sat
her there.
They tied
her to a windsor chair.
All while
singing for mercy.
They beat
her blue.
They
turned her back.
They ran
her with a line of prozac.
All the
while singing for mercy.
It’s a
lone and a long walk to mercy.
She
called a trade.
She
kicked up twice.
She
spread her legs in a desperate heist.
All the
while singing for mercy.
She flipped
a smile.
She
measured due south.
She
whispered to the prison guard’s mouth.
All the
while singing for mercy.
It’s for
mercy. Not for her mercy.
They tied
her eyes.
They cut
her ears.
They put
her in a thousand mirrors.
All the
while singing for mercy.
They
burned her sun.
They shattered
her sight.
They took
away all her might.
All the
while singing for mercy.
Not her
mercy. It’s for mercy.
For their
long walk alone to mercy.
Cry out
for mercy. Stand for mercy.
All we
have left in the end.
Is mercy.
You Will Be Queen When Nine Geese Fly: A Mythical Poem
You will be queen when geese fly Six in a row across moonlit ladder to sky. You will be queen when dust on the wind Wanders from sun lit shards to its constellation kin. You will be queen when clouds roll back In a tell of the truth over fact. You were meant to be …
This Dream of Ours Shines Fireflies: A Poem for Wanderers
This dream of ours sits on the water
buoyed by a flame of fireflies.
They dance on the edge of vision
before fading into the arms of the moon.
This dream of ours lives in legs of wood
framed in firelight. Making dawn out of darkness.
It feels smooth in a fist of hope at the edge of the lake
where we stand. Ready to walk the waves
and rise with the fireflies.
Into starlight, beyond thought.
This dream of ours. It breathes
sparks of fire light and flies into a sky.
That we touch with every hand which grasps wood
and walks on, into this dream of ours.
Misery Loves the View of Company: A Lonely Poem
Gather around, Misery. Let’s play murder. To start, we want them young. Let’s relieve you of your burden. That parasite. Eats you to death. Let’s watch them grow into thin. Twirl, ballerina, twirl. Fall as Ophelia fell. Let’s dance off the edge of the skyline. The news said you shone. Brilliant. Down to the murk …