Wednesday, April 27, 2011


in the faint glow of morning, after the night sky has kissed itself away, there lies a single moment of repose following the chronic tictoc of the perpetual supposing clock. i have made certain of certainty as the light flushes my face; i am bathed in understanding, i am confident in my wake. my sheets enfold me, embracing my tender heart, laughing as they touch me from the tickle of my thumbs. there is a softness that holds me, as i waken to the dawn … it is blurred with provision, and enchanted from his love. purpose supports me as my legs stand on their own, and i am guided by ambition, i do not stand alone. my eyes, they widen, with reality unscathed; awakening to showcase, a myriad of melodramas, no longer called my prose. i walk now with valor, speaking hellos to the day … i am ready for adventure, and to commence the dawn of new decade.

“in the light of morning” steve hanks

Tuesday, April 19, 2011


this will be a random stream of consciousness that may or may not come out poetically. feeling the need to write. for change. for exploration. for movement. for stillness. stillness first, before movement, but both i crave; in massive doses. feeling resistance to move. feeling fear of the unknown. i am seeking the sound of my life right now. i'm tired of just living the days without meaning, without knowing what it is I'm doing.

Thursday, April 14, 2011


desire is strong. it leads by a scent that I attract in waves. though I am covered with thistles from thorns that I’ve found, my love is in a state of pure disarray. It is a conjunction of sorts; the kind that you find in knotted sentences, strewn into phrases that make nonsense stand still. chaos breathes her charm into the energy that touches me, from you, from him, and he and it. the price of love enfolds me with lessons I’m still shifting through. I understand now, without envy, as I peer into the world. i touch tangles, vulnerable and raw that are twisted into a web of mirrored misunderstanding. It is evident we are misleading ourselves into thinking we are ok. your words speak to me in the shadows, and like a riddle I start to put our story into a brilliant work of art. your soul breathes its breath into my lungs, whose laughter then, echos inside of me, bringing about a peace that I unfold and lay on top of me. happiness is a dragon whose fire is my key.

photo by: http://kat-johnston.blogspot.com/

Tuesday, April 5, 2011


I have words hidden for you inside my breast, a decade long it would seem. A brook full of sentences laced into the wooly armpit of the dress you bought me, full of pitted dreams. I have completed paragraphs filled with acronyms, waiting diligently to be seen; their mouths chock-full of birds who croon and swoon and cry and sing. my flight to you has been dictated by your wolverine-like barricades; the postings of your laughter, the distant travels of your toes. you hurl me insults with your love as your penance is displayed; a blatant showcase of ha-ha-ha’s and this is what you missed, ta-da’s. my loathing, though sporadic, sometimes stems inside my knees, growing in velocity, pining as its pleased. I sit afar and watch your combat, as I soak in lemonade. I feel its tonic flutter through me, reminders of those days. I softly miss those nights of beauty, brazen in their birth, and your eyes whose gaze engulfed me simply, feeding fire to my bones.

photo found at: http://ungravenimage.com/images/GenesisSunsetVisualAIDS2010.jpg