Posts for June 20, 2023

bird song
before the sun
little fluff ball with dreams
aspiring to be a rooster
shut up

maybe im not cut out for this
love shit 

im an overthinker
sensitive as hell
and quite annoying

its been 2 years but i still
question whether or not 
im the right person

reading romance novels doesnt 
make me an expert 
and watching romance movies
doesnt make me know any more than i did 

maybe im just not cut out for this 
love shit

they say the earth

has a frequency

at 7.8

some claim

it has the potential

to heal

all I need is my head

on your chest

an arm over the shoulder

to mend

everything

Moments in time
not that long ago,
held in place by
pictures and videos,
to keep them from slipping
from our oh-so flawed,
fragile
human minds.

There is a video 
of a girl–
not yet talking.
She launches herself
into her father’s arms
in a way she hasn’t
in years.

The video plays on loop,
forever immortalizing
a time long past.

Strange,
how we cling
to memories
and times of old
with aging fingers,
as though if we hold them in our hands
that will be enough to 
keep them in our minds.

But when I watch the videos,
I see nothing but a stranger
claiming to be me.
I see myself leap
into my father’s arms-
a moment that will now 
never be forgotten,
and yet never quite
remembered.

It sits 
in between,
where all the forgotten moments go
to be immortalized.

There’s a calling in my bones
Making it’s way
To the surface of my skin
A pulse within my chest
That I’m certain no one hears but me
The sensational vibrato 
Which rattles my rib cage 
Making me white-knuckle-cling
To the steering wheel column
Driving with a hellbound sunset 
Laid out across the horizon 
To destination absolutely nowhere
It all sounds to damned stunning to me 
Thrumming a beat within me 
Along the highway with no regrets 
Wind freely flowing 
Through my tangled locks 
The taste of freedom
Just a little more recent with every fill up
With no plans on a return date 
Someday I’ll get there. 

So as I dance in my underwear

And dig my toes in mud,

Giggle at my own thoughts,

Give everyone my all

Drive too fast,

Find peace in the mountains

Write stories,

And organize everything,

It’s the small things my soul does

That I find so much comfort in,

And I hope maybe one day,

Someone else will love them like I do

When I go to bed
            My hair scarf is on my head
                   When I drive with my top down
                               My hair scarf goes on my crown
                     In bed
             Hair scarf on head
Top down

Hair scarf on crown

Bed
       Head
                 Down
                            Crown

My hair scarf is all around 

I can’t poem today.

I try but, hey,

too many distractions

are in my way.

I just came to say

I can’t poem today.

I can’t poem today.

I tried to write

a haiku or two

for you

but they just won’t do.

I can’t poem today..

I can’t poem today..

I tried to write a sonnet

but my heart was not on it,

writing like Petrarch

makes me want to vomit.

I can’t poem today..

I can’t poem today..

I thought a limerick would suffice

but I have to put that stuff on ice.

It turned out dirty and not so nice.

I can’t poem today..

I can’t poem today..

I tried to write an ode

but it left me cold

This poetry game has got me beat.

I’m no John Keats.

I can’t poem today..

I can’t poem today.

I try to pour all my sorrow

onto the page.

It feels hollow.

I can’t poem today.

Maybe tomorrow.

Some in fists, some not,

smoke already history, or not.

Not a single safe in sight.

Your words unearth the unspeakable,
brand truth into my mind and soul. 
My eyes meet the eyes of freed
children at Camp Nelson. 
1867
Just 100
years before
I was
born.