poetry
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A Private Symphony
When deep breaths are like swallowing hurricanes that stir up in your stomach like roller-coasters and leave you holding on to jagged tooth remains of your invisibility call upon the deliverance of notebooks and journals or the speedy salvation of the keyboard make them your masterpieces Those days When you feel like quarter notes beaten… Continue reading
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Un-Pretty
She was fourteen when the uglies came fourteen when she realized that she was un-pretty You see her mom’s mother’s mother, and her mother before that began the process of digestion that would take place through generational blood cells that rejected what they considered…the uglies. so she regurgitated this face given her by some fierce… Continue reading
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Show, don’t tell
“Don’t tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.” – Anton Chekhov Continue reading
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Power of Words
Do you not know that your words declare to the world who you are? I’m starting to understand more and more the power we have as individuals and how we so readily give this power away with the speed of thought. One of the reasons I happen to love words is for the power that… Continue reading
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Too Much Truth
For some, truth is just too much… its glare too distorted by the blurs in our eyes…. twisted memories that taste too strong to be anything but death and faiths that fall stone cold by the wayside. But know that it is always warmer closer to the sun. Continue reading
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Freedom: The Illusion
There’s a strange fruit hanging from the trees but not the kind of Billie Holidays days with blood all on the leaves but these are a different set of trees and they bear a strange fruit called ignorance with an illusion up its sleeve an illusion so thick sometimes it’s hard to breathe I feel… Continue reading
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I am
I am rotten lettuces on tasteless teeth twisted letters filthy rags spoiled meat I am hands shaking chills of cold winds seeping a cold soul in a cold world, I am a braggadocios body bobbing back and forth, carving bones of a sick skeletal make-up I am he who has yet to have woken up… Continue reading
