New Day Year

Downtown Christmas lights
are overdue today
Today is new
Every day is new
I suppose
But today I am new
I do not know how
But I am
I breathe I see
Oxygen is crisp wind
tickling my heart
Swaying grass
imbibed to skin
Insides are twirling
Soul has arteries, They are
bursting from too much
Too much
Yesterday is dead
so I died with her
There are not balloons on my porch
but I imagine there could be –
Celebration is due
There are oranges at my window
There is nothing but me,
The air
There are blues and yellows on the pillow, under my case
paid and bought for only me
Green for heart, Green for feet
Today is alive
as I am as I
As yesterday is:
Overdue, expected.

Artist Without Art

The only good thing about me
is that my love for humanity
creates the perfect mirage
of joy
and pure empathy
(also known as despair)
enough to
my every action
as honorable or desperate

both of which scenarios
find defeat
in my pure artistry

(which is invisible on the spectrum of

Post-Adolescent Diary

Within one month, I have had my heart broken by a lover and have been informed by my mother that my parents are separating, too. I went from ‘college graduate’ back to unfortunate and unwilling student due to a technicality.
I thought my path seemed stable and clear, but I was slapped with the dues of my human  ignorance and expectance.
Life is never known or sure – life is not mundane or easy or predictable for me. I am scared but I think I am thriving from my suffering; I am awakened at all the wrong moments.
The wrong moments are the most right. Nothing is stable. Nothing is clear. I am not stuck.
I am building my path and the path is vicious.
I am vicious, too, though.

Blue Moon and Oranges

You don’t know
how much I love you

I love you like
a meteorite
and all the metaphors and similes
I can’t get quite right

I love you like burning redemption and care
you are mine

So I can stare
with my eyes
as much as I can look
and you are much too good
to look at

I am yours
so I curl into your body
like your stomach were sleep
and I wake with your breathing
like your breath were a dream

I love you like an idiot
on stage
performing a naked mantra
in a make-believe play

I behold your grace
as words to say
as touching you
were more sacred
than hope as I pray

You are Moon
You are Sun
You are my shadow in blue
when the time has come

I love you like
a morning song
that woke me up too loud
I love you as war
fought with no cause to be proud

I love you
like all poems unimagined
You are mine,
all mine,
to give and be doubted

You are mine to keep so divine,
whispered and shouted
You are mine to take,
You are my blood and my blues

So my heart remains crowded,
bleeding internally all night
red and awake
with you as my moon

Hanging My Molt

I am not who I used to be

I am a new person
with ripe, new skin
precocious in atomic intent

I have shed
my old flesh
and blame it for being frivolous
but still keep it hanging in the closet
for decorative regress

I am not what I was
I am/have been
worn away with natural consequence –
flood damage of old friends
and solar winds of ideas
without an end
tornados of lost opportunity
that lost their spin

I am no longer a child,
I am tired
of jumping from trees
believing I will fly

I am no longer amazed
by the countless first-times
that are now ‘once then’
or many times later

I am a new person
wiser and shallower and whatever I am
with all the almosts and
the not even closes

I am not who I was
no matter how vacuous
it is to say so

I have scars and dependence
and money paid
in place of love and innocence
and the beckon
of “what if”

I have this new jumpsuit
so skin-tight that it may be skin, itself –
replaced and cheap and worn
with much too much to eat
and too much death to have been born

I wait as I wait
with a layer of sames
As I shed and I shed
until I’m dead as I came

un tItled fIrst and last

Talk in b
Can n ot
k SMall

Well, Well

The music comes a
gain Over

Goes un

I was Born
that day

Di ed
mel-ody  ‘s

A fetus

with the

In fetal

Shallow knee-d

Swaddled in lay
ers of

SPeak Up wake Up
sing Up

Open eyes

for No

Dream in
dream in
in guise

I am not
a  fraid  To

To Wake
In dark – ly
sparking Anti

Matter gues sing

Deep breather I am the
gratefully Grace

Keep’to Here

dreaming near Myself
is You un

Clearly merely
a guest to guess all
pleases A
nd pleasers

You me
i wake large

Sleep Small an

as I re charge

born to Use-less
ears de af

dark wit h