when the world shatters

i. when the world shatters it’ll have been my hand splintered and cut for the remorseful idiocy of holding it out for you. ii. i am the child that touched the stove and too much enjoyed the show of melting flesh to hear my breaking, painful cry. iii. hope is the most dangerous possession so…

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heaven and night: micropoems

Scraps I found while cleaning out some files from many years ago. I’ve always loved micropoems. (brocade) Sky burst with confetti flame. As a child, I believed heaven was in the sky. War thunders in my chest. Twice a year, I live to see heaven burst.   (the final say) You’ll never find me jealous of…

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Meet Me Under the Mistletoe

This one is a throwback (written in 2006), and one of the few instances I employed some rhyme and form with mild success. One of the featured poems I keep stapled to the site, it’s a good way to invite that admirer of yours a little closer this holiday season. Enjoy. Meet Me Under the…

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White Silence #whiteviolence (a poem)

I was at the [too docile] march on Washington today (which, as a 25-year-old in twenty-first century America, theory says shouldn’t have been necessary for the reasons it is – but that will be another story). Many thoughts running over my mind, including the question by some. You probably have asked it yourself. This is…

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but do you? (a short poem)

(“Always” truly means always, my dear) With a hint of sadness And human wonder It occurred to me then That perhaps we are all incapable Of truly understanding How deeply, how full Is another’s love for us. And yet, maybe not. Maybe it just takes a little more Than traditional human effort. A long shot…

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my humanity [a brief crafted thought]

There are moments, sometimes, I feel so justified in my humanity, feel so rightly vulnerable, feel excited, feel alone, feel endlessly hopeful, feel despair, feel desire for my deepest wants that burns to the point of physical ache, feel beautiful, feel foolish, feel too proud, too modest, gullible, feel too easily hurt, feel guarded, too…

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the cheesiest (a rhyme)

I’m not a rhymer, nor one for cheesy patterns and attempted meter and shit, but this light-heartedness followed me and was just what I needed to contrast the heavier piece that will be tomorrow’s finish (a crafted thought on the topic of weighing self versus community, stimulated by something a student said today that went…

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too open, honest – micropoems

(would be said) I. Trying not to think about How it feels at night Your skin, mine i. How good it feels To be so tied At the soul and mind Unbreakable ii. How lost then In silent bribe accepting To cut my tongue Sake of your peace II. I’ll never stop wanting To mimic…

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poem published in print – read it online

While in Haiti for a month, I had my mail stopped and received it in bulk just the other day. Scouring through the many depressing bills, annoying credit offers, and miscellaneous other items that simply weren’t anything but an excuse to fund the US Postal system and our tree slaying ventures, I came across my…

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because #blacklivesmatter (student work)

The most powerful thing I have the privilege of doing sometimes is being allowed and trusted enough into the lives of my students to have some very honest, open dialogues. There’s so much learned on both sides when there’s enough trust and care to be honest. These are just a handful of pledges my students…

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forever my dream

Curled in my bed, clutching, I feel your arms slide up mine, and pull my hands away from my face as you creep gently over my body to kiss that troubled look you hate to see, grabbing tears before they’ve fallen, kissing every inch of me, chasing the pain out through my skin delivering the…

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