The foil crown and cardboard throne (a poem)

I live in DC. When I first moved here, I took a bus every morning that rode me past the White House, down the mall, and across the river, all typically before the sun painted these in the pleasant hues that inspire patriotism for buildings and monuments constructed in architecture paying homage to a fallen…

For my muse (a micropoem)

Just renewed my domain. Three year anniversary, after a dark, nameless slump of antagonostic blank pages. The brief turned into a chapter into an epic Carolyn Forche style. 3 years ago My pen alive again So inspired I kissed you And every time my lips parted Words tumbled secrets Buried into your beard The greatest…

The last we spoke (a micropoem)

Because that’s what hometowns make: High school “remember the time..?”s And coffins for the people who die young, Those left and waiting recording the absentees in sorry but frank conversation over coffee Like a reunion roll call.

The unmarked boxes in my closet

I had a legal marriage once. He was noble, sweet, compassionate, and fiercely intelligent. He loved me and I loved him. It was as simple as that (as he often said). When people asked me why I was marrying him (we were both very young, and I was somewhat of a burning car while he…

Once alive [a poetic]

I was alive before I met you. The sun rose every day, Bringing light under crevices, chasing Shadows into corners; The wind pulled my hair like A teasing child, and The moon sang her orange solo, Awaiting the sound of the wolf’s. I wrote sometimes, cooked a bit And smuggled sleep out of my pillow…

Pumpkin Spice [micropoem]

Like the discarded jack o lanterns Marking the season, I walk, a woman carved out, Without love or reason.

Open Casket

Eyes meet Strangers in a bedroom now Furtive looks away Trying to conceal the embarrassed I normally don’t do this They lie politely Taking turns reaching into the other Looking for a piece of themselves They cannot possibly recognize Too young to be properly alive Vows they gave to an idea Are the closet corpses…

immolation [a poem]

Immolation from the inside; out – The searing of bridges aflame yet can’t be burned Indestructible bonds White hot brandings Against the interior of ribs Breathe (deep): into the water dive – wait it out on the  ebb and flow   of the universe’s directives time will cool what destiny forged.

you called for me (a micropoem)

I awoke snuggled into your mind, Clutching your brain close under me, My pillow. Let me stroke ease into your heart, Kiss your third eye, And straddle your [root] chakra To bring you back into the heavens Of our personal dimension. Skin to skin, Soul in soul, I’m here to hold. . . . ….