White Picket Fence (guest feature – poem)

In resonance to my frustration with the Lyft driver’s attitude yesterday, one of my dearest loves and relatively new writer gave me permission to share his own distaste with such attitudes and lifestyles, expressed here through poesy. You worked hard for that status, didn’t you… You worked hard to be in that tax bracket.You worked…

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To the Lyft Driver that Fucked Up

Maybe it started as an accident when you decided to tell two teachers that “those kids can’t learn, and they’re all from southeast. I hate to say it, but they just can’t learn.” Maybe what you meant was that the way the system is set up, institutional we make it harder for them to learn, we have created…

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Self-Musing 4 (poesy)

Strong Applied liberally to others But like the root that dies To give sustenance My tongue fell out of my mouth Upon looking in the mirror. You don’t know of the grace with which I’ve maneuvered through the darkest paths to no fault of anyone but the trumpet who so loved its very own existence,…

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Heaven’s mess

(A throwback)   The place I heard heaven’s message was where I stood and could see no distinction between the parts of you and the parts of me, mixed up in beautiful chaos, and realized experiencing the universe was what we called “love.” It has been ever so simple since.

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…

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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…

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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…

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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…

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