Living in LA, I see a lot of *interesting* people wandering the streets. While driving to work the other day, I saw a rough-looking woman (probably in her 60s) walking with a man who was slowly riding a bike. She looked worn and weary, and I wondered what her story was. My heart went outContinue reading “blue robe”
Tag Archives: poetry
i did a photo series inspired by my debut novel
Photography is a sweet solace for me, if not a bit chaotic. When I get an idea, I pull out my camera and begin snapping. I live by myself so I have to rely on my camera’s self-timer, which can be frustrating. I wouldn’t have it any other way, though. That frustration—that marriage between ideaContinue reading “i did a photo series inspired by my debut novel”
my latest moody poems
NO 1. PROMPT: “old times” Maybe new times Are just old times in disguise NO 2. PROMPT: “feelings” How deep is the well of my feelings take a bucket and drain me dry don’t worry how i collapse into dust NO 3. PROMPT: “tragedy” Life took me one tragedy at a time until i wasContinue reading “my latest moody poems”
a cloudy morning
caliber
I thought i was different from them. all along, just figured i was the wrong caliber. but i was naive. in the hands of the right marksman, in the barrel of the right gun . . . i’m the same round. / but give me time. i’m exploding in my youth— i’ve quickly learned theContinue reading “caliber”
give it all away
Adolescent six feet under Gave his life in ’42 Shot five times by Swastika battalions— “That’s what I paid for freedom But you’d give it all away.” Father of five beneath A block of cement Gave his life in 1863 Looked behind him At his black brothers— “That’s what I paid for freedom But you’dContinue reading “give it all away”
oldest daughter
Hodge podge, mismatch, Broken dreams, whiplash— Oldest Daughter: Quiet ghost, Weakened knees, Forlorn coast. Shattered glass, Failing heart, Empty room Torn apart. Look in her eyes, They’re dead as dirt— It’s loving things That’s bound to hurt.
incapable
To become an adult You must realize You are utterly incapable and can’t do anything And yet choose Daily To do exactly that— Anything and Everything and a whole lot of Somethings.
dragons
I remember As a child Thanking God that dragons weren’t real — But they are — Their faces are flesh But their hearts are scaly The tongues of men Burn and bury Their hands covet The gold of forbidden pleasure Yes dragons are alive Dragons are alive and well
smile
And then I noticed it— I don’t smile Like I used to. The girl in the pictures is bursting With something I lost long ago. — Then I see it— Not something Good or Bad But rather A maturing of the cheekbones, An ironing of the soul. You see, Those smiles were born of Flimsy,Continue reading “smile”