Ashen hearts and Blackened hands,
Pickled beliefs and Sour love,
Crooked toes and Bent backs,
Tarnished lies and Bloody truths.

Raucous laughs and Calloused knuckles,
Simple honesty and Naieve trust,
Proud shoulders and Unblinking gazes,
Shrewd generosity and Accurate distaste.


Awake and Empty,
looking at a Purple Sky,
filled with Orange Cream Clouds
and Ebony Faces.

touching the Brittle Grass,
Flowers shattering with a Breath.

standing, sitting, collapsing,
the Purple Sky whizzing overhead.

the White Sun blazes,
Blistering Ice upon Crowned Heads,
we must escape the Clear Cold,
so grab the Reins of the Faceted Steeds.

Galloping until the White Sun
crumbles into a Pulsating Moon.
the Mounts, exhausted, crumble -
their Remains floating to join the Stars.

our Transportation, crumbled and gone,
now left with only the Moon and Stars.
Where do we go now?

the Moon now sets,
yet the Sun does not show.
the Sky melts into the Land,
no Light left 'cept the Lumination of the Eyes.

a Ripple, a Shimmer and a Blast,
the Darkness vibrating with Bass
Sound without origin,
overflowing with Purpose.

A Stone Tree

It spilled out,
from one horizon to another,
and torched the blanketed mountains,
with nothing left but a single tree.

The tree stood alone,
standing against the nothingness,
eons passing slowly,
until the tree turned to stone.

One stone tree,
in a courtyard of thought,
with the witness of me,
and an ability to do naught.

What then, is the purpose?
A stone tree,
alone with one witness,
with the end approaching brusquely.


Sitting, staring, waiting,
bored and useless.
Hoping for a call,
an email, anything to prove my worth.

A tiny paycheck,
a menial job
terrible hours –
anything better than boredom.

Knowing I can achieve more,
a desire to make a real difference,
yet somehow ecstatic
to get a job packing boxes.

How to find meaning
in a world dominated by
A desire to be self sufficient
becomes an unbearable burden.

I just want to be useful.

The Talking House

Lights off, starlight the only glow,
empty plate sitting on the table.
Outside, the only sound comes
from snow falling and
raccoons stealing from cats.

Inside is much different,
the house trying to tell a story.
From the bathroom,
a swishing sound, the toilet
letting me know of its woes.

A sound barges out of the kitchen,
the fridge emitting a bass whoosh,
alerting me of it's hard work,
keeping beer and chicken cold.

Seeping from the floorboards,
creaking and moaning,
the hot air tells me
of its dedication
in keeping the cold outside.

A slithering falls from the ceiling,
the language of the roof
drips in a whisper down to the bed,
speaking quietly of the arduous task,
keeping snow suspended off the ground.

All parts of the house,
speaking in different languages,
forming a symphony,
only as loud as we allow it to be.

Quiet Christmas

Waking up, cold seeping in
from the window next to the bed.
The house, usually loud with roommates,
sits quite, all having gone to see family.

Peace and quiet, so often asked for,
and so often appreciated,
seems like an unwelcome guest
on Christmas day.

The loneliness of a quite Christmas,
if looked at closely enough,
bears just as many gifts
as a house full of family.

Time to think, to pray,
to be thankful for a roof and warm food.
Time to be grateful for the loneliness,
for people worth missing
are a beautiful thing.

Learning to appreciate the quiet,
to understand the gift of a lively home,
to see the beauty
in the differences inherent in both.



The antidote to laziness,
catalyst of success.
More heroic than heroes themselves,
an ineffable quality seemingly innate.

A tenuous hold, grasping breathlessly,
forever evasive,
harder to catch than a beautiful woman.

A problem in and of itself,
the solution teasing us always.


The Drive

Yes and no, success and failure,
anxiety waiting on the cusp of every conversation.
No satisfaction, no complacency,
relaxation a luxury, stemming from burnout.

Where does it come from,
this desire to succeed,
to push further and further?
Satisfaction reserved
for the bigger and better.

Body slumping, slouching, slithering with apathy
when defeat appears,
sweat dripping in anxious rivers
when success suggests new responsibility.

Life fractured, begging reaction,
never able to conclude what is better.
Stagnation and ease,
continued stress and success,
or even a recession to less,
all begging to be pursued.