The poet’s plight — I am a poet, and that is my plight. I try to write memoir, but all I do is fight — with the idea that the truth is easier said when packaged as rhyme. All wounds heal, or so they say, “give it time.” But this cut feels fresh, so…

We get what we can take — A prose poem. Last night I watched a man pay for his packs of Coca-Cola with a bag of spare change. His toothless frown — emboldened by the wrinkles encasing his face. …

Keeps me in line — “Oh, earth, you’re too wonderful for anybody to realize you.” Thornton Wilder, Our Town There’s not much new to this place we call Earth — the wallpaper, once silk grandeur, is cracked, and people don’t want wallpaper anymore. Or that’s what “they” say, and I guess it’s true — this…

Antediluvian Manifestations — There is a life beyond the river of self-limiting belief. A redefinition of existence on our terms — untethered from the mundane expectations set for us by prisoners of an unimaginative trance. Across that twisting river of troublesome toil — on the other side of that insipid ravine lies a…

Every loss requires healing — You may experience immense sadness even when the “wrong” thing ends. Relationships and roles that — didn’t serve your true self still played a real part, shaping you now. Grieving heals. You can cry. Grief is confusing. One, it never follows a singular track; instead, it winds about cyclically —…

I have been the brightest star — I have been the brightest star, shining through the drudgery of a cloud-soaked sky. “Oh, how marvelous you are” — sustained on morsels of praise sent aloft by stranded travelers on their way to nowhere. I have been the quiet stream, roaming through the thick weeds of your backyard. “Oh…

Fully actualized life — Unfinished poems collect dust. In digital drawers — delayed. My heart. Can I trust? In time, I will find the right words — the perfect rhyme to articulate the pain and passion that is now latent. Waiting. Will the sun dawn one morning only to watch me sleep and then…

What will be will be — What if it was enough? What I said then — on that day — even if it came out crooked and off-tempo — even if it hit that spot inside of you that no one dares to glimpse, let alone touch. What if ineloquence was the balm you craved? What…

Adrift on the Sea of Dreams Come True — I woke up adrift on the Sea of Dreams Come True. Flat-backed on a makeshift raft, unsure how far south I was from the nightmares that might set me free. Days lapsed, and nights came to pass, and I marveled at the promise of this place foretold. I had done…