Bees

There's something romantic about bees. Mostly how they sting. How they pierce the skin with this tiny, venomous Black needle and know as they fly away, Their stinger ripping out of them, That they will surely die. They know that it's their last resort, They just don't care. To protect their hive, Their Queen, These …

Split Pea Soup

Brother and I were hunting fairies and Catching colds in the winter air From staying out too late trying to snatch   Shooting stars with our tongues and Making wishes on falling flakes of snow. Dreaming of days when Mom’s voice,   Breathing miasma into our fairyland of snow, Wouldn’t beckon us inside to sit …

Tequila Twilight

  Sunlight succumbs too swiftly to the moon, leaves you to drown in twinkling tequila twilight until the sun appears again, a temptress to your longing, and once more fades too quickly into night and leaves you dreaming in the dark of brighter day to pump to life the lifelessness inside you, when you drowned …

Me, in colors

- Crafted from captions found in a CCC worker’s picture album. A lost story of a lost love. They woke me up for this one- Bright Eyes, the self-made man, Gig the Barber, the Oregon lady killer-   to take a picture of me, in colors, and replace the ones of you in my black paged …

Lava Blue

So chaos again subsides to peace;   so again can sullen eyes be brightened.   As all great waves these times will turn, smooth to softly swelling froth.   Surrender to its presence, gaze into the stormy eye, drown in thoughts and choke on salt within your lungs,   let it toss you in the …

Children of War

Image by André Kertész, 1915 "The Fairy Tale" For those still suffering from war and disaster, and in memory of those who have served and are serving. Look, these quiet men: lungs caked by the dirt between their bare toes and the broken walls they lean on, their only solace resting open between the three …

a bipolar ode

the weather sucks today the sun rose sultry grey   it’s supposed to be sunny tomorrow and i love the orange sun rays   and i hate the rain’s tears on frosted window glass   smiling shy though the clouds, shining bright blue sky between its teeth   trapping me in a black stone prison, …