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Wednesday, November 11, 2015

Nadiya is Here

When you were born I thought I would cry and it would be a beautiful moment.  Instead I almost shit myself.  I was absolute chaos.  Momma looked beat up and you were blue gray with your head looking like you'd been beaten with a sack of hammers.  I was terrified and only wanted to tell know that you and Jenny were okay.

Instead the doctor grabbed my attention to cut the umbilical cord and the chaos continued.  You were stripped from your mother.  We won't even talked about what was going on with your mother and nurses seemed like they were clashing into each other.  In hind sight it was all well orchestrated but in the moment I felt like I was gonna be hit by a freight train.

The nurses took you to a table tested your vitals and then gave me an Apgar score.  You got an 8.9.  I didn't expect a score that high and didn't expect a number to be the relieve my anxiety.  By the way a good bit of research for father's who are expecting.  I knew babies above an eight are considered good to go.

Mom was happy but I had seen the miracle and stress of what she had just been through.  So my focus and admiration turned towards her.   For the next few hours a rush of family and friends plowed through the birth suite.  You were quiet and polite the entire time we had visitors. 

Once, the nurses, family and friends all cleared out.  The stress was over, it was time to sleep.  You started with a fuss that quickly turned to a cry but it wasn't enough to wake your mother.  I had no clue what to do but without hesitation I picked you up.  I turned you to your side and everything I did seemed to settle you.  For the first time I looked at you clear of thought.  I looked into your eyes and in that moment I fell deeply in love with you.  You will understand one day but loving you was like feeling my life had just begun.  It seemed like I had never spent a moment without you in my life.

You soon fell back to sleep but I didn't set you down.  I simply couldn't let go of you every moment since has been so valuable.  Eventually morning came along with new visitors and return visits of our family and those were the first moments of our life.

Saturday, August 8, 2015

Nadiya's Song

(To the tune of Frere Jacques)

I am baby.
You are daddy.

Lay me down to rest.
Lay me on your chest.

I'm gonna get some sleep now.
I'm gonna get some sleep now.

Catching Z's.
Catching Z''s

I am baby.
You are daddy.

Lay me down to rest.
Lay me on your chest.

I'm gonna get some sleep now.
I'm gonna get some sleep now.

Catching Z's.
Catching Z''s

I don't really know any lullabies but I can recall the tunes so this is what I've been singing to my little girl at night.

Simply Dad

A broken body rises from bed.
The mind never questioning why.

Weary arms fold together.
With the look of loving eyes.

A broken voice sings at night.
A child softens her cries.

Fallen to sleep on my chest.
To my hearts lullaby.

Tug of Dissent

The mouth froths teeth clinched at the bit.
Pounding rumbling the distance drawing near.
Clanking rattling thunderous sounds drowned
out by the roar of a single beating heart.

The wave of man crashes together in death
and opposing ideals.  Blood spills from the
thoughts of conquest and nobility.   Each right
to self and wrong about another.

To live.  To let live.  To embrace mind sets
so strongly others condemned to die.  This is the
beginning of tyranny where freedom strikes
back to survive.  This is war.

Her Birth

Tear drops pause on the corner of my eyes.
Worried about the world surrounding her.
Grains of love pulled from endless beaches
newly discover ocean shores.

Realization she is the land stretching under
the oceans that support my love.  A cleansing
breath taken as I emerge from a world without her
coming to existence.

Waves within me wash every feeling, moment and
reason for being ashore.  Brought into focus under the
sun of  a new world.  The birth the life the mother the soul
all in front of me.

My world focused to a single thought, family.

Baby Girl

A new arrival.
Always in my life.
Only minutes here.
Emptiness of past
Fullness of future
Culminating you
A breath a cry
You are alive
I given meaning

Sunday, June 28, 2015


He has a ten foot perimeter. 
A shower wasn't a choice. 

He dragged glancing stares.
As people turn away.

Sickly throat.
Matted hair.
Broken mind
Man's despair.

No one close.
To disgust.
To find.
No help.

He found a box.
Then named John Doe.

Find restful peace.
In life you never came to know.

Thursday, April 16, 2015


alphabetically aligned poetry

rhyming metaphorically

the haiku is a way to play

to develop nature pleasantly

with this we bless

to giving meaning to me

or find what's next

an ending to never see.

Tuesday, April 14, 2015


Gently touched love floating though the air like a dandelion seed.
Drawn by the soft pull of the earth but carried by tumultuous winds.
The seeds movement is wistful the driving forces are not understood.
This is our love looking for a place to take seed searching out a place.
Each kiss of breath manipulating the course away and to it's destination.
A patch of earth found for a lucky few and root is taken, most wither and die.
For these few fewer will grow a healthy stem where a flower blossom appears.
From the blossom new generations of seeds take flight again love is gently touched.

Monday, April 13, 2015

The Accountant

Sometimes I crunch the numbers
Sometimes the numbers crunch me
Deadlines, timelines always rolling forward

Between four boring walls I sit
The content of a cell in Excel
Life a predicated formula

A spreadsheet cramped with data
A mind cramped with stress
An office occupying an organized mess.

Like an information robot
I return to work to repeat the month before.
The repetitiveness an unforgiving bore.

Everything is part of an equation, calculated
None of it human the look is on a macro level
Meaning behind results of which not one gets credit

Budgeted, variances explored, a bridge to explanation
Unseen investors peer into me without knowing my soul
Self discovery wains as I read like the page of a 10K

Lack of interest may make it more difficult to be human
Not being able to reduce hours may negatively impact family life.
No time from work increase my vulnerability to the company.

I am the report.

Drunk and Disorderly

I had a hard time getting home tonight. The police pulled up to the side of the road with flashing red and blue. They asked me to walk a blurred line, stand on one foot when I had not legs and then touch my nose with eyes closed.  Chaotic instructions delivered with challenges of immense difficulty.  When I blew it was a relief until I registered a point zero two eight. The cops towed my car and impounded my soul even though I deserved worse. I hit a minivan that night with a five member family I reduced to three. Their cries are engraved in platinum on my memory.  I still focus on those faces with unanswered pleas. A week later I made bail and was charged with murder in the first degree. My lawyer plead it down to a max of two to three. They said I behaved and repented so I served six months and after a long night I went home. The family plead not to release me to a blind judicial system but I said nothing though I quietly agreed.  I want to be forgiven for that long drive home but I can't take back putting my hands on the wheel.  Now I have to hit the road.  I made a meeting with a river under a bridge tonight.

Revision time.  I agree that the first one was a little too preachy. 

I had a hard time getting home tonight. The police pulled up to the side of the road with flashing red and blue. They asked me to walk a blurred line, stand on one foot when I had not legs and then touch my nose with eyes closed.  A chaos of instruction was delivered with challenges of immense difficulty.  When I blew I registered a point zero two eight. The cops then towed my car and impounded my soul even though I deserved so much more. It was minivan I hit that night with a five member family I reduced to three. Their cries heard are engraved into platinum upon my memory. I still focus on faces with desperate pleas. After that night I got my bail and a charge of murder in the first degree. My great lawyer plead it down so I only got two to three. In my cell I behaved so well got paroled in six because of an overcrowding jail. The family plead to no avail to a blind judicial system even though I'd put them through hell. I'll always be tormented by the ride that night. So, I say to you don't drink and drive because it's not you who you need worry arriving alive. I'm meeting a river under a bridge tonight even though it won't forgive the lives taken that awful night.

Not to worry I have never killed anyone in a driving accident, knock on wood. I have a lot of disdain for drinking and driving though so I wrote this. No happy ending on this one boys and girls.

Dirty Hands

Hand sanitizer stinging bliss of cleanliness.  Infestation of bacteria fumigated by a refreshing scent. The problem is that my hands are dirty in the proverbial sense.  These hands can never be cleansed.

Sunday, April 12, 2015


Tears hug my cheeks a warm embrace.
Our memories found every place.
Happy moments which I explore.
Nourished my life your at heavens door.
Please don't wait rest your head.
and wait for you children to join you
A family re-united under God's light.

Father, father, father of mine.
I cherish these final moments with you
but let your strength become mine.
Your family stands so you needn't fear.
I am raised in your image this is clear
So don't pull at your baby girls tears, let go
and I will always remember you Papa.

So I went through this just to get rid of the things I was forcing on the first draft.  

Tears hug my cheeks a warm embrace.
Our memories found every place.
Happy moments which I explore.
Cherished in life you at heavens door.
Don't stand waiting rest your head.
and wait to see me after many nights
We will take a walk again in the light.

Father, father, father of mine.
I cherish these final moments with you
but let go, and let your strength be mine.
Your family stands so you need not fear.
I'm raised in your image so depart and
don't pull to your baby girls tears
I'll always have your love in coming years.

This is tough to write.  I definitely need to get back to this and add the justice this poem deserves.

Saturday, April 11, 2015


Speckled pavement stretches out before me. 
A stream of white lines whistle by.
An awaited green sign with white lettering
Only forty-three miles until the next truck stop.
Passing headlamps obscure my vision
and I can't rub them out of my eyes.
The tire and the road growl at me.
A grating reminder I'm still moving.
I never thought I could look forward
so much to a lonely cabin.
A place so nearby and 38 miles away
but I am late so I pass it by.
There's no place or time to rest
on my rolling series of destinations
Just two-hundred eighty-seven more miles
and I will drop off this load.
Where's my coffee?
Ahhh, on down the road I go.

So the criticism I received on this was that it didn't end really well, which I kind of anticipated and that I should revise this to read in compound sentences to make the truck drives gargled thoughts flow better.  I have attempted to address both of these issues and I think I have made improvements..

Speckled pavement stretches out before me.
A stream of white lines whistle by.
An awaited green sign with white lettering
Forty-three miles until the next truck stop.
Passing headlamps obscure my vision.
I can't rub them out of my eyes.
The tire and the road growl at me.
A grating reminder I'm still moving.
I never though I could look forward
so much to a lonely cabin.
A place so nearby and 38 miles away.|
A place to rest before reaching|
a rolling series of destinations|
but I am late so I pass it by.|
Two-hundred eighty-seven miles|
and I will drop off this load.

Thursday, April 9, 2015


Something stirs in all of us
A storm brews in a few of us
An input of information
An output of the mind
Through learning
creation developed
knowledge attained

Wednesday, April 8, 2015


He's got a loud Hawaiian shirt
Dances hard to a Creole vibe
In a Louisiana honkytonk
Living life to live not to die

Going to the fishing pond
Casting out a hook and line
Not concerned about the catch
He's just trying to unwind

Pounding hot steel at work
Everyday he sweats hard
Soon Friday will come around
But that paycheck won't go far

He's found things to cherish
A dog his child and wife
A family that is growing
The common man leading life

The third stanza felt very forced when I wrote it and some readers have commented that they felt is was forced.  This is a good thing for me to work on.  I also made a minor change to the second stanza, second line.  Please let me know if this is improved.

He's got a loud Hawaiian shirt
Dances hard to a Creole vibe
In a Louisiana honkytonk
Living life to live not to die

Going to the fishing pond
Casting out a hook on a line
Not concerned about the catch
He's just trying to unwind

Pounding hot steel at work
A man who sweats hard
Waiting for every Friday
Stretching his paycheck far

He's found thing to cherish
A dog his child and wife
A family that is growing
The common man leading life

Tuesday, April 7, 2015


Fog covers the ground creating a landscape of silhouettes.
A surreal world created to bring focus nearer the mind.
Beauty appears out of the abstract shapes as they are neared.
The detail emerges from the haze of a less confusing world
Light is shed upon the importance of the things nearest me.
Now thought is quieted by an archaic but revealing mist.
I attune to myself separated from the cloudy world, an irony.
For your perspective and wisdom I thank you my friend.

So there are a few very specific thing I am struggling with. I don't know whether I should be using the word "less" or "more" on the fourth line.  Also, I am not sure that the reader gets that I am referring to world without fog on the 7th line.  I am saying that the fog makes things clearer and the added visuals without the fog is what is cloudy.  I do use the duality through the poem.  I am not explaining that well but enough that you get the point.  The question: "Do I need to spell out that 7th line with more clarity?"  Please leave me some comments.

Monday, April 6, 2015

Ink Spear

    Who you can and cannot be.
    Ask Shakespeare if it was he.
    Writer of play an noble verse
    but not a man of that birth
    or was it duke or elite group
    the mind of a peasant can't produce.
    Poor circling thoughts go nowhere
    to rich in title ideas found aware  
    A sacrificial lamb the simple man
    for he is without crown in hand.
    He only the pawn of dangerous plans.
    Fortune gained and fortune lost
    Strength of mind a tarnished cost.

I have read this and definitely want to make some revisions.  It's funny whenever writing associates with writing I seem to have a lack of thoughts.

Sunday, April 5, 2015


Soon we part for a season's breath, as your leaves spiral to the ground. Sunlight flickers through their orange and red hues, dimming and fading as they move in and out of the shade. Branches begin bare their need to slumber as foliage lays a warm blanket for the seedlings sprouting in the distant spring, the promise of new relationships beyond ours. The last invigoration of our life shared departs home as each leaf snaps from its corked stem, you tell me of the cold winter ahead. So I say to you, "Sleep gently my large friend."

So I received back some feedback regarding this poem.  It was pointed out that the first draft didn't connect until the end.  I try to address that issue above.

Leaves spiral to the ground.  Sunlight flickers through their orange and red hues dimming and fading as they move in and out of the shade.  Branches bare their need to slumber as foliage lays a warm blanket for the seedlings sprouting in the distant spring.  The last invigoration of life departs home as each leaf snaps from its corked stem.  The trees way of telling of the cold winter ahead.  So I say to you, "Sleep gently my large friend."

Saturday, April 4, 2015


The string & bow unite in harmonious friction
Dark red breath given from pale inscription.

Wind enters the hollow chambers echoing.
Glimmering brass flows silver vibrations

Sticks strike blows the pounding cries
Tanned hide still alive with screams.

The instrument, the method, the mind.

I think the cool thing about this is that it is easy to add to.  There is enough for meaning and purpose and that doesn't necessarily change or detract if I add to the poem.

Friday, April 3, 2015

Prescribe Life

               Rolling red bottle
                       take me away
       Prescribed relief of pain
                      an empty vessel  
               Temporary remedy
         The doctor's duct tape
                       Every six hours
                  not a minute more
                       The addiction
    led me to this new affliction
                        Now questioning the finality of this rest
                        Side effects
 taking my own life no longer the best
                          in this fight
       my mental vitality put to test
  So I vomit time to clean up this mess.

Alright I got some criticism that the story of awakening my characters desire to want to live was not properly/fully told.  

               Rolling red bottle
                       take me away
       Prescribed relief of pain
                      an empty vessel
               Temporary remedy
         The doctor's duct tape
                       Every six hours

                  not a minute more
                       The addiction

                           New affliction
                         No full nights rest

                          Side effects

  taking my own life the best
                           in this fight
        my mental vitality put to test
  So I vomit time to clean up this mess.
The message in this poem is the thought my character has when hitting bottom, deciding not to give up.

Thursday, April 2, 2015


The killer is remorseful
The predator is resourceful

Wishing breath fading life
Regret resources emotions and need
Blood wrenching, or quenching the thirst
Blunderer on one hand, business on the other
I was the blundering happenstance of fate
Now business becomes the way of my home

Thoughts now faded of the first few
Calculation fallen the rest of you

Wednesday, April 1, 2015

Virtual Bully

The only attention you have is from yourself.
Amused by tormenting words and nothing else.
You hide your name as an alias, going unknown.
Not facing your victims hidden in your home.
You are going online yet staying out of touch.
As the cruelty served isn't felt by you much.
You the typing ticking time bomb of pain.
If not attached to the mainframe you'd refrain.
Now see me looking into the internet's face.
I know of a chair with a coward in its place.

Alright someone asked me to write a poem about online bullying and this is my draft.  I really try to show in this that a bully only has power given.  In my last lines I take that power back.

Tuesday, March 31, 2015


2 + 2 does not equal four.
For me it is some number more.
On this we may disagree
but to life added diversity.
Accepting my answer maybe not
but don't persuade my knowledge or thought.
Let be the religion that mean so much to me
I'll let be your perceptions of equality
In this way we live in harmony
Now let us be who we are
and peace is with us where we are.

Alright this is the first run.  I know this needs some work.  I really want to try to develop this a bit first.

Monday, March 30, 2015


The only way I find myself is lost.
My imagined presence lurks here.
Wanting a place but never embraced.
Time lingers away leaving me alone.

Look harder then deeper to what is known.
Absent thoughts that envision the mirage.
Fading images vanish before my touch.
Something tangible needs to felt by me.

The want is a simple location, a here.
Though I travel and look the spot eludes.
The home is my invented illusion, belonging.
My defiance the house of card I've built.

Loneliness precedes each step taken.
There is nothing ahead of me less behind.
To continue forward placing hope over despair.
I walk, I will always walk.  I look, I will always look.

Sunday, March 29, 2015

Obvious Plaque

Got something to say.
Be heard!

Got somewhere to go.
Get there!

Desire the dream.
Work hard!

Want someone's heart.
Give love!

Raise a beautiful family.
Be support!

Looking to find God.
Have faith!

Get the obvious advice
Retail space!?

There are these inspirational plaques that have been in the retail stores and peoples homes.  Few of them have any meaning.  I got annoyed at them for some reason and wrote this.  I need to figure out how to drive my point home in the last stanza.

Saturday, March 28, 2015


I find the relationship of you and me
owing the world an apology.

The screaming and fighting
the harsh words said
Throwing and tossing
flying plates at the head.
Each of us wishing
the other was dead.

The reason to stay
can't have a why.

So sign this letter
from my lawyer
as I part with bye.

Hopefully I never have to go with this, sure my wife and I fight but at the end of the day I can beat her up, I got her by about 130 pounds.  Just kidding, geeez.  No it's a sad situation but I can say that divorce usually makes the miserable happier.  Try to work it out but if you're punishing each other end it, I was actually relieved to find out my parents would no longer be screaming at each other every night.

Friday, March 27, 2015


Thirsty root stretch into the ground.  Dig deeply to find the water supply.  The abundance of leave hanging overhead waiting for you to be fed.  The dependence of life hanging on your search.  Burrow further, burrow further than ever before.  Now more than every we depend on you more and more.  Go into the dark depths of the ground to explore like a the fearless force of nature continue to sprout every brand every leave.  Without the roots the tree ceases to be only how but absence of thee.

Thursday, March 26, 2015

John Doe

The trash the smell it's dinner tonight.
Looks and stares while I scavenge for fare.
Rather than go hungry risk getting sick.
Haven't eaten for day so the meals worth it.
Look for a place to sleep isn't hard to find.
A good park bench and a two dollar bottle of wine.
An overpass should it rain finding the soothing sounds of a train
Rest during the day with no where to go.
Fearing the night and everyone I don't know
Some people help other look at their own shame.
Eventually to drift from this world just an unknown name.

I like the line with the train but I am not sure it fits.  I will have to get back to this one.

Wednesday, March 25, 2015


The blue screen swallows them connected without connection.
A look without insight the virtual prose of words not felt.
The e-world looking glass surrounded by the universe about.
Head dropped forward eyes empty glare meet a life going nowhere.
Lacking breeze, no air suffocating electricity the virtual bare.
A prompt to like reactions of described food without taste.
Pictures of wished experiences that will never take place.
Break free from the broadcast of tablet induced smartphones.
The world is here waiting for you to join in on the race.

Alright got this down.  Pretty clear message here.  I have to fine tune the meter and rhyme still.

Tuesday, March 24, 2015

Waking to Love

Sleeping by you
softly shut eye
Dreaming of
love with you
night passed by

Light creeps upon us
Gentle touch of lips
felt on chest
The morning rises
grateful for every kiss.

Rising from bed
stretching arms
extending to you
then snoozing alarm
for you to continue

Fingertips glide
slowly away
Parting from you
the most strength
used all day.

Alright the second revision takes a lot of thought but as you can see I've read through my first draft then changed the wording I didn't like.  Then I added some consistency to the meaning of the poem.

Thoughts of you
bring tears to eye
Love for you
happiness inside
Gentle touch of lips
to my chest
In morning wake
grateful each time
kiss is placed.
Rise from bed
stretching arms
extending to you
then snooze alarm
Fingertips glide
slowly away
Parting from you
the most strength
used all day.

I think that the first four lines of the poem are weak.  I want to revise them.  I think they are cliche.  These are the types of words I used to get going because it's easy and then I see where my mind takes me.

Monday, March 23, 2015


Wander in and out
Wander all about
Searching without clue
Reason evades
through and through
Falling into minds trap
gathering memories scrap
Many good times
that never knew
Loved ones poisoned
by thoughts askew
Personality tarnished
Scar marked pain
Live in this world
done in vein.

Struggle forward
proceed with life
Always fighting
might and strife
Healing rains
come one day
Yet first the will
to make the way.

Alright this was from something I had not completed from long ago so I just had a depressing little scribble in front of me.  I revised this because it seemed suicidal to be honest and I strongly believe in fighting for happiness and life.  I know first hand that suicide is one of the world's greatest tragedies as I lost my best friend to mental illness.  If you need help call 1 (800) 273-8255 National Suicide Prevention Lifeline.  Make a call make a difference.

The title "Remedy" is in reference to having the power of mind to see tough times through.  This will obviously need further revisions.  Please follow back to see this poems transformation.

Sunday, March 22, 2015

Skater's Sonata

The cut of the ice,
the turn
the spin
the lift
the whirl
the clink of the blades
cutting into solid water below
melting into a symphony
of speed and dance.

Muscles strain
to control the chords
the mind focused
directing the winds
the dance commences
harmony to percussion.

The intensity
the pain
the tear of the skate
the rink it wounds
the hours gone by
a promise of perfection
if nerves standby
the card
the ten
from every judge
a win.

I plan to let this one evolve.  It needs some editing and refinement.  I would like a little more intensity throughout the poem.  The way this currently stands I have left some things that serve as reminders for a later edit.  As an example "The card, the ten.....", I may want to include the competition originally this was about practicing.  I think I want to go the route of practicing and maybe leave something short showing that it pays off like I have done so far but I have left my opportunity to take that out or change the meaning later.

Saturday, March 21, 2015


Happy Dog
Happy Cat
Play together pulling at a hat
Dog is strong, she'd always win
Between the two, the wins even

Happy Dog
Happy Cat
Race together running a tract
Cat real fast, he'd always win
Between the two, the wins even

In this way they stay good friends
Strength in heart always wins

I think a lot of people may criticize something like this as childish.  I'd say if that mean something a child can understand that is great.  It delivers a message in it's simplicity.  Also, read the poems just because you can think at a high level doesn't mean you always should.  If you do there are many times where you'll miss out on important things.

Thursday, March 19, 2015

The Rake

The tragedies I've wrote.
The hearts I've broke.
The wistful pen dipped into women.

The caring I've derived.
The song I've applied.
The wrong note on her harpsichord.

Find the meaning behind these words
Truly feeling is for the birds.
I say something while meaning nothing.

Deliver the prose the satire in these words.
The irony of thoughts that are only yours.
Use my quotes always making things worse.

I've never been good looking enough or had the evil nature to be this guy.  I was inspired to write this after overhearing two guys talk about negging  (Say something bad about a person so they seek approval).  It just seemed shallow.

Wednesday, March 18, 2015


Whispers echo through the room
murmurs rumble towards me.
Flashing glances gazing stares
piercing eyes rolling in from everywhere.
Rumor growing overflowing lies
rattle despite my battling mind.
The mob is pitching at my twitching
pitch forks prodding torches a flare.
The persecution and execution
to a deed I would not dare.
I've been pined for the sin
never given the chance at innocence.
With my end society should amend
yet they act knowing not why.
The innocent condemned to die.

Tuesday, March 17, 2015

A Mother

She woke to him crying so she put him to breast.  Changed him then rocked him on her shoulder his little head rest.  She pat his back then a little croak, wiped his face with a gentle stroke.  Laying him down soothed back to sleep a few hours later they both meet.  Night after night receiving no rest but looking upon him she thought how beautifully she'd been blessed.

Monday, March 16, 2015


Once soiled heart
Hard to clean
Luster of the cheek
Soiled broken tears
Blood pumping veins
Freeze the soul
Thoughts time past
Spirit disheveled mass
Alone seas vast
Tangled by regret
Mangled meaning get
Weeping hand swept

Sunday, March 15, 2015

Silent Rider

His heart bleeds the poison of mournful regrets.  In his path taken souls follow haunting each step down the road of life.  He, the silent rider, speaking with whispers and shouting with six shooting guns.  He whips them from his holsters leaving them as empty as his heart.  Now the sun rises and falls on condemned men set to die each count breaking the hearts to the music of women's cry.  Just before dawn the winds shudder before his breath, escaping the path of his ghostly inhale lives blown into smoke as he exhales.  He his own crematorium. As he rides away the moon howls at the darkness as though he's a wilted rose stripped of it's beauty  leaving thorns to barefoot.  All that remains is the sad look of death wrapped up in a lingering smile.  His hollow boots plod forward forever walking the earth looking for those deserving of the grave.  To all those who have known his treachery, as a dog lives as a dog dies.

Does this need a more poetic language.  It's a poem that tells a story, I will look to revise this but for now I am confused.

The Noodle Doodle

Ramen ramen college days
barely eating wishing for good grades
Classroom lectures teachers grumble
out on the quad students tumble
Drinking wildly before a test
prevented from doing the very best.
During holidays returning home
coming back to buddies staying in the dorm
Faded away the found found days
remembering the times of my alma mater

Yes I ate a bowl of ramen noodles and thought back on college then sat down and wrote this piece.  It is so basic I am not sure it needs to be revised.

I didn't have the typical college experience described even though I at my fair share of ramen.  I worked two or three jobs, slept two hours a night and went to a commuter college but I still had fun.  The reason I wrote in the fashion I did is to relate to more people.  Our college experiences our all different but the fortunate among us look back on them fondly.

An Angel's Pollen

She is the flower of time carrying forward the lives of happy souls.  Her radiant light falling upon the hearts of friends as though the north star has fallen to the earth.  Life around her blossoming from the care and tenderness she emits from the heart.  Pedals tread behind her footsteps leaving a path of sweet scent, blown as if her souls breath.  While the light of the moon fades to morning sunshine her love shines brighter day by day.  With a subtle smile she heals the pain found under storm's rain.  Vibrant is the embrace of her hand, the warm touch, palm in palm she guides the needy to the light of kindness.

Human angel of this earth your heart embodied by mortal shell yet it still touches upon the heavens.  May your spirit live forever in the continued conquest of healing the lost in despair.....  Amen.

I need to revise this to be more poetic in nature.  I have noticed that many of things I write start off like this.  The form of my thoughts are not completely grammatically precise but close enough.  Sometime I bounce from one word to the next in poetic form but not often.  The thing I struggle most deeply with is that it is heard to revise things into more poetic nature without either losing the meaning or the meaning becoming too abstract.

The last word is Amen.   I would like to hear some opinions on this.

Thursday, March 12, 2015


There once was an apricot named Al.  Al had many pals.  There was oatmeal, cereal and a long host of breakfast friends.  It was after the morning meal that Al started to feel withdrawn and asked "What's the deal?"  As the day drifted away Al had another thing to say, "What if the morning didn't end the fun I have in a day?"  So, Al the apricot worked on his cooking skill and learned to include himslef in compotes and sauces for lunch and dinner and ever since everyday feels fulfilled.

Big City

There was a big apple and a little apple sitting next to each other.  The big apple turned to the little apple and said I am big and green.  The little apple responded I am petite and sweet and you may be gig but you sure are tart.  The green apple turned and said that's okay because people like me that way.  The red apple replied together we provide variety a little something for everybody.

Kahlua the Pineapple

There was once a pineapple named Kahlua who moved to the states from Hawaii.  When Kahlua came to the states non of the other fruits were as prickly or had sharp leaves.  This made the other fruits cautious around Kahlua and made it hard for him to make friends.  Kahlua did not let this get him down, he knew he was a sweet fruit on the inside.  Kahlua stayed true to himself and was always nice to the fruits often going out of his way to meet with them.  Eventually Kahlua became very good friends with a cherry and kiwi.  Now this crew hangs out together all the time often and has become a popular garnish for a refreshing Mai Tai.

Alright there probably won't be any revision on this and I know it's childish.  I simply think it is a fun little story and show writing or poetry is a release in many ways.  Also I know this is a short story and not a poem.

Tuesday, March 10, 2015


We turn hate inward for fear of what it will do to the world.
Not to consume us, but so that we may love outwardly.
Letting it in us until is has nothing left to consume.
Our soul fighting against the hate's parasitic wrath.
Doing battle against the internal struggle of which no one knows.
This is how we are heroes in that we fight the hopeless war.
Every moment we plod forward losing ground.
A half step taken a full step taken back but again taking a half step.
In not surrendering victory is found continue forward until put to ground.

Decide to get this written before going to bed.  I will look at revising this soon.

She Remains Young

They eyes of a child reflect innocence into eternity.  The reminiscent expression on her face blooms from genuine love.  The delicate touch of her hand unveils the warmth of her heart.  The watchful stare of her caring gaze reminiscent as the day fades away.  She is aloft with love and care tending to others with the warm glow her hazel eyes.  Translucently lighting the path to her heart her soul residing in the pupil of her iris swept in to each tear her mother cried.  On this path we find her character, surviving, perseverance, strength and the true character of inner beauty.  Here we met by a barrage of serenity, calming love, tranquil caring, inner peace and the harmony that is her soul.  This is the child through life remained young, passed to heaven like the rising sun.

Monday, March 9, 2015


Justice does not travel the road.
It enters the woods winding it's own path.
Breaking down brush in search of the wanted.
The hoof beat pounds into open terrain.
A reminder to the guilty there's no where to run.
It's eye lurking coming every bend of the road
A remind there's no where to hide.
The guilt is in you and that to is where justice resides.
Always following, always finding, always present.

Sunday, March 8, 2015


Who you are is your perspective.
What you see as you is real.
When you think therefore you are.
Where you doubt you, you will fail.
Why you will be you as a victim.

How you define you is the way you're perceived.

Thursday, March 5, 2015

Daughter & Mother

In her hazel green eyes her mother's heart resides.
To her heart she has dedicated to her mother's life
and her mother has dedicated her heart unto her.
They are intertwined in life their souls latched
together in an unbreakable bound.
They are as two souls with one combined spirit
in their existence there is no greater binding love.
Heart to heart they touch each other.
Each moment lived for the other.
IN this world this kind of bond is unique
and it is for this mother and daughter to keep.

Wednesday, March 4, 2015


The warrior does not wonder if a dull blade tears the skin before he cuts.  His preparation is to be sharp.  He embraces the touch of the weapons handle taking honor in the protection and impediment of life reflecting himself and his enemy.  The combatant falls by its side holding to glory followed down by a swift trickling stroke.  From silver to red a tear towards the light, drifting to a twinkle reflection piercing from its edge that of fallen that of life.  The knowledge of the blade's sorrow of is his only betrayal as man laid to dust a remarkable foe.  The sword's life being coexistent with his, held in tandem the soul willing to take, the soul willing to give.

Tuesday, March 3, 2015


The wobbling tuning turning into refined notes.
Voices struggling until the release of strong sound.
Individuals pulling together in conducted song.
The chaos of sound pulled together in symphony.
Drained into musical emotion to hear the artists soul.

Monday, March 2, 2015

For Your Forgiveness

There once walked a man who only held faith in hand.  He walked through stick and stone and they broke through his bones.  He did not raise his fist in hate with a shroud of peace he'd retaliate.  In the face of a man with an outstretched whip he held outstretched arms only to love would he submit.  Conquering strength with caring he falls on opposition with a warming heart pulling us together not tearing us apart.  His tenderness brings the purity of the dove to the very soul of crow's tyranny the flight of his endeavor to save humanity. He sought to alleviate the pain of all as martyr he'd fall.  Pierced by nails, resurrected veils let this man carry you to forgiveness find by forgiving you are forgiven.

Sunday, March 1, 2015

Life Circling

Beautiful birth treacherous death.
Infinite latitude on every breath.
Sights unparalleled to the eye.
Sniffing flowers plucked to die .
Tasting meat after an animals cry.
Tonguing truth with every lie.
Beauty intertwining with the pain.
Living and dying one and the same.

Err Thinking

The tip of the pen is wasting away while the thoughts in my head drift away.  I cannot latch onto them as I give chase they drift further and faster as I increase the pace.  So what I try is to sit patiently bye waiting for an idea to pass nearby.  I try to look out still reflecting in but then find nothing again and again.  There is a block on my brain like the part that though suffered rot.  I sit behind these wall blankly searching for anything at all.  I'm not going to give up I'll try another day it's time to go to bed anyway.

Human Essence

My plateau extends into the skies growing higher and higher as my goals rise.  There is no peak or place I must stop as long as I try I will stay on top.  On the clouds I lay my head to rest after each obstacle I best in order to wake up and start the struggle again feeding on each setback fueled to win.  I am my own giant I follow no path toppling mountains before me only behind me I leave a path.  I heed humanities call to pass on the torch of knowledge and wisdom to further inspire innovation in the trail blazers of tomorrow's time.  Through them we are made immortal.

Modern Conflict

War necessary now than ever before.
Media portrayal left to deplore.
Lack of leadership the true gore.
War's not evil fight to uplift more.

Freedom dying by the curbside
Liberty ringing now subsides.
Terror lurks until citizens die.
No country to whom they ally.

Fight for the society that is good
Attack where your principles stood
Eradicate the hate when you could.
Don't express regret saying would.

To the noble warrior I revere.
To protect the ideas I adhere.
To family for my heart sears
To community for I stand here.

I wrote this because it is popular to stand against war.  This was inspired by the question "Does war have a place in modern society?" and my attempt to answer that questions for myself.


Little clam has tucked away a pearl of wisdom but of it she has nothing to say.  Her little shell has puckered tight even though I try to coax it open with all my might.  Under this hardened shell dwells her pearl shaped heart but of its beauty I am kept from sight.  She's so protected because once crept in a grain of sand that agitated her but of it's existence she will not admit.  Of the pain it caused she denies never to submit.  Please tell me young clam how this single grain has created this misfortune. The covering of such great beauty you now hold within you must not blame because of part of the splendor was contributed by the pain of the sandy grain.  Tell me now with the soothing sound of the  shore allow it to wash away the hurt of this terrible grain. Loosen your shell don't protect yourself into further loss.  I will simply listen to everything you mention I promise to pay the utmost attention.  Then when we're threw you'll feel like life's been renewed.  Let me bare the sadness for once your pearl shines I know that you'll never be mine.  Go off into the world glow brighter than ever before free from the damage caused before.

I have spent too much time on this.  I will have to return to it later.  My main problem is that the tone taken seems rushed so it doesn't tie from one part to the next as well as it should.  Let me know where you think the breaks are so I can thing about how to patch things together.  (Mainly the end).

Saturday, February 28, 2015


Love is a fatal concept harsh on thought.  We think to find it here or there yet fall short of it conquest.  It seems as though others are finding love, every place. but in truth it's true capture is rare.  Many so willing to accept so little they expand love's meaning enclosing it in blind spaces.   Elusive to the heart some hold it briefly in a dream but reality wakes them to a broken heart.  Losing trust and faith in the face before meeting new barriers they find themselves surpassed by a new chance.  The pitfalls have darkened their hope and out of hope they can not see the light they seek.  The few that make it through  unveil their hearts offering it exposed but it only gets stolen in the desperation of their search.  Then that rarity one who opens their eyes inward seeing into themselves to reflect outward which first was found within.

Friday, February 27, 2015

Poetic Mind

Spilling thoughts come out of my head.  On this page is where they bled.  Invading ideas that are cracked by the pen the lines tumble about and then get thin.  Pictured words combing across the page then I see them written on a second gaze.  Screaming vindication emotions flow everything from happiness to my hearts sorrow.  Leaping from line to line ink tears through pages as I rhyme.

This needs a few revisions that I'll see better later but it was really fun to write.


Fortunate beginning unfortunate woes.  A relationship that ebbed but never flowed.  Circling troubles are all we found.  Promising moments led to wasted time.  The hurt and the sorrow of love lost.  The crime in the memories of a past gone bad.  Your love I could never claim to have had.

Wrote this last night.  Go interrupted by thought of another scribble.  This is one I plan to refine and add to potentially. 


Beautiful promise fade on thy lips.
Live happily together forever in bliss.
Foolish believer thou made of thee.
From these lies my fond misery.

Okay part of me thinks I heard or read this somewhere.  Googled it didn't find anything.  Give me a heads up so I can at least site the poem.  Anyway for now I wrote it and thought it should be longer but it gets the point across in those four lines so I decided is right the way it is.

Thursday, February 26, 2015

Pantomime Relationship

Kiss on the cheek.
Hug goodbye.
These things done.
Feelings passed aside.

Calling home,
Checking in.
These things done.
Actual caring impaired.

Coming home.
Going to bed.
These things done.
Emotion run dry.

Yelling loudly.
Throwing plates.
These things done.
The relationship tried.

I don't plan on editing this, I've read it and I like it as is.  I do want to comment that I am in a happy relationship.  I was reading a poem by Sule Cerdan and received some inspiration.


The art of profane profanity, gossip.  I tell you profanity.  Have you heard.  Well isn't that scandalous.  I wouldn't have believed it unless I saw it myself.  Honest to God.  My goodness gracious.  Did you hear about the neighbors across the way.  The husband's having an affair.  The daughter's pregnant.  The son's dropped out of college and moved back in.  Their new born baby didn't turn out even,has nine toes.  Then you got the wife who's drinking.  How low. At her age.  He'll never amount to anything.  What a shame poor thing.  I almost pity her  The rumors, the tales, the webs that are spun.  Words that accomplish nothing but end up in hurt.  To struggle to know what's not to be known.  To make things up from minds lies are grown.  Useless words that never end.

Sunday, February 22, 2015

My World

Purple ocean,
Blue sky.
Orange sun.
Black night.
Brown earth.
Yellow day.
Gray people.

Love by Sun Tan

Follow me down to the purple sea.  As we march down to the shore we'll pick up stones tossing them to the warm waters.  We'll lift our feet high into the air smashing our footprints into the sand.  We leave them behind to die in the tide as a faded trail fades from our stroll down the shoreline.  Then find a place to sit and chat shading our eyes from the sun looking into each other with the realization we found someone.  Let's dash into the water running from our blankets as the journey scorches our feet into the cooling waters our soles find relief.  Into the sea we swim diving under the water into the blue entangled in each other.  We rise to the surface to breath in a kiss and sigh the relief of love we've found in each others eyes.  Now we leave the waters hand in hand to fade into each others bodies as the sun and moon exchange in the skies.  Though the night grows weary we do not our places with each other this is the beginning of many nights together the will not be forgot.

I know it is sappy.  No need to revise this.

Saturday, February 21, 2015


The salt of a tear doesn't always sting.  The hand of god isn't always mean.  Every once in awhile it is better to bare the pain.  Wade through the troubles and bad times, face them head on to dwindle away at rigid times.  Postpone the pain and having learned nothing find nothing to gain.  A solution won't be found with time lost with more time past just furthered cost.  The waste of each moments render happiness as it is pealed away leaves piles of sorrow where sweet memories die and fade.  Let the tears wash over the stinging soul to cleanse the pain.  Let their salt sanitize the mind and soul.  Let God's hand fall upon your path bringing blessing and strength to the time where feeling overwhelm the intent to overcome a hard path.  Carry the burden endure the pain find the other side and get ready to face challenges again.

I need to edit this but I am a bit tired.  I'll revise this in a bit.  Don't be shy about pointing something out in the comments.  I will make the corrections.

Thursday, February 19, 2015

Stupid Cows

Hey look, over there.  Do you see it?.... The grass.....over there on the other hillside....the grass on that hillside is greener.  Now that right there is some delicious looking grass.  It looks clean, lush and long.  Now I am all about greener pastures let's go over there.....Whoa what happened this isn't all that great.  This grass is not nearly as green as it was where we were.  I would say this wasn't the same we had seen from the other hillside but I never lost sight of the pasture.  Well it must have been the distance.

Wednesday, February 18, 2015

Self Discovery

Once your in you cannot get out.  That is what looking inward is all about.  Come on in you'll want to stay into eternity keeping on'es self passed the grave.  Follow the signs in the mind and the intuitions that run down the spine.  This is the guide to how you should live.  On the heart's beat take in a step into your life.  Fortune shines from you soul leading to new beginnings from where a new journey will start.

Alright I gotta admit I pretty much hate this because it seems preachy to me.  I didn't put this out because I think it's good.  I wrote it and I think it's important to share.  Part of the reason is that someone else may like it but more importantly it demonstrates that not everything you write will feel inspired.  Sometimes things feel forced and just because something is forced doesn't mean it won't be good.  That just happens to be the case this time around.

Hey if you liked this let me know.  I am feeling a little defeated after this.  That's right I am seeking encouragement and I don't care that it's needy.

Fate and Drive

The after thought of a moment won't negate an occurrence.  Reflection on a choice made an action taken has no influence on the permanence the hand creates.  Conceptions spawned by preconception further the state of mind that commits the crime and sealing the fate of victim and perpetrator.  Fate can be broken with positive notions in mind.  Influence change with work over time to reflect on the past and search for signs.  Rhyme and reason go hand in hand action and reaction improve upon the motion of plans.  To never do requires the strength to know what to never want but rather how to earn.

Still need to work on this a bit.  This is my first round.  The idea comes from biblical teaching regarding the idea that we our born sinners and are fated toward evil but we have free will.  God knows one are the other and can determine with certainty how we will end up by how utilize our minds and we develop ourselves to distinguish/protect ourselves from an evil chose.  

Saturday, February 7, 2015


There is a liquid that becomes your friend before you find out that it's your enemy.  It doesn't lie.  The relationship starts out rocky but the fun outweighs the pain.  Small misadventures and thrilling nights give way to a fading romance as time draws on.  Parties of people turn into a party of one and cheers fade to clinks.