Sunday, August 23, 2015


My happy place is rocks, seashells, and crystals
that have long since forgotten their story
but were kept because I found them

My happy place adorns my window sill
or travels in a box adorned with flowers
I build temples around their decorum

And the easy way I use my words
makes Buddha laugh and Sheba cry
My only point of reference is you

You, coming in and out of view
Rocks, seashells, and crystals skew
the matter that is my window sill

I guess I still want to be with you

Sunday, August 16, 2015

Engaging Poems

The first thing that comes to mind is poetry
I write that down
It is an exercise
It is an excuse
The ink catches at the edges of the letters
as I remember what you once told me
You wished my penmanship was a font
This is when I began telling you
that I love you
And every time you leave the room
you say
Me too

(stanza break)

I fell in love with this poem in an instant
before I knew
it even existed
It was always here
waiting for me to catch it at its quick edges
And I remember the time I told it
I am going to write tonight: thank you
Me, the muse, and my writing table
have moved in here
Forgetting we had ever been misplaced
My page
Our home

Meeting Minds

You really must chat up the people
if you want to find out who has something to say
In the minds where great thoughts are kept
there is little room for small talk
and conversations are null
if you are not hearing more than you say
I remind myself
as I slip into a room and smile hello
Tonight the room is empty
Except for that fly on the wall
I could kill it in a single swat
But it doesn't pester me
Instead I am thinking about
how the poets believe
that their thoughtful gestures
are extinguishing reckless living

Wednesday, August 12, 2015

Pass by Planets

I could probably
put this puzzle
if you'd let me get to know
the pieces

Said the professor of
wait right here
I'll be right back

to the probe
that hoped for
any sign of life