It’s hard to explain
The lights, the colors and sounds,
A throng of Happy cascading down the street.
That feeling, warm and bright,
Buried deep within my chest,
Glowing on my skin,
And bursting through my mouth in song.
It’s beautiful, that moment,
When everyone you meet has a smile on their face,
And a warm hug in their pocket.
Waiting with open arms to say
“Come here, sweet angel,
Let us dance together,
Celebrate this time together,
A community of pride”
Not every year is a happy one,
We’ve lost some family along the way.
A brother Faded away into dust,
Ashes strewn underneath a cherry tree.
A sister left lying on a blood soaked dance floor, ...
Kindness now familiar.
You’re in my mind again,
A laugh beamed through time,
To echo electric sparks in consciousness
And warm the body in waves of sound.
Your kindness flickers in series of patterns
Strewn across my memory,
Planted happiness in my chest
Just a few years ago.
It has grown, my dear, to embrace us both.
Blurring together in constellations on fire,
Wrapping us in tight,
Gleefully bound, I tangle with you.
My hands could memorize your shape
For hours beyond the infinite,
As long as you’re there,
So I might feel your heat against my chest.
Let’s fade like this, into the music,
Surrounding us in vibrations.
My unexpected love, I feel it still, ...
Lights hit icy pavement,
Lines flickering into the periphery,
As day turns to night,
And the sun fades into the fields ahead.
A sunset wiped clean gives way to navy blue,
Leaving specks of white light to twinkle in the darkness.
A quiet carpet of prairie spreads,
The curve of the earth seems within reach
But fingertips only brush frosted air slipping past the window.
Heartbeats unconfined, echo
Through the unobstructed landscape,
Past the kiss of moonlit grasses and the darkening sky,
To places unknown.
But they are together.
Intertwined in complementary rhythms,
Keeping time with the crackling radio.
Knowledge is Power
You’ve always been scared of her,
A woman with knowledge,
Since she plucked it from that fateful tree.
Why risk blissful ignorance, as a hostage,
To understand your reality.
So I ask you, sir,
Are you afraid?
Does her power intimidate you?
Your last oppressive note has played,
Your time is up, your payment due,
For you owe so much to her.
you asked if I was going home.
I gave you an answer most unsatisfying:
I don’t know.
I don’t have a house I know as home.
Or one city to which identify,
I have moved too often for such roots to firmly plant.
My home is far too expansive to be held in one place.
It is a muddy beach
Scattered at random to hold a shoreline Slowly eroding beneath salty waves.
It is the bright green fields
Nestled under mountains,
Where we hope the water will always run cold.
It is on the rocky islands,
Where animals show no fear,
In forests of lichen,
And the damp.
It is the rugged and worn peninsula,
Only found i...
A Summer Drive.
Do you ever think back
to the warm summer drive?
When the sea sparkled
in dazzling sunsets?
Your hand never left my knee,
the smile never left you face,
Santana blared on the radio,
and I ignored the glowing in my chest.
Sweetheart, do you ever recall,
the sun soaked sandy beach?
We tumbled together in salty waves.
I memorized your laugh that day.
Do you remember
a starlit sky?
Gazing from the hood of the car,
we drank two bottles of wine that night.
Talking all night,
not saying the words
aching to float from our lips,
So we spoke of everything else.
Every time I see you,
I relive those feelings,
what I knew then,
the words I couldn’t say.
I breathe in your ear,
as I down my wine,
Pull me closer to your hips.
I giggle at the store,
as I grab your ass,
spin me around,
Pull me closer to your lips.
I whisper every night,
as you kiss my neck,
slide your hands,
pin my arms,
Pull me closer to your body.
“You are beautiful.”
I say it every morning,
as you yawn,
Pull me closer to your chest.
“I love you.”
you say with a smile,
as I snuggle close,
touch my cheek,
Pull me closer to your chest.
You’ve Taken Everything.
kneeling in the street,
begging for my life,
rung 1,000 times
but to you,
just another quiet night.
What more can I give, that you have not taken?
all are unwillingly yours.
I have nothing left.
Let me be
look at me.
What’s that near your eye?
Has your sleep lain to rest
in the growing shadows ‘neath your lashes?
His kisses shouldn’t bruise,
his love shouldn’t hurt.
I see you,
to accommodate this monster.
His faults are not your own
and you have to let go.
Free fall into happy,
the landing is soft
and in the end you’ll be free.
Free from pain,
screaming through beaten limbs.
From streaks of yesterday’s mascara
and forgotten scrapes.
His weaknesses are not your burden,
they are your disease.
He has infected you,
I Never Wanted Any of It
I never wanted to speak
to the fire in a tiny room,
where a charcoal staircase
led to a blackened void.
As words dripped,
through the coffee filter,
they sizzled to vapor
on her hearth.
I never wanted to cry
into the moon light,
where she pushed the sand
to cover the tide.
Ocean spray dripped,
the words had stopped.
Filter something too much,
and it becomes a dam.
I never wanted to go
to the silence in a house,
where her floorboards creaked,
and the wind howled outside.
No words or ocean
dripped three times,
filtered, dammed, evaporated,
Honestly, I don't care,
I never wanted any...
An Ode to Her
May Her voice forever speak
Endless, spill words honey sweet between
Rose Petals, a dessert luxurious
Intellectual, sparks make fireworks
Turn, the air vibrant with color.
May Her graceful body always move
Elegant, hips swaying to a beat
Relishing, gleeful in the musical
Influence, hands reach for me
Touch, a worn paperback soft.
May Her eyes continue to smile
Expressive, sky blues alight
Rife with joy, laughter, yet
Infinite, Iridescent irises
Twinkle, holding a universe.
May Her wonderful person
Eternally, live in a paradise
Running, through ripened orchards
In silvery strands of moonlight, tap my shoulder an...
To the other Kendra
I gave my life
So you might have a name.
Warm smile gone
A memory to give you breath.
Fill your lungs,
It takes three days
To taste the air.
Your mother’s aspirations,
Of a career forgotten.
Fill your heart,
My bundle of Joy,
It takes 9 months
To hold her hand.
Your grandmother’s wish,
You will have the future
She was never granted.
Fill your mind,
My darling girl,
It takes twenty-seven years
To be the first.
Your partner’s love,
Wrapped in warmth,
Soft hands to heal
Life’s hateful scars.
Fill your soul,
It takes 19 years
To find the key.
She looked comfortable, in her body, in her shirt.
Spawn till you die.
Let not the weariness of life way your tits to the ground.
She looked older,
Somewhere between 50 and 70, I couldn’t place her age.
She smelled faintly of high quality indica and expensive vanilla.
Her bag was full of art, yarn, creations.
Her glasses concealed glinting intelligent eyes,
Her smile was contagious.
Daughter of a surfer father
And a demon mother of the worst kind.
She was a broken sculpture that had been soldered back together,
Each repairing line adding a new and different kind of beauty.
“Morton, I lived there,
Peel back my layers
Watch as flesh,
Fall dripping to the floor.
Carved smile from the dagger
underneath my bed
We wade into the shadowlands
Panic sets in.
But can you hear the sobs?
Torrents down my face
The mask is falling
And I must go.
You have found the mark
Just one for now
At the base of my neck
Or maybe the one on my arm
Next to the one on my shoulder
I edit my biography
My words flow through filters
I was once annoying to someone
A New Height of Elation
Tangled with you,
Celestial bodies melting
Blurring together in stars
Constellations on fire
Passion leaving lips
Sends shivers down your spine.
An exhalation of warmth
Wrap in tight
Gleefully bound I,
Tangle with you.
A Kind Stranger
We had met once before
Talking for hours about something
I can’t remember.
I remember his smile though
And the way his voice
Quiet pulled away strings of timid
To unveil a terrifying honesty
I thought I’d lost.
He made words tumble
Falling from my lips
To giggle and dance between us.
He was wrapped in kindness
He asked for my space.
A question, never a demand.
Lips introduced themselves
And bodies slid towards each other
Fitting a new, yet familiar pattern
Never tearing, even for a moment,
Bound in passion.
Music, Laughter, Curiosity
Acted as dinner entertainment
And words, intertwined, danced.
A seed planted ...
A Jubilant Mess
Usually when something spills,
Not droplets, but floods,
There is frenzy, to clean up the mess.
However, some messes are worth keeping,
Some spills should flood,
And some frenzies should be enjoyed.
The ultimate community?
That, dear friends, is Jazz.
Not just Jazz, live, unbridled Jazz.
It spills through doorways
Flying down streets
Beckoning anyone who hears
To follow it to the source.
Strides match the beat,
And as the crowd begins to gather,
Their raucous voices harmonize with the chaos of the notes
The warm evening seeps through the open door
Filling the shadowed lounge
Hoping, too, for a glimpse
Of the mysterious melody
Houses slide past,
Beads on strings of streets.
Some beads are falling, sides pealing,
Grass excepting the leaves of paint.
Colors of blue, yellow, red yell loud,
Cultured are the roots.
But just next door, to fill the space,
A beige set piece
A supposed home
Where once a bright bead lay.
In the window
Black Lives Matter
Is hanging by the street.
Black Lives Matter signs
Replace black lives,
Financial ruin scattered in empty streets
Next to empty apartments
Echoes of laughter and music
Faded long ago.
Relics of the neighborhood:
A grocery store
A book store
A community center
Lay in ruins
It’s flesh a founda...
Why I Write
Words come flowing, pulsing, throwing themselves from the tip of my pen,
My childhood characters coming to life on my page.
I can travel through time, make new lands, design utopia
Or relive past experiences in a rhyming scheme.
Articulating emotion in the verbal form
Is uncomfortable, difficult, and completely nerve wracking,
My muscles tense, and I tighten my jaw,
To stop the quantity of the universe pouring from my lips.
There is clarity and sanctuary in written expression.
The world is your own, you control who can see
Your deepest thoughts and ideas about your own perceptions.
These words produce images, an artistic piece,
Drawings inspired by my poem or story.
“Image of t...
Dear Mr. Trump,
I am a young voter who believes in being politically active. Because I am a firm supporter of the First Amendment, I wanted share my thoughts, and hopes I have for you, while you prepare for inauguration day. As I am a writer, I decided to share these sentiments with you in poem form.
WE THE PEOPLE
WE ARE HERE
As I sit here listening to our president give his farewell speech,
My heart begins to break.
We have come so far,
striving for freedom and equality for ALL.
Social outcasts were excepted,
After years of being ostracized.
A financial downfall was righted,
And Feminism saw a new ally
In the leader of the free world.
Even healthcare became (semi)...
I should have known
We sat on the riverbank,
A group of us reveling under the spell of vodka
Mixed with the juices of evening spring air.
You and I had been talking,
You curious about my lifestyle
And my odd opinions.
Words a sticky bait
To make me stay for one more drink.
I should have known
When you moved closer...
American girl, alluring, interesting,
Losing inhabitions one sip at a time,
I was a perfect for your late night entertainment.
I should have seen the signs,
I should have known,
When you called my kind "sluts"...
You spoke of women's rightful place,
Laughing as you said:
"Foreign girls are only good for one thing."
Why did I think
I, a silly girl,
The mountains stand alone,
Swathed in mist,
Blanketed in snow.
Pillars immortal, steadfast,
Windswept forests stilled,
The howling of wolves muted,
By the gentle touch of Winter.
Clouds heavy with her bounty
Swirl above the peaks,
Waiting for the nightfall to let loose their feathers
Over the silent landscape.
The air is clean and fresh
Washed with the smell of her iced pine scent.
You gleefully breathe in,
Cold stinging your throat and lungs,
As Infinite Happiness pulls you close
And marvels with at Winter's Gift.
What Matters to Me?
The happiness of others has always been of great importance to me, whether that be people who feel unjustly persecuted, animals who are unnecessarily harmed, or the dying earth. I have an intense sense of empathy, often taking on the feelings of those around me to a point where it is almost painful. This started at a young age, when I would save worms from the woes of the open road, or yell at fellow kindergartners for being mean to each other. I would even carefully walk around new sprouts while hiking, so they would have a chance to grow.
All living things have a right to happiness and respect, and when these basic needs are denied, it destroys our habitat. Much l...
The San Juan Islands
It's not just a place
It's a feeling
It's a mood
It is paradise
It is an adventure that awaits you
Tugging at the shores of your creativity.
Your soul laid bare on the oceans expanse,
Feeling small, insignificant, on the curve of the earth.
It is a sanctuary for wildlife
Where the creatures do not judge
For the destructive tendencies
Of our negligent brothers.
It fosters a feeling,
A closeness to Nature.
Where one can reach out
And take her by the hand.
It is a memory of a time,
Long since passed,
Where humans and nature,
Were one in the same.
A Darker Turn
Hello my dear friend,
Is everything alright?
You haven't talked to me in weeks,
Or glanced those eyes at me.
Is everything alright my dear,
Has something gone awry?
Your words have all gone monotone,
Your actions quiet and subdued.
I tried to talk to you the other day,
Around half-past noon,
Your thoughts, a hammer, pushed me down,
Your words became an arsenal,
And your speech a slew of bullets.
Is something wrong my love?
Is something hurting you?
Is it something that I've done?
Am I the one who's wounded you?
You will never ever tell me,
Your walls have all been built-
Am I your Lilith, to tempt your soul,
Who's shunned from your pearly gates?
The Segrada Familia
I've never been the spiritual type,
often feeling out of place in a church
But this place...where do I begin...
Trees of stone extend to towering canopies,
And one feels small as the buildings arches extend to heights above your reach.
The leaves are glass, of blue, green, purple, orange, yellow and red,
Yet they seem to have been growing in the windows for centuries.
In the middle of the city, you are surrounded by nature,
An ancient forest that has sprung from the worn cobblestones.
Like watching the great pine grow,
This unfinished sanctuary will only expand and age with beauty and grace,
Forever a part of the forest, as though it has always grown ther...
Where Are You?
Sometimes, I just need to run…
To have my feet pound against wet pavement,
and let the rain mix with the salt of my tears.
I need to run from my weakness.
Sometimes I need to scream...
To let out my frustrations and anger
and feel the air leave my body,
In a gust of wind and hate.
Sometimes I need to cry...
to curl up in a ball in my bed,
and weep for all that hurts me.
I need to express my sorrow.
Sometimes I need to write...
to savagely type each line
as though it were my last.
I need to leave my opinions where they count.
But often I just need touch,
A warm embrace that heats my being,
or a gentle squeeze of a hand,
that tells me I’ll be alri...
A Perfect Moment
We lied together on the roof that night,
Watching the last tendrils of light,
Fade into the sleepiness of evening.
Our hands clasped,
Tapping fingers to the quiet music
That played softly from the radio.
Your green eyes sparkled as they looked toward the darkening sky,
And a happy smile spread across your face.
Tiny glittering dancers twirled across the heavens,
Swirling, and winking,
They spun around the sliver of silver moon
That hung like a strand of ribbon on a silken dress.
We were wrapped in evening beauty.
You pulled me close,
hugging me tight
And as we watched the evening lights together,
You whispered softly in my ear,
"I will always love you."
The Reflection in the Snow
Snow crunched softly under her grey, fur-lined boots. They were tied tightly to her small feet, letting her walk with feline grace . She quietly sighed, her breath curling in steamy tendrils out of her dark red lips. Her black eye lashes had little snowflakes stuck in them, which brought out the white in her icy blue eyes. Her alabaster face blushed blooming roses on her cheeks, and the cold nipped the tip of her delicate nose. Her long black hair was tucked into the hood of a woolen navy-blue jacket, which came down to her knees. There was a slight bulge on her left hip, like a thousand secrets were hidden there.
The large city was no longer a tourist attraction...
Happiness is Freedom
My heart soared, wings outstretched
Weaving in a summer breeze.
I danced with love
Laughing in the evening sunlight.
My glass was brimmed with happiness
And we sang.
Our voices filled the air
Power in each note,
And they played with the evening glow.
The smell of an open field
Wrapped us in wonder
As we sang with all of our hearts
To the endless expanse of land.
Our hands entwined,
We shared our joy
So all the world might hear.