from a porch, must move on


i’ll step down

go ahead

climb up

not what you thought?

it’s yours now

responsibility and all

see, it’s not easy

i know the feeling

letting go

so, goodbye, your fate depends on a visitor

or stone

goodbye, sights are yours to decipher


goodbye, careful what you wish for

candle blown

goodbye, i’m moving on

dismounting, grown




from a rented bed, all i got

tom petty sang the song

free fallin

i always identified with the vampires walking in the valley

i would’ve moved with them

until i discovered

daylight drops from the sky synchronizing singular beings with the whole

survival of the fittest

not might

it’s wrong

i fell into something

mostly an old song

humming along

from a rented bed, anxious

we sit

bees swarm

trouble finds them

newspapers and backs of hands

getting up

wading through crowds

designer jeans worn by misfit teenagers

stretching and warranting a surprise

here comes the sun

milk and honey

blisters find fingers

searching for sustenance

blankets fall uneven

grass not mowed

nothing distracting us

we now lay alone

looking up

beautiful side of duality

potential disaster

as ashes fall, we cheer

could they imagine

this cunning freedom

we walk back

to homes undisturbed

from bed, an effort for peace

deliver me from heavenly creatures who only do the bidding of their own kind, to protect the flight of wings wound with wire and feathers, mesh and flesh

preserving all they know

without looking out

candles burn

leading our way to shoe clad monsters clip-clop-clapping around

uncovering homes of the lost and unfound

exposing fault to find faith

sharing inadequacy, it wasn’t the seventh but the eighth

day, when we sang together

you, soaring above, nose high, self-righteous indignation, mirrors must not be hoisted to the sky, the atmosphere is two-ply, insulating insults, words we catch in the breeze

when you come down

to where we dwell

witness instead of speculate

heaven describes what’s above alone, not a status of gold perched on a throne

what do you call us when setting the table of difference?




mother and brother

we’ll share spaces

find more pleasure

touching faces

from a porch, rain is coming

grafted personalities with wind-blown hairdos did the desert dance in sand filled bedrooms while clutching arid histories against milk depleted breasts

hope crumbled as swirling dirt devils divided what happened


what was wished for

we can’t taste the innocence of a sour dairy kiss anymore, without wondering which farm you wandered away from

developing a future, progeny

will cease

birds will fly

dogs will bark

worms will weasel through holes, no longer visiting the sea

we came together, for destruction

brought together, so they could continue on

from an airport, excuse me

tongue tied

i lost my footing and tripped into a torture chamber

landing, wide-eyed, squinting about unable to find a way out

strained wrinkles messing my face, a rearranged place that mind-shadows cast years ago in half-lit rooms, i ran in circles, a single cloud followed my gloom

after days trapped alone i started building my tomb, until i heard whispers from above, something about a dove and desert blooms

faint glimpses of hope under half moons

happiness kept at bay, waiting out the storm

i missed my chance

contrasts, duality blasts, me and you

one morning, by my best estimation, i found my words

i screamed through echo chamber hallways that led me to fluorescent buzzing, illuminating everything, obnoxiously

i can’t hide!

how do i know when i’m good enough?

without the ability to fall again

through the floor

how much lower?

this is the end?

i can’t trip again, into your hole

free to die

speaking my mind

from a strange bed, short lived insight

standing in line waiting for you to come out

leaving the door open would have helped me hear the shouts of your bruised arms battling another night wishing he’d come home

it doesn’t matter that we stayed

he couldn’t stand to reflect on the bed we made, believing tonight was the last time we’d feel hope

go to sleep now

it’s time