Friday, May 11, 2012


It isn't as if when I'm feeling this way I can drive out to some remote piece of earth and feel a presence of the Lord or something supernatural. The oceans, mountains, and forest lay in a land beyond my gas tank and minimum wage paycheck. Somehow my depression doesn't drive me to be frivolous. Pop art becomes annoying as it is painstakingly at every corner with a billboard lighting up the night sky. I can't escape to chains in the middle of the night, their all to well known glow is disheartening.
I can't escape this feeling, and I'm surely just dying.

Thursday, March 1, 2012

First poem in a year and a half.

(I have been on hiatus from writing poetry for a year and a half, hopeful that this poem will spark many more)

It's so tyrannical how my mind works.
Killing so many thoughts
So many words.
Hoping this dusty silence has a chance.
The bones relapsing, creaking, and cracking.
Morning breath slipping,
and my eyes wishing they were seeing.
Trying to encompass everything of the like.
Allowing the sun to set, and for there to be night.

Thursday, September 16, 2010

Untitled #26

Well, here I am
I am what you see
There is apathy bleeding out my eyes
The whole cogestion of inaccuracy
Spilling from my depths
This is a tale of wonder
The socially inept
But de facto
I actually came to plea
That you'd judge me by
my thought
Not my insanity.

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Untitled #25

I've come back
Only to hold up
The social standard
We once kept
Yet, mother has swept
Them under the book case
Opportunity is laced
On our cardigans
It buttons up our jackets
And dangles from our ears
The vacuum hasn't seen
The light since
Sculpting the bunnies
That hide under the rug
Feeding them
Every inch of paper
In the pantry
On the backs
Of cereal boxes
Telling us
Preaching to us
What's your next

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Untitled #24

I'm trying to paint this
Pretty little picture
Trust me I am
My paints keep drying
And shaking, are my hands
I want this so I may
Hang it on a wall
The whitest wall in the
The tiny room
I can call my own
But only sometimes
When the weather permits
Otherwise, nothing is my own
I hope to change this
With my painting
but you see
The long tiresome years
Make me not care anymore
So I'll just sit in my room
imagining stars.

Saturday, June 26, 2010

Untitled #23

You know,
You can always ask people
About their stories
Their wildest adventures
Living vicariously through them
As you sit at home
Making sure every wall is white
Every mirror clean
Every glass full
Never letting the dust settle
Because that would truly
Tell that their isn't life here
So rearrange the patterns
They won't notice
It's more stealthy
Because it's just one
Cradle rob away
For any dream you've
Nursed to life
Yet, made sure it was
Crippled and held back
Chewing on steel
Was never that satisfying
In the first place

Thursday, June 24, 2010


Want to know the cheapest word
You can buy?
Go ahead and spin the wheel; the price is right.
Sharper the knife
The thinner the deal
Mass produced
A consumeristic appeal
Everything and nothing
Has been attached
No more lock
No more latch
You ask me
What I want for
My birthday.
We could buy back
The word that isn't
In lack.
No deficit
No empty account
Lets lock it up
Never let it out
Until those
Can figure out the lock
Travel the maze
They unassembled the clock
Deserved the word
That was shut up
Don't let this
put you down
The greeks
The hebrews
Knew what it all was about
This'll be the last I speak of this
Because all of you repeat
allowing the stimulation of
Neurons to diminish