Continue reading The Transitory Nature of Self

The Transitory Nature of Self

It seems as though I am in a constant state of transition. People come, people go, but nothing ever really changes. Perpetual motion until a greater force propels me in another direction. I ache to find stability in earthquake friendly regions. Why do I open myself to such heartache? I must’ve been a masochist in…

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Continue reading I Don’t Like September

I Don’t Like September

I do not like September. With its cooling breeze and covered knees, Lyrically imprisoned in someone else’s dreams. It’s back to school, march one, two, three. I do not like September. Three steps closer to the end of the year. Which begs the question: where did it go? One happy little walk off a very…

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Continue reading Ninety-Eight Degrees

Ninety-Eight Degrees

I’ve forgotten how to sing. The pen scratches paper but yields no wheat. I’ve lost my soul to someone else’s anarchy. Withdrawn lies under the symphony, But I gather no sympathy. Ginger seas rock to simple little melodies. Help me to remember how to sing.

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Continue reading Morning at the Office

Morning at the Office

Stoic and upright in the throne The electric seduction of mechanically cooled air Blurs the punctured silence of ambiance Doors open and close above and below Never behind Leaves on the tree hover between a kaleidoscope of evergreen It’s time for a meal Patience knowing the wait is a little longer For the welcome respite…

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Continue reading The Happening

The Happening

I choose to believe there is life after this. The lives we lead are blighted little stepping stones to eternity. But I don’t know Eternity. I know what I know here: Her uniquely stark answering machine messages (just like my Dad) McDonald’s gift certificates every Christmas (hella treats for months afterwards) The Little Mermaid themed…

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Continue reading Blinded

Blinded

If I could, I would give my eyes back to God Return to sender, address unknown To remove from me the grief that comes With being slightly blind in everyday situations These pinpricks of space that adjust appropriately To the dark, to the light, unto the breach Can’t see the leaf on the wind, watch…

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Continue reading Exile on Fulton Street

Exile on Fulton Street

Oakland/Union City/Modesto/Vegas mixed my blood Gasoline and fire To my words and music. I shall return to dust rocks, palm trees, tumbleweeds Herald my arrival So many pages to a person. Insatiable hunger Unstable thoughts Move onto the next Stiff breeze on my neck. Unfolded dreams revised for the crowd Origami cranes blanket the Pacific…

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