Sep 09

no new you

the sun departs again,
this time
carrying you with it,
cradling you, bringing you
to your home.
stealing mine away.

you are gone and I feel lost,
have lost,
am the embodiment of
I am losing my ability to 

a new sun appears, laughing.
a new moon nudges me, sighing.
a new tree shakes me, groaning.
a new bird pecks me, whistling.

and though I hope,

there is no
Sep 09


rummage among the blades 
to find the fruit.
some spotted, some mushy
some inhabited by worms.


choose the one that appeals 
to your eyes.


choose the one that stands out
from the rest
for whatever


they are all imperfect.
Sep 09


I am a resounding "yes!"
echoing in the ears of the grass
swimming through the sky
hopping in synchronization with the robin,
not answering anything in particular
just the question:

I am a quiet "no comment,"
a nonsensical nothing,
an anti-answer
in reply to the question:

I am a firm "no."
arguing against the inevitable statement:
Aug 29
poem 0 comments challenge: General

sometimes I forget to breathe

remind me that each breath starts in my nose,
winds its way down to my trachea,
redirects into my bronchial tubes,
which split into bronchioles, 
ending in alveoli 

it's funny that you are 
why I can enjoy breathing
because of the way you routinely inhale smoke
and I wonder if maybe
breathing is not your nature

and I like to think
I understand that.
sometimes breathing feels so laborous.
I feel heavy with air in my lungs, as though it doesn't belong.
my exhales often come in the form of sighs and my inhales are shallow
sometimes I hold my breath for too long
like I am underwater and 
I'll drown in the world if I breathe in.

but then you raise that eyebrow of yours
and I realize that I wouldn't mind drowning in you

and I realize I must breathe if I am to laugh
(you make me want to laugh)
I must breathe if I am to sing