Dec 23

Letters to the Senators

(A/N This is a copy of a letter I wrote to all 100 senators asking them to remove Donald Trump from office. I am so fed up with being silent.)

Dear Senator,

We need to remove President Trump from office. Time and time again we have seen that he is guilty of many crimes and that he should not be allowed to get away with it. The president of the United States should not be above the law. And yet, if any other person did the things President Trump has done, they would be held accountable for their actions. So why, I ask you, is he still fighting back against the system that keeps America a just and fair place?
Dec 19

Lost and Found (An Abecedarian poem)

and the candle flame falls
but we still try to dream on a
dipped in memories
emersed in a bittersweet 
feel of a
grudge against the universe, a
hatred for the wretched and 
indolent sky thief for
just as we begin to love something it is 
lost in the great relms of the
night sky. 
only in
photos of the 
quaking earth can we finally find a 
reason to live and in the 
stars we see the constellation of
the lost and loved for
underneath that blanket of light their
veins run thick with your tears
while you 
x-ray every part of their soul to hold in 
your hands until the love of the world
zips up your bleeding heart and his candle burns in our eyes forever.

Dec 06

Dark Matter

I say you yesterday
holding hands with someone
as the snow came swirling around you
and your boots
swished through the flakes
and it made me happy.
I saw you standing 
in the kitchen
the smoke swirling up into your face
like a delicate candle flame
that reminded me how much 
I missed you.
I saw you in the mirror
and you mattered the most
your hair that never falls perfectly
and the annoying random blemishs
that seem to crop up
for no particular reason
and your brown eyes
and flowing hair
I saw all of you cause you matter to me
and maybe
if I'm lucky
I matter
to you.

Nov 25

stars and rain

every poem starts with stars
and ends with rain
because only a poet dares
to stand in each of 
these elements
with an already filled
as they frantically scribble in the ripped margins
by the light of the stars
words that hopefully
someone will hear 
before the cold rain falls
and turns thoughts
to ink

Nov 15


Nov 14

The Forgotten People

Nov 09


Nov 05

Blank ovals

You seem to think
I want a vote
a voice
a choice
a brain behind my grin
but all I want are blank ovals 
and a sharpie to fill them in.

I'd color each
in orderly lines
like soldiers
they smolder
a fire tinged vapor
but it won't burn away all my blank ovals
or the sharpie marks bleeding into the paper.

I press down
my sharpie
inky blood
deep grudge
carved into history
these blank blank ovals
Nov 02


each blade of grass
was grown
for you
these birds sing your song
this road goes nowhere just for you
the sun gives you the gift of dawn

these trees bear fruit
so you
may eat
this stream babbles your name
these shoes were sewn for your weary feet
this door opened when you came.

my world was built
for you
to find
to have your "one" be "two"
I sit and wait to hear your name
And somewhere you wait for me too.