Jun 02

So Often

So often,
I find myself giddy
with excitement.
Excitement for summer,
excitement for the independence 
that will come with it. 
So often,
I find myself 
a mix of many
unidentified emotions,
sometimes controllable,
sometimes the opposite. 
So often,
I find myself simply happy,
really happy,
for no apparent reason,
and when this feeling
runs through my mind,
as if finally free,
I try to lock it up once more,
in hopes of saving it for
other days,
when I,
or perhaps someone else,
might need it more. 

May 24

Summertime music

Days pass,
the air begins to lose
its cooling whispers,
and sweat drips
ever so slowly,
down your back. 
As you rise from 
your chair,
which sits with boredom,
watching the dust pile up,
on the piano's
yellowing ivory keys,
you begin to wonder,
what to do,
what to do?

You cross the bare,
wooden floor,
your feet sticking 
with every step. 
The long,
sweet rays of sun
illuminate constellations
of floating dust,
sleeping dust. 
as your mind searches for something,
to think of, 
to grasp,
you begin to wonder,
what to do,
oh, what to do?

these hot,
humid days,
when you're too tired 
to think,
to move,
and you find yourself
seeming empty.
So you lie down,
and you play some music,
some simple,
summertime music.
May 03

Remember every butterfly

So many things
are happening,
and it's almost as if time
is running
much too fast.
My sister,
she is going to college soon.
My friends,
I'll be able to see them all,
Summer is nearing,
and I'm wondering,
I am always wondering,
what the future holds.
For us,
all of us. 
It has already been two months
since we had to put my sweet,
loving dog,
but it hasn't felt like so much time. 
It's as if we are speeding through
the sky,
above the world below,
but beneath the endless universe that
blankets us. 
It's as if we are
so excited to escape reality,
to escape these problems,
that we miss enjoying the good parts.
I suppose what I am trying to say,
is that,
while you're flying freely with the birds,
make sure to stop and take a breath.
Don't forget to savor every cloud,
Apr 22

Figures On the Horizon

When I step outside,

there are so many things I notice,

so many things I see. 



colors I can’t even name.

But every time 

my eyes gaze upon this beautiful world,

I spot the shadows,

the figures,

emerging from the foggy horizon.


wondrous peaks,

sometimes topped with elegant snow,

drifting slowly downward,

like sweet, 

sweet chocolate.

They seem so far away,

while at other moments,

so close,

so familiar.

They are our protectors,

our angels. 

They engrave our sky,

our minds,

our hearts,

and we can’t imagine life without them.


as I watch them from one minute to the next,

I realize something.

I feel that they are worth protecting too. 
Apr 05

To Be Mistaken

We make mistakes.
I do,
you do. 
Our entire world does.
But a mistake
is more than what simply meets the eye.
A mistake
could be a misunderstanding.
A mistake
could be unspoken truths. 
It is to be wrong,
it is to be mistaken.  
To be mistaken is to be questioned.
To be mistaken is to be changed. 
It is to have to speak to others,
to have to use words,
and explain. 
Explain how this happened,
explain why.
To be mistaken is to be taught,
about right,
about wrong,
about differences and similarities.
To be mistaken is to be helped,
through good or bad,
through smiles or sorrow.
To be mistaken
is to be 
so many things.
and eventually,
Mar 16

As the sun dances

This morning,
this beautiful,
refreshing morning, 
I sat down in
a red recliner.
I sat,
and I wrote. 
My hands were typing,
while my eyes lingered
to the window,
the window that shielded me from harm,
but at the same time,
led me to watch, 
to discover.
I couldn't see the sun,
the cheerful sun,
the smiling sun,
but I saw the trees.
I saw the trees,
with the sunlight
shining on the tops of them,
like a spotlight.
I saw how,
so very gradually,
the sunlight faded away,
near the bottoms.
as the day moved along right in front of me,
I saw how everything,
the trees,
the homes,
the dew-dropped grass, 
got covered
in sunlight.
How wonderful
to be able to watch such a thing happen.
How magnificent
to be able to watch
as the sun dances.
Mar 08

Tangerine Moon

One night,
one sweet,
silent night,
I looked up at the sky.
I saw stars,
brighter than ever,
and the moon.
On that night,
as I lay in bed,
my eyes threatening 
to close,
threatening to darken the world
with my very own lids,
I turned my head to the window, 
as the sunset was taken 
to be watched,
to be guarded,
by the tangerine moon. 
How beautiful,
how mysterious,
this night was,
for it wouldn't be
so wonderful,
without this
tangerine moon.
Why would it want
to take the sunset
away from us?
Why would it want to 
keep such a thing,
such a wondrous thing,
to itself?
Perhaps it cares so deeply for it,
perhaps it wouldn't want it to be hurt,
by these billions of pairs of eyes. 
These eyes,
who wish to see
magnificent things.
These eyes,
Mar 01

When I Think of Spring

March 1st.
The time has almost come,
when animals,
will awake from their slumbers. 
The time has almost come,
when honeybees will 
dance around the flowers,
making me inch so shyly away.
The time has almost come,
for spring.
When I think of spring,
I see colors. 
Millions of
brilliant colors,
not painting,
but flooding the world,
in the most delicate way. 
When I think of spring,
I see people strolling
down my street,
When I think of spring,
I see new beginnings,
new hope,
for the sun will rise 
every day,
greeting us with light,
greeting us with warmth.
When I think of spring,
I see one of the best,
most wondrous things
that I could ask for.
Opening my eyes and
noticing the life,
the fun,
the beauty,
from outside of 
my window,
Feb 15

Those Summer Days

Those summer days,
when my sister and I 
played tag outside. 
Those summer days,
when we sat in the grass,
watching the trees.
Watching them sway,
watching them dance,
to the wind.
As if they were putting on a play,
a performance,
just for us,
only for us.
Those summer days,
when the tall,
strong but still elegant
in our backyard,
would stand,
beaming as my sister 
crawled her way to the top, 
looking down at me,
wishing that I had the guts
to do the same.
Those summer days,
when this tree would watch over,
when it would protect,
our lost animals. 
This tree, 
it did us wonders,
and it still does.
It still dances,
it still breathes,
it still lives,
it still loves.
It still gives us splinters,
but isn't it worth it?
Isn't it worth it to take a little pain,
Feb 15

Those Who Don't

There are so many lives,
so many stories,
of those who love,
those who laugh. 
There are so many people who
decide to do good 
and become known. 
So many people who have 
that they love to share.
And there are those who have nothing. 
There are those who speak words, 
just to say something.
There are those who cry,
just to be pitied. 
There are those who smile
but are never truly happy.
What can we do,
what can we believe,
to help anyone have an opinion, 
to make anyone known, 
to make anyone heard? 
What can we do,
for those who don't
truly speak?
What can we do,
for those who don't
truly live?