May 06

How It Is / My english teacher wanted me to write a metaphorical poem

The sky is filled today

every shape
whisking and piling up
in it's dome of reality

Standing on the beach
beside the ocean
unfurling waves
a little girl
with sundropped skin and
red boots
she sees this
and wonders how it came to be

Weaving violets into crowns
picking up each shell her foot hits
to examine
and lay back where it was

Watching as the sky blooms
and the clouds ebb with color

Throw a shell 
into the sea
it gets washed back up on shore

The little girl, she
lays down on
the rain dimpled sand
watches as
stars try to break through the misty screen
a few succeed

Wind is pulling her
long braids
as if it's trying
Apr 08

So Dream Me

The sky is out to get me tonight
But I am not ready to face it
What I am afraid real life is
Is not what my life is like right now
I'm in a dream
I don't want to wake up
So I'll keep dreaming

So dream me silks and lace
woven from the sky
Watermelon flavored stars
shining above our heads

Dream me rivers of lilies
and thousands of fireflies
Pillows of plum and
sheets of cream

So dream me pineapples
all your faults and mistakes
dream me wishing
them all away
Steering my ship
through a bottle of blue

So dream me a bird
or a kite if you wish
I just want to fly

Dream me avacados
pears and coconuts, dream me
a place where the sky glass shatters

So dream me free
Mar 26

Pineapples/Tell Me A Story

"Tell me a story", she says, eyes shining.

smooth my hand over the 
sand that lies rippled 
all around us.

"What would you like to hear?"

Wind twists through her hair and
she tosses its licorice strands impatiently
from her face.

"A story where
butterflies glow and
you can see the ribbons

that keep the stars hanging in the sky.
Fish who have two tails and...

tell me about popsicle stands
at the bottom of the ocean that
you can only get to by riding a blue whale."

"Are you ready?"

I want a story where you can taste
the wind, like blue raspberry or watermelon.
And form it into shapes, like llamas maybe. And turtles.
Mar 02

A letter for everyone on YWP: Thank You

For Everyone on YWP, 

I don't normally write letters, or tell people what I'm about to write...but this is special. 
This site, and all the people on this site, you have so helped me. I can't thank you enough. I write to cope with hard things, to get all my words I can't say out loud, out of my head. And it helps even more, when other writers read those poems/rants/wordbursts.

Mar 02


While the rose blooms
its thorns don't bother me
I keep jars full of dreams
on my nightstand and
walk stony beaches
where pussy willow branches
lace a roof over my head

While the rose blooms
its thorns don't bother me
I live on a ship in a bottle
glitter waves wash me into oblivion

write love notes on dusty flower petals
whose colors have faded but
still feel like summer
and throw them to the wind

While the rose blooms
its thorns don't bother me
I travel by hot air balloon
wear dresses woven 
from musical notes and 
tied at the waist with sunbeams

While the rose blooms
its thorns don't bother me
I sip nectar from flowers with the hummingbirds
and hunt rabbits with the fox
take shortcuts and longcuts
Feb 15

A frostbitten moon

In my dreams
a frostbitten moon feels warm
and lemon blossoms
scent the air

People ride
on origami paper cranes
and the roads are paved with sandstone
implanted with seaglass

In my dreams
everyone lives
in brightly colored birdhouses
up in trees with
strands of marbles glittering
in their branches

Vendors sell fresh orange slices
dipped in honey
and tissue paper flowers
bloom at night while
people dance with their soulmates

In my dreams
there are long sandy beaches
lined with turquoise water
and coated with honeysuckle blooms
There is no sky
the sun and stars hang
and the snow that falls
is any color you want it to be

There is no climate change
no racism
no fossil fuels
no hunger

In my dreams
Jan 04

What Happened Yesterday

What happened yesterday
It broke me a little
my identity

used to be proud to be an American
used to be proud
of what a strong country we were
I don't know what to feel
except shame
and fear

The past year
was already crazy enough
I was glad
for 2021
A new start! 
I thought

What happened yesterday
broke me a little

Our country
is called the 
United States
So tell me then
why are we so split apart?

And storming the Capital!
It's not going to change
who becomes President
It's still going to happen

went to a store today to
buy groceries
The boy who checked my things out
asked me how I was
I told him good although
maybe I should have been more honest
Told him I'm
but in the worst way possible
Jan 04
poem challenge: Unexplained

In the afterlife

In the afterlife
we live in a place
filled with swirling
silk clothed dancers
light on their feet
around trees dripping
with white Christmas lights

We drink green tea while
petals from cherry trees 
blow around us
we all hear the same music
but it never sounds the same twice

In the afterlife
we sleep in open air houses
white gauzy curtains billowing
in the lavender wind
colorful cushions
scattered all through the house

We fly kites with
long streamer tails
against the sunset
and drink moonlight
from water lilies

In the afterlife
everyone talks in colors
walks cobblestoned streets
lined with blooming apple trees
and clear canals

The rain smells like wild blueberries
and the thunderstorms over the
dark evergreen mountains
like crushed ginger

In the afterlife
Dec 01


On the subway
I am
just another face for
peoples eyes to skim over

another person sitting
on a worn peeling
tangerine colored seat
under flickering
fluorescant lights

On the subway I
blend into the grey
breathe in
breathe out

next to an old woman
wearing a faux purple coat
purple like
mourning doves and crocusts
purple like amethyst crystals
the color of sad

Next to me
a man in a blue vest
head topped 
with a black bowler hat
gazing at a crinkled photo of
a little girl holding a flower
beaming a sunny grin
The subway sways
breathe in
breathe out

Across from me
two women

with a giant black afro
wearing huge aquamarine headphones
Nov 09



Thistle down
and lavender
wind like
dragonfly wings softly
kissing my face

The shy butterfly sunlight
so timid
in the morning
now boldly touching everything
one last time
ribboning its golden tendrils
through my already
redgoldautumnpink hair
turning me
just for a moment
into one of its
fire dipped butterflies


Sky is painted now
in shades of
creamy avacado insides
carribean blue nail polish

Skeleton trees no longer casting shadows
they are the shadows
stars one by
blipping into existence
natural christmas lights
arranged in
intimate patterns
for artists to re-create


In my room
fingering the seaglass ornanment
hanging from the ceiling and 
causing me to 
rocky beaches