Food of the dead like dreams of the living Songs in my head like riddles in space I once was in bed with a guy that said people don’t give in at the place where he’s from and I didn’t believe him then he mentioned he was an alien and I got curious. Nerves slid down my spine like a snowfall in winter I asked him some questions and he answered like a prisoner. We...
One of my poems, Ah, the City, just won the WragsInk Philly poetry contest :) See page 6 of my blog if you want to check it out!!!!
Old Soul An old soul some say looking back on my life like an old lady rocking in a wooden chair and hitting the wall with my elbow as I ponder fast happenings, flocking mistakes, charming fellows I used to date then I slap my hand on my knee, maybe as smiles dawn upon my face slowly like through the dark hours when morning breaks uncanny how it seems and when thoughts of oneself are...
If the woods could talk right next to the school they would complain like I do sometimes about you, and rude kids and bad weather, chirping some resentment that’s natural I think once I heard them whispering about happiness in summer I can’t remember after I sat up too fast today and got a real rush of air drugged in hopefulness and marijuana pretty sure the trees told me...
Freud, like many others said dreams are where to be, if you want to fly but I say, absolutely not Stay here and choose reality, the greatest flight of all. With this philosophy in mind, I made a bullseye right before summer some people call it full-circle, what have you A round-about way of remembering this one time, as a child my Dad said he didn’t want me to get dirty, but I...
The clouds, do what they do hang like velvet curtains over the city My thoughts, they hang in the sky too, but weigh heavy. Philadelphia is a clam shell all the innards and dirt the musky smell inside it all reminds me of you Or maybe me? Myself in a different time and place Yourself in a space of another person’s company, female or male, it doesn’t matter. What I say is...
They see this innocent face The years go by, but it never appears graced with age At this place, they can’t place me They say I look like a baby So cute, childlike, young and sprung unlike their dark, old fantasies Box me in, why? They think that makes it easy Not that I am new, you see I say open your minds Call me naive, maybe When it’s really experience beyond belief,...
Perhaps, it is all a trap to go down that old path when I imagined I already had turned back. Lacking in clarity but not really wanting any From the looks of those same old trees, that dirt, those leaves everything is the same, nothing is the same, and the path under wraps looks tidy.