crawl spaces

I'm crawling into tiny spaces,
Combing through a massive chaos.

I'm going to miss these walls, this mess-
Knowing that all this will end,
Was uncertainty my closest,
Only friend?

Climbing over piles of disarray,
Am I happy, sad, confused, or still afraid?

There's history here,
The space between each page.
I'm crawling through ink and words
And can't backspace.

I'm climbing the mountain,
Mounds of what could have been.
Melting scene,
Melange of memory.

This avalanche I rummage through,
It's finally time to break through-

The tunnel to flood with light,

The story to end.

This mess I've made cleaned up,
The road to bend.

And I thought it would feel different-
Bittersweet,
It's confusing
And a little bit empty.

But I would rather curl up here
Inside these places-
Nestled against my books
And the rocks
And the darkness.

These crawl spaces,
This chaos.

ghost

You linger in all my blues and greens.
Stagnant water, flowing streams
Turned to stone with your soft touch-
Everything must come to dust.

You brought your old gray fingertips
Up to my Eden-apple lips.
Silenced now, they turn to rust-
Every tone that you have hushed.

But a muted color still can speak,
Though dimmer, darker now it seems.
These things I hear and feel and see,
A ghost of all that used to be.

hope

I'm feeling so many things,
And I'm losing all my hope.

It's not silence that makes you deaf,
It's too much noise,
And I've heard enough.

It's feeling that makes you numb,
Frozen fingers in the cold.
Sensation so strong,
Now slipping away-
Maybe one day I'll be bold.

But now I'm losing all my hope.

collapse

I fold myself
Like a napkin on the table.
Small and plain,
An envelope
For things that will never be sent.

Folding, find
In every crease,
Tucked away,
A piece of me-
Safe here
Underneath.

Laden on your lap,
I do not sparkle.
Fine china
Still I hide
Under the table.

Folding, falling
Into myself.
Bending, collapsing,
My skin
Softly pressed
Into the shape
Of something simple.

I was not made
For wonderful things-
Scraps of peace
That fall from you.
This mystery,
This everlasting feast.

You grow
And I become smaller
And smaller.

Stained and slight,
Tucked out of sight.

I was made for little things-
Hidden things.
Collapsing like a wave,
But I am soft
And make no sound.

I fold myself
Like a napkin on the table.
Waiting for the aftermath,
White foam on the beach.
Slipping away,
Foam and lace.
Collapse, unwind-
Find your way back
To the sky.

How boundless this place,
And I a piece.
I'll fold myself
To take up less space
In this wonderful mystery,
Make it part of me.

Tucked away and treasured-
Pondered in my heart.

turbulence

Jolted in my seat
By an invisible force.
Shaky on my feet,
First step of a toddler.

But no one stretches out a hand,
No one else can see the wind.

The skies are clear
But shake me still.
I fear I've been lifted
Only to fall.

Falling,
How I've dreamed of the descent.
I'm found at the beginning
Once again.

Falling,
Is it suicide
To leave who I am behind?

No escape from the turbulence
But to throw myself into the sky.

I'll jump from the plane
Of these violent thoughts,
Fall into a place
Where these invisible things
Don't move me so much.

Here I am,
At the beginning again-
I'm still learning how to walk,
Still dreaming of the fall.

And I wonder,
Did you notice at all?

oil pastels

Cardinal sitting
In a pear tree-
Chlorophyll pulsing
Through every leaf.
Blood-red against
A brilliant green,
Life in every
Shade I see.

An amateur
With oil pastels,
Illinois morning
Sounds and smells.
Simple sketches
In my book,
Rocking chair
And flower pot.

Cardinal calling
Out to me-
Blended colors,
Vibrant scene.
Rockford days,
Soft greens and blues-
Cardinal display
In a world subdued.

blue flame

The world passed by
In flashes of orange and red.
Fire burning,
Leaping mindlessly
From the building
Like autumn leaves
From the trees.

But you were a blue flame.
Focused heat,
Intensity.

Inhaling the chemicals,
You breathed out your small light,
Concentrated your rage
Into a hush.
Beautiful,
But a danger to touch.

A blue flame
In the midst of autumn,
Immortal.

miscarried

Offspring of your anger-

Miracle mistaken.

I guess that I was only

A disappointment.

Sanctity of life,

But life is hatred,

Holiness miscarried-

Human wasted.

fade to yellow

Jaundice,
Fading to yellow.
Dandelions dissolving
Into the meadow
Of my skin.

I feel it within,
The color,
Bold and faint.
Aging, the pages
Of an old book.

Yellowed edges,
But the story still so young-
Nothing new
Under the wide
Yellow sun.

Jaundice,
Bile of becoming.
Bittersweet,
Accumulating.

Yellow,
All the days
Will bring me closer
To its light.

The smell of ink
On a page.
Hollow cheeks,
White of my eyes.

Beautiful sickness
Of becoming.
This story now
Is ending.

blackboard sky

Exploding with poetry
Like the fourth of July,
Writing my words
On the blackboard sky.

Chalk dust, black powder
To light with a flame.
Inspiration, a spark
For the words to escape.

Exploding with poetry-
The words I don't speak.
Firework fragments,
Today we are free.

the approaching storm

The faint sound of thunder,
Still far away.
All that power
Waiting, building in the sky.
In the softest clouds,
Hints of gray.
Distant, potent,
The smell of rain.

All the earth
In anticipation-
This beautiful tension.
I would stay
With my feet in the grass
And soak in every vibration-
Listen.

The birds call out their warning-
The approaching storm.
But they do not see the lightning
Coursing through my veins-
How I love the rain.

The greatest peace-
Life all around me,
Longing for rain-
Knowing it is coming.

Now it has come,
Soft roar of the drums-
Fulfillment of your hope.

The humble ground
Bathed in your glory.
Cloak of humidity,
Wrapped in your story.

Together with nature,
I see how this darkness
Makes us alive.
The rush of your waterfalls
Against the window
Where I watch, inside.

humidity

The humidity falls around me
Like the branches of a weeping willow tree,
Encircling, sweet in their sorrow.
There's a thickness to the air
Like I could hold it there
And wrap it around myself.

The end of your slumber,
Winter is over,
And everything seems somehow full.
The air and the trees,
Summer drifts back to sleep.
A blanket of steam and not snow.

london, 1802

From "London, 1802," by Wordsworth.

"Thy soul was a star, and dwelt apart:

Thou hadst a voice whose sound was like the sea:

Pure as the naked heavens, majestic, free,

So didst thou travel on life's common way,

In cheerful godliness; and yet thy heart

The lowliest duties on herself did lay."

a lamp to my feet

Oh, how much a perspective can change
In only just one week.
Life can seem hopeless one moment,
And the next moment so sweet.

But then I find I'm back again,
Fluctuating so easily.
Back where I started, like I never parted
With the fear that's haunting me.

When everything is changing
How do I know what to believe?
My emotions are unreliable,
But Thy Word is a lamp to my feet.

lime and not a lemon

You wanted to be different,
And it seemed so strange to me.
Lime and not a lemon in your drink,
Your peach iced tea.

You wanted to be special,
And I wish that you could see
That though the stars are infinite,
You mean the universe to me.

to the ocean

You were a wave,
And I wasn't expecting it,
But you crashed over me
In the most wonderful way.

The crest appeared,
Closer and closer,
And I was so small
Under the weight of it all.

Crashing, pounding,
Fully submerged-
You made me breathless,
But I felt somehow free.

You were a wave,
And your embrace
Was a little like chaos-
Throwing me back into the sea.

This infinite place-
It's sweet and strange,
And I'm glad I could be here with you,
And I'm glad you could love me too.

I want to feel this way again-
Take me to the ocean.

take flight

Every day
A dystrophy
Under the weight
Of melancholy.

And I'm finding that
The ache is good.
I'm simple, smaller,
Understood.

If fear could make
Us beautiful,
I'd gladly step up
On the scale

And watch it drop
As I take flight,
Farewell to sorrow
And my spite.

residue

Your memory
A residue.
Atrophy
Of every hue.

Colors fade,
A flickering blue.
Runaway
Remnant of you.

a new song

When it's not easy to converse,
That's when my mind is filled with verse.

I'll sing the song that awakens the throng
Of demons, dark and dead.
And I'll ponder the ways that I went wrong
And all the words I said.

Awake, awake, beneath their wings
What shadows, what great shade.
This wretched song I'm singing,
All the messes that I've made.

And the verse that fills my mind tonight
Comes easily to me.
Oh, how expensive is the light
When darkness is so cheap.

When it's not easy to converse,
That's when I'm trapped within the hearse.

But You sing a new song, awaken the throng
Of angels at your side.
And I see the ways that I went wrong,
Then how You bled and died.

Awake, awake, beneath Your wings-
You make the shadows flee,
And with the new song that You sing
You've resurrected me.

And the verse that fills my mind tonight,
It echoes with Your praise.
Oh, how expensive was the light,
How costly is Your grace.

house of bricks

Hello again, anxiety.
I wish you'd thought to RSVP.
I really don't have time for this-
You use up all my resources.

You dropped in uninvited,
Did you think I'd be excited?
I know your games, I know your tricks-
A house of straw, a house of sticks.

You're a wolf and I'm three little pigs,
And though there's no hair on my chin,
I've built myself a house of bricks-
You've consumed me twice, but not again.

strawberry jam

Like strawberry jam,
Preserve the pain-
Flavor of
My cherished hate.

Gathered on the knife
And spread across
The bread of my skin,
The taste of my sin.

Perfectly preserved
In scar-
The flavors of
A wounded heart.

surface tension

Inward force of my introspection-
Give in to the surface tension.
Drawn like a water droplet
Into myself.

Clustering cohesion,
Righteously resisting reason.
Unresolved-
Afraid to leave my cell.

Liquid laceration,
Stimulating new sensation.
I'm swimming, spinning round
Inside my shell.

Reflection in the water,
Fascinating ice interior.
Still I'm stuck inside the snow globe
Of my soul.

bike wheels

The lonely shadow of a figure on her bike.
Aging April night,
She cried-
Just wondering if someone could see her
Other than the sky.

Her bike wheels turning,
She was learning
How to be alive and be alone.
She just wanted to belong and be at home.

Aging April night,
She rode-
Wishing the sidewalk would never end,
Or take her to a place
Where she had a friend.

A runaway,
The end of day.
Take me somewhere I don't feel worthless.
Skidding the brakes,
That empty ache-
What did I do to deserve this?

The lonely shadow of a figure on her bike.
All those April nights
She sighed.
And decided the sky
Would have to be enough.

So Aprils turned to Mays and Junes
And the sky turned lovely colors too.

She's riding on,
Til the sidewalk ends.
She's going home,
Alive again.

genesis

Genesis
And gentleness-
The seventh day
You made for rest.
You fashion me
So tenderly.
You mold the earth,
You hold the sea.

Burning bush,
The great I Am-
Your power to
The plant no harm.
Escaping from
Your arms again.
You hold the sea,
You saw my sin.

Beautified
Because you died.
For my pride,
Humility.
Your patience and
My apathy.
You mold the earth,
You're molding me.

magnolias

Yellow flowers,
Glossy, leather leaves.
Golden hour,
Budding botany.

Elizabeth in color,
Or evergreen?
Would I choose to lose my leaves
And bloom in Spring?

Or to keep them,
Shining sheaths in winter wind.
Bracken's beauty,
Browning bare behind.

Our simple meetings,
Yard with two tall trees.
Only one will last,
My fickle, fading dream.

Magnolias,
Beginnings and my bliss.
When April evenings
Are my genesis.

hotel

You are my hotel-
To live in the mansion of your smile.
You're not my home,
But I'd like to stay awhile.

Luxury of your laughter,
Loud and clear.
Bountiful,
A crystal chandelier.

I'm on a journey,
Vagabond, my soul-
Your kindness and your love
My second home.

You are my hotel-
Welcoming mansion of your smile.
I'm not alone
When you let me inside.

raskolnikov

Dark corridors,
Streets of St. Petersburg.
The staircase where you wandered,
Wondered
If the sun would shine the same,
If you could be great.

It was better as a fantasy,
The alley where they lie under a stone-
You didn't want them anymore,
Would rather throw yourself
Into the river
With the roubles.
Was it worth it?

This pain is your own doing-
Tormented by the question,
The desire to be different-
Could you kill?

If you were great,
It didn't last-
The ramblings of a mad man.
How to get rid of her ghost
When she was only a louse
And you were Napoleon?

But Napoleon must kiss the ground,
Story of Lazarus
You read in her room.
Weep and cry out
"I am a murderer."

It was more than Lizaveta
And the pawnbroker.
You killed the man
You used to be.
And for what?
To prove your theory.

How are you so different
From the nasty Svidrigailov?
Is this all that we are,
In a moment gone?
Crushed under the carriage
And the horse?

You saw it in your dream,
The whip, the fall-
Hid it in a crack in the wall,
Sound of a knock on the door.

A fearful lie
That we will have time
To speak freely of everything.
Siberia, the only freedom
From the bondage of your silence.

Sonia,
Shame and beauty that you share.
Lay down your bloody axe,
Lay down your fear.

Napoleon
Is nothing now,
Worn old Bible of Lizaveta
In the hands of a prostitute.
The Neva will not claim you.

Trade the prison of your madness
For the iron bars of justice-
Haven't you suffered enough
Under the weight of your guilt?
But this is right.
There is life in the reveal.

You have failed
And you will turn yourself in.
Epilogue,
Facing your sin.
How do you live with a ghost?
You become one yourself.

Still holding on to your theory,
Great men can,
But you were not great.
All of this
The fastidiousness
Of youth-
The murderer and the prostitute.

Lazarus, lay down your pride.
She has followed you
Into the darkness.
Shadows of the past,
Light of forgiveness.

2:53

2:53
In the morning-
The things I'd miss
If I were asleep.

Here I am,
Awake this time,
Talking to you
And I can't say goodnight.

You said that I'm intriguing,
But I'd rather not be a mystery-
I'd rather just be me.

You said that I'm deep
And you like that part of me,
But I'm not an ocean,
I'm just a person-
Human
At 2:57.

The things that cross our minds
After midnight,
Worth being tired.

And you're worth it too-
These things I try to prove to you
At 3:02.

Still unsure,
3:24.

Oh, 3:43,
How can it be?
I hope I'm not
A mystery.
I'm still learning about honesty.

Goodnight,
Or is it good morning?

word find

There's a word find
Somewhere inside my mind.

Random scattering of letters
Swirling through my head-

I look through all the chaos,
Searching for some sense.

Suddenly, it's clear, a word-
Standing out inside the grid.

A million combinations
Waiting, hidden.

I circle them,
Catch them with my pen.

Distract myself
With this game of hide and seek.

A game
That's also known as poetry.

timpani

I won't be timorous today,

I'd rather be a timpani.
Bold, a rhythm of my own,
Percussion, pounding palindrome.

Each way I go I sound the same
No doubt or inconsistency.
No need to be timid or afraid,

Today I'll be a symphony.

purple colored pencil

I'm writing this poem
In purple colored pencil.
Well, actually it's blue,
But I thought purple sounded better.

I learned in English class
That alliteration is poetic.
But do I have to lie
To try and make my writing perfect?

Do I want it to be
Beautiful or true?
Can it be both,
Or must I always choose?

compromise

Compromise,
Slipping away.
Behind my eyes
I am afraid.

Am I finding common ground
Or being swayed?

Your influence
Undeniable,
Trying to regain control.

It's all been in my hands
Right from the start,
But what the hands do
Comes right from the heart.

And that's where you are.

Compromise,
Slipping away,
As who I am
Begins to fade.

These things I didn't think
You could invade-

I was wrong.

Your influence
Unshakable.
I've never had control at all.

But it's all been in my hands
Right from the start,
So now these consequences
Are my fault.

I was wrong
To let you in.

cannons

The brain fires off its neurons

Like a war zone filled with cannons,

Just waiting to explode,

To send my body into action.

Fight or flight from all the violence,

But I have to sit in silence.

Building,

Broken string, my violin.

I wish I could replace these cannons

With the ones by Pachelbel,

But my instrument is broken

And the music cannot swell.

Raging, ruthless battlefield,

And I can't run away.

Help me find the melody,

When the music in me fades.

understood

I've been over-stood and outer-stood,
Inner-stood and upper-stood.
Everything but understood.

And I've spent so much time standing,
Searching every preposition,
Before, behind, below, beneath, beside.

And I've learned that love's not something
That's in only one position.
Between, beyond, and in the by and by.

coloring books

Hearts don't look
The way they do
In valentines
And coloring books-
Pair of parabolas
Reaching for a point.

They're more than just a shape
Because they're something that's alive.
Valves and pumps,
Bruises and bumps-
It's real,
This heart of mine.

anatomy of a hillside

The sun is shining, bold and bright,
Illuminating every step.
This path I walk is filled with light,
As evening fades with the sunset.

Golden, shining through the leaves,
Exposing all the life inside.
Windy afternoons and trees,
Anatomy of a hillside.

How brilliant the display I see
When all the earth bids me goodnight.
How brilliantly it shines on me
As all God's glory fills my sight.

in the tall grass

I've tried to write
This poem before,
The one about
The way things are
Without you.

And sometimes words
Can make you feel things,
But I'm not sure
How to sound like emptiness.

Because your absense
Has given me so many words,
But it's also taken them away-
How I have to replace
The love in "I love you"
With "miss."

We're getting lost
In the tall grass,
Towering tree trunks
Of the past.

Sometimes I hide
Behind metaphors
Instead of saying
That I'm hurt.

a forest somewhere

Some days I feel things
So violently,
But today I am serene,
Watching the world
Through a screen-
Disconnected.

It's the me that finds it
Hard to focus
And easy to laugh,
But still feels lonely.

Echoes of my soul
In a forest somewhere lately,
Far away.

It's like the breeze today,
So wonderfully smooth
And soothing,
Yet causing all the world
To burst into motion.

Dance of the trees
With their fluttering leaves-
Ideas flow so easily.

Some days I feel things
So violently,
But today is a day
When I figure out why.
Today, I sit in the forest
And write.

silence

You gave me the gift
Of silence-
Expecting nothing.

Because all the words
You draw from me
Are not enough-
Endless attempts
To communicate,
But you loved me
In the quiet.

And I listened
To the music
In the distance
Without striving
To be heard,
The pressure
To rhyme my words.

You let me be still,
Wrapped in the embrace
Of a love without noise.

This lovely peace
In not having to do
But just be.
This world
Is so much more
Than the things
We can speak.

Tucked away
In the quiet corners
Of my heart-
You took me there,
To a place
Where I'm content.
It's a poem
I don't know
How to say yet.

begin to end

How does one
Begin to end?
With waterfalls
Around the bend.

Should I be dancing
In the rain
Until the clouds
Run down the drain?

What will I do
When it stops
If I have soaked up
Every drop?

Should I gather it
In a cup
For later when
It's all used up?

Or slowly distance
From the fall,
Wait inside,
Watch from the window.

Oh, how does one
Begin to end?
Enjoy the rain
And wet and wind.

Try to make
Each moment last,
Knowing it will
Become the past.

to breathe the air

Accepting my feelings,
Softly breathing
The air of my anger,
Respiratory reason.

Sadness
Circulating through.
Delicate lace
Of lung tissue.

But everyone has
To breathe the air.
These things inside
Are things we share.

secret

I'm a secret
That no one can know.

I lie and wait,
Incomplete and afraid
To be told.

The awful way
That secrets make us
Alone.

Well,
That's what I am.

Hidden away and silent
With no one to confide in.
A secret, restless,
Longing to be known.

Impossible,
The words that sting your tongue.
That's what I am,
With your mouth closed,
Alone.

Is it lying
To be quiet?
I don't know.

I'm just a secret,
Searching for a home.

earthquake

Earthquake
Underneath me-
All around me
And within me.

But why is everyone else
Standing still?
I didn't know
That no one else could feel.

Did you even know
The earth was shaking?
I didn't think
You were so far away.

The ground is splitting,
Things are breaking.
Sometimes change
Comes with an aching.

And I don't know much
About tectonic plates,
But I wish that some things
Didn't have to change.

And I wish it wasn't
So hard to reveal.
Rainstorms are easy to see,
But earthquakes you have to feel.

apron strings

You couldn't tie a bow behind your back.
Apron strings
And other things-
The ways you make me laugh.
You make me think of what could be
And all the things I have.

Cinnamon and sugar,
Mixed with walnuts, bread, and butter-
A gooey, sticky mess I made,
But you were still my friend the same.

It can be so complicated
To be simple sometimes,
But that's the place you take me
When the strings refuse to tie.

To my mother's new green dress
And the smell of fresh-cut grass.

A dandelion puffed in white,
Blown away by our laughter here-
In the beauty of simplicity
We wander without fear.

Just to know you love me,
Even when apron strings don't meet.
Our hands are tied and sticky
But this bread will soon be sweet.

mascara

Peering through my pupils
With an iris ring around,
Mascara on my lashes
Fades away from the foreground.

These things that are so close to us
So often see straight through.
The mask I paint upon my face,
Can you see through it too?

house of my heart

There's an empty place
Inside of me,
Unfinished basement-
A dystrophy.
At the very bottom
Of my soul,
I lie in the dark
On the concrete cold.

House of my heart-
Just don't go downstairs.
Ascending aorta,
Ignoring my fears.
Step into the kitchen,
Branching lungs and deep breath.
I open the cupboards
But there's nothing left.

Stretch into the hallway-
Pulsing, pounding.
Picture frames empty,
Searching, screaming.
The walls cry out
With their terrible white,
And I see your face
In the flickering light.

Then, soft and still
I hear your name
Echo through the corridor,
Lead to your room.
At the end of the hall
Where I stuffed it away,
Bulging and twisting-
A varicose vein.

Gently push at the door
With my palm on the wood-
Vena cava to ventricle,
Find nothing good.
Deoxygenated-
Still empty inside.
Memories of you,
But my hope has died.

I close the door
And look away,
But the walls are gone,
And the scenery's changed.
Turning to bone,
Like prison bars bending,
Twisting their shape
Into a skeleton.

House of my heart
When it's all stripped away.
Single light bulb
From the ceiling will hang.
My bare basement soul
In its natural state.
Silence,
Heartbeat soon to fade.

I'll sit here inside
My lonely rib cage,
Suffocate
And waste away.
Flesh and bone
And heart of stone.
House of my heart,
This is no home.