Composed: 1/10/14
Description: I am increasingly coming to find that, when I am with people, I am extremely auditory.  I listen.  But visually? One of my greatest weaknesses is inattention.

My blindness is not black
It’s a cross-eyed blur
I’m lost in the sounds
And in the maze of my mind
I hear
And forget to see
Forget reality
And then again I fall behind
I’m awake just



Composed 1/10/14
Description: n/a

I see others succeed
And I think
That could have been me
If I tried

But I didn’t

It’s too late now
Or did it even matter?

I don’t care
But was that first
Or a shield
To guard my pride?

It’s a Compliment, Really

Composed 1/6/14
Description: In response to today’s Daily Prompt Simply the Best, which asked: “When and where do you do your best thinking?”

For me, my best thinking is actually done when I am WITH people. People — what they do, what they say — kick my thought processes into gear. Oftentimes, it later (or quickly) emerges as a story or poem; other times, it just gives me something to chew on for awhile. Thus the necessity for a notebook or phone to make notes on at any given moment.  However, I realize this is also a bad habit, because it often seems like I’m not paying attention…

Please don’t be offended
When I glance away
And carefully note the space above your shoulder

Please don’t be offended
When my eyes cross
And my replies are monotone murmurs

Please don’t be offended
When I whisk out a pen
Or my phone to type

Please don’t be offended
You’ve inspired me
And I focus on things I like

Winter Blessings

Composed 1/5/14
Description: In response to today’s Daily Prompt Happy Happy Joy Joy, in which we are to describe what happiness is to us. Well, right now, as snow falls thickly and quickly from the sky, I am reminded of how HAPPY this kind of weather makes me. Really. Even when I look back to one of my happiest dreams, snow is a prominent feature. And, in almost all my happiest poetry, if it’s not snow being featured, it’s nature.

Let the clouds rain down from heaven
And sugarcoat our dusty trees with blessings
So they glisten brightly, fresh, anew
And cling like front porch chimes
More beautiful than their first spring

Let thick whipped frosting
Mask the sour twinge of our mistakes
The trash, the dirt, the grime of our lives
So we can remember
That once dull scenery can change
And grandly

Let us build up wonders with heaven’s gorgeous rain
And cool our hot hands, hot heads
With pure white
And rush back to our lives and melt
Remember what it’s like
To really feel warmth

Stubbornly Cold

Composed 1/3/14
Description: I think I’m going to try and write more poetry this year — and more poems about the daily events of my life. Stuff that I can look at ten years from now and go “ah, yes, I remember that person, that feeling, that day.” Everything from fun nights with friends to whatever I’m thinking that particular day. So I wrote something this evening, and I think it says a lot about me.

I sit on the floor
Stuffed in two blankets
And a hat
I refuse to move
From my solitary haven
Even when its
Covered in ice


Composed 11/??/13
Description: The hazard of writing poems in your phone is that, often, the date gets lost… Anyway, a poem regarding a situation a friend was involved in awhile back.

He thinks not with the
Sensitivity of your heart
But the need to survive
And you are the air
To his writhing lungs
He only sees in red
And your necessity stems back to the ancients
And thus
He will fight to the death

In the Shadows

Composed 1/1/14
Description: A rather unhappy start to the new year, I’ll admit, but I can’t deny these thoughts have been on my mind lately – and in reference to many of my friendships.  I will be interested to see if/how things change by next January first.

A merry thought turns quickly sober
When I realize how limited my joy must be
Even frequent, silly communications
Cease abruptly
When another enters and whisks them away
With talk of destiny, of everlasting
And yet I neglect them
As if their future is guaranteed
And my own fate dims and idles
In a horizon without a silhouette
Yet I must blame myself and not the gods
For this solitude is my own choosing
But how much easier it would be to stand behind someone
If I was not always second