sonrise

she looked up toward the sky and it was like she didn’t know you anymore
she asked the moon, maybe some people are hard to love; maybe they were never meant to be loved at all
and the moon, in all its glistening beauty, pulled the tide. high rise
until the sun hugged the horizon, what a painfully beautiful sunrise
warm blurry rays kissed the desert
cold cacti and dry brush, lizards laying against red rock
she asked the sun the same
and the sun said, i’m a beautiful thing. but take too long to stare, and you’ll surely go blind.
she looked away and toward her feet
along the cracked cliff and soaring morning bird above
she said, maya angelou, am i the caged bird that can’t sing?
and there was no answer
only the resolute sound of a warming desert
and penniless pocket of the long walk home.

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sonrise

negative space

in the sweetest voice,
i said the most bone cold thing
like so many times, i didn’t plan it through
my honest assessment just fell loose
a response i didn’t have to think about
but seeing your reaction led to regret all the same
it was something i meant, at the time
i knew i hit a nerve though, and hurt your feelings
it wasn’t nice to say but it was true all the same.
when i think about what words you’ll take
i know those will fall ahead of what few remain.

negative space

twenty

it was good lounging around
sleeping and sighing and screwing around
blinds drawn, open close
inhale, exhale
wondrous endorphins, riding this high

it was our little world, save us from them
the oppressors, the people who didn’t -get- it
it was good hanging around
running and hiding from responsibilities
growing up, growing old
decisions i didn’t want to face
hide under the covers and procrastinate

it was hard, riding home
no call, no message, no fuck given
i sat on the greyhound, quietly crying
the whole two hour ride home

it was a memory when i was twenty
thick and heavy, sweet like honey
swimming in sin and escaping responsibility
inevitably wondering,
do you still think of me

twenty

dream

Trust is weird, comfort is dangerous, and your eyes are full
A delicate silhouette, rising and falling
I can almost trace out the second
I realized you were in love with someone
Pure wonder in a dream wasteland
The careful concave, automatic exhale
A woven story, determined to fail.

dream

Growing up

Ain’t nothing the same anymore. I can’t believe we all grew up together.
we all have certain chapters dedicated to certain people
we threw the ink on page and slashed out those who no longer served us
we felt their essence try to break through our story
bleeding through the paper, pens pressing too hard
scars that last forever, a lasting memory, abominable art
we say words we don’t mean, apologies in silence
catharsis in the needle, a world apart fighting isis
terrorism on the planet won’t grant us poetic justice.

Growing up

The Medium

I knew the medium long before it knew me
I knew its dysfunction, disrespect
Increasing control and manipulation

I knew its trials and tribulations
Fought hard against assimilation

I knew the secrets we had to share
I knew the solace in pacts
Found family in friends
Wellbeing in tact

I knew the long hours we stood
Under pointless administration
Clocking in and out timecards
Our minds hidden in salvation

I knew the ones who worked hard
Hustled out with no options
Came back on home turf
Facing nothing but morons

I knew the promises we broke
The lash out was justified
Kindness and consideration
Is what we now swear by

I knew the medium long before it knew me
If we’re so unstoppable now
Just breathe, breathe
Breathe.

The Medium

college through the lens

i see the flux
past paper and shoes
white erasers, blue packaging
alternative skaters
hold on to what’s true

a well oiled machine
or a man-made weapon
a fight against humanity
or a tragic debt strategy

they flush in like tides
swelling and receding
half distant, half smiling
on the fifty, on the half, and on the hour

the unspoken word
written in graffiti
a wise but true saying
laced like the islands of Fiji

absorb what you know
pump and dump academics
realize political gain
pump and dump integration

what you learn most
is in between the lines
a faulty version system
of hiding what it denies

this all too well known expression
that “a university is a business”
but only in the rat chase
do you realize the consequence

the world at large,
not different from you and me,
the system is rigged
beat the system and you’re free.

 

college through the lens