Unprompted – ‘Keeping Tradition’

I have been writing very little so far this year, but really, I can’t seem to find the time with everything right now. In a month I will be moving across the country, and my hands have literally been full with the subject of this poem. (I am determined to give my grandmother a finished afghan back, and I am half done as you can see above. I should’ve planned the colors and patterns better, honestly.)

‘Keeping Tradition’

The family afghans and quilts are made
By hand for married grandchildren.
Our grandmother, when aged well, but not
Quite well aged, use to spend months
With the monks cloth braced between
Her piercing fingers, tracing the patterns
Weeks before the needle ever dared to dart
And plant the yarn between its timid floats.

We were all suppose to get one.
In determination she bought the cloth,
And cut it before we even knew our own names.
The colors were selected with some divine
Understanding of each one of us, knowing
What we’d grow to prefer in adulthood.
At each marriage announcement she began
Weaving with pride and fearlessness.

Everyone has had one gifted to them, but me-
My family is quickly growing tired of me
Not telling them all the important things
They think they want and are willing to know.
Finally, last month my grandmother handed me
Three yards of indigo monks cloth and two needles,
She told me that once I buy my yarn to start
With a diamond pattern – the best for beginners.

If you like my writing please check out my book Moth-Like. It can be bought on Amazon here.


Unprompted – ‘A Taste of Life’

A quick post for today, I finally finished this little piece after sitting on it for over a year. Hope you enjoy!

‘A Taste of Life’

In adulthood I have learned
To love the taste of many things.
Black coffee and cold tea, both
Sitting, waiting on my desk for me.

Alcohol sweet and burning,
Greeting me as welcome its fire
In the back of my throat
After a long exhausting day full of life.

And the world, oh the world I have tasted
In all it’s seasons, phases of growth and decay.
Sweet and ripe summer, chilly crisp winter,
The clouds, the air, the sunshine all on my lips.

I have learned to love the taste of life.
With my tongue, my teeth – gorging myself
On my memories, bright candy like fragments,
And rotten, half chewed stories spanning years.

I have learned the taste of so many things,
Happiness, inspiration, disappointment, and fear.
I have tried to eat all of them at least once-
I have swallowed sadness and pride.

I’ve tasted my remorse and salty tears.
I have ate everything I have dared to eat-
Even love, but I found it was too bitter
Or maybe it was too sweet for me.

If you like my writing please check out my book Moth-Like. It can be bought on Amazon here.

NaNoWriMo – ‘Multidimensional Love’

Sorry in advance for any formatting errors! I’m having to type this on my phone as I’m traveling.


‘Multidimensional Love’

I am a creator of many worlds,
Is it incumbent upon myself that
I treat them all with love.

They are my scars, whole valleys
Baring the lives of thousands I will
Never fully know.

They are my lashes, my hair,
My nails, things that are apart of me,
Yet I am so quick to lose unknowingly.

Whole worlds die and live on my skin,
Little villages, colonies, nations,
And many more inside of me will thrive.

My fantasies are alive, multiple personalities
Branching off of a single curious whim, acted
Out in walking and sleeping dreams.

Tell me, why I cannot love them? Why should
I not love them? Them in all their horrors
And grace – them existing in me.

It’s magic, it’s witchcraft, its power in basic
Realization that I am more than me,
I am beyond a single being.



If you like my writing please check out my book Moth-Like. It can be bought on Amazon here.

NaNoWriMo – ‘All In Time’

It’s been a productive and good day, surprisingly – it wasn’t as productive as I’d like and I woke up with a migraine – but at least I got caught up on sleep. I ended up having a three day weekend at the cost of having only one day off next week. I’m also many thousand behind on word count for NaNoWriMo, but I don’t mine. I did a count and I’ve got almost 40 stand alone pieces written this month! Sadly, I haven’t been making much progress with the epic.

Today’s poem is a little lighter than usual! I hope you all enjoy!


‘All In Time’

Listen to me, I know you’re scared
Of the future and what terrible things
It holds for us, us and our unlucky lives-
But look me in the eyes, now, look at me.

My dear, it will be okay, I will be there.
The chickens may be coming home to roost
While we take off across this country,
But together we will suffer, together, unlucky.

It’s pandemonium, I know, the planning, our attempt
At planning for the unforeseen unavoidable future.
We’ve lived and will live to see worse things, Love,
The boxes are already piled at the door.

I’m ready, my Dear, I’m ready to leave
And make a new home in hell with you.
I know and understand your worries, and true,
It will be hard, it won’t be just us two.

We’ll roost, all of us, a little patchwork quilt
Of conflicting, damaged pasts and lives.
A little chaotic, off-centered family to try and forget
The blood made ones and their brash lies.

Come here, or I will come there, in time, in time.
Listen to me, it will be just fine all in time, I will
Work together with you to make your home mine.
All our little messes will come together, it’ll be alright.


If you like my writing please check out my book Moth-Like. It can be bought on Amazon here.

NaNoWriMo – ‘Bakeneko’

Today was a little stressful at work so I’m heading over to a friends house to play a pathfinder campaign. I’ve got the weekend off so with the help of caffeine I’m going to be writing late tonight when I get back.
The poem from today was inspired by one of my favorite Japanese folklore. It was also the poem I wrote yesterday and couldn’t decided if I wanted to post it. I hope you all enjoy!



She will not eat with me.
Every evening I slave alone under her gaze,
Casual comments, gentle jokes of life stretching
Between us and the various kitchen appliances.
Sometimes she’ll dance around the kitchen
Little radio playing as we dodge one another,
Laughter as she’s dances around the topic.
I know she knows. I am hesitant while she is vague.
I do all I can to keep her, bidding my time, and yet
She never stays. She will not eat with me.

She will not eat with me.
I prepare the meals, the grocery trip
Is the closest I see her to the food,
Personally. She tags along behind me
Slinking from aisle to aisle, pointing out
The frozen pizzas, the chicken nuggets,
Rows of instant noodles of fifteen flavors.
She distracts me in an attempt to crawl
Into the cart, like a large playful kitten,
But I think I know the truth.

I only have the bedroom door closing
With it’s excuses, the newest season of
A beloved series, things to read while
She eats. But all I hear beyond the door
Is silence, not a clashing or clinking of dishes,
Though the plate she brings back is always clean.
We’ve known eachother seven years,
They warned me she would eventually change.
She cannot eat with me, and I love her
At least I think, I hope, I still do.



If  you like my writing please check out my book Moth-Like. It can be bought on Amazon here.

Word of the Day – Splenetic – ‘Tuck Me In’

Classes have started back up so work is a little crazy. We got an unexpected 1,300 students for dinner alone these last three days and lets just say the cafeteria’s stock of food is running a bit low.

Today’s Word of the Day is Splenetic, as in something marked by a bad temper, malevolence, or spite.


‘Tuck Me In’

Tuck me in bed with all these
Ill formed thoughts and invisible diseases.
My heart can’t take it, I can’t
Take it – It strains me, I am tense,
A kettle steaming and pushing out huffs
Before it begins to scream.

I don’t look sick enough to act this sick,
Though you can hear my legs creak like rusty
Door hinges, a high pitched rumble and screech
Where there’s simply not enough love, apparently,
To oil them into an easy, active life.
If drink a bit more water I’ll be well.

It’s cute, I’m cute, I’ve been told
How my body breaking down under me
Is something for them to protect me from, yet
Their self-projected empathy finds it inconvenient
When they want to go out to play and my body,
My mind can’t go out and play with them.

I’m a broken playground swing, and it’s precious
The memories people imagine and re-imagine of me,
Years ago before it all started to go to hell.
I’m a child indefinitely, except when they want me to be
Something more wholesome and together and.. less sick.
So let’s tuck me in bed, again, and tell me to get well.


If you’re bored and like my writing try checking out my book Moth-Like. It can be bought on Amazon here for $8.99.

Word of the Day – Serendipity – ‘Serendipity’

I couldn’t think of a better title for this poem other than the word I jumped off to write it. Serendipity is the faculty or phenomenon of finding valuable or agreeable things not sought for.


Let’s love again for a moment or two-
Feel a little less fear, a little more ravenous.
Come out and into the rain, leave it all behind,
Again. Step off the porch, learn to not hide,
Learn to look that summer storm in the eyes.

Find a little serendipity, or if not, or if you can’t-
Let it find you with those hands shaking, heart breaking.
Find a tiny bit of bliss somewhere behind all your tears,
Tilt your head back and feel the rain drop past your ears.
I love you. I loved you. And I loved you more, once, I know.

What seems like yesterday was years ago,
You were a sweet rose tea – sweet, sweet serendipity.
I couldn’t love you enough in the past it seems,
But I could be happy if you could find happiness.
Good day. Good night. Goodbye, I pray,
Be happy and live a little more in the rain.

If you’re bored and like my writing try checking out my book Moth-Like.. It can be bought on Amazon here for $8.99. This is a piece that will be a cornerstone in my possible next book Roses.

Word of the Day – Crucible – ‘Slam Your Door’

Today’s word of the day is crucible, or a sever test. I had a little trouble naming this one, I considered naming it ‘Test of Time and Love’ but it didn’t feel quite right… I might write a poem with that title, but I feel like it would be a little lighter or maybe upbeat.


‘Slam Your Door’

I thought it was all a test
Of love, they said give it patience
And more love, I tried, but
I failed.

It was good, while it was good.
You loved words
I loved words.
We talked often enough, but
You think we would’ve talked more,
Enough to avoid this.
There should have been more songs
We could sing happily together.

But in time,
Very little time,
Just a matter of time,
Every doubt I voiced became your anger,
Every disappoint I placed turned into
Another slammed door left behind,
Left in your withering wake.

The house is breaking,
I thought it was all a test of love,
And patience. Everyone said to give it time,
So I gave all my time to waiting and worrying.
I pleaded in silence while you screamed in defiance.
This house, our home now house,
Is breaking apart around us,
The dishes are shaking from the the counters,
To the sink, on to the floor.

You refuse to meet my eyes or speak,
Declared, at some point,
We won’t talk if I can’t be civil.
I’ve become immoral because my love is weak.
Once, I spoke words in doubt towards your actions,
Shameful, I am so shameful you asserted-
Why can’t I ever simple trust
That you know what is for the best of us.

I thought it was suppose to be a test-
But I can’t give it anymore time
Or anymore of my patience and love.
You think we’d love enough to not fight
About the worthiness of my words.
I agree I am weak, forgive me, so please,
Slam your doors, Baby, this house isn’t mine.
Slam your doors, you can now brake
The house completely this time.
Just add what’s left of the dishes
To the floor.


Book Update below:

Moth-Like. (the book I’m publishing) is coming along nicely. The eBook format is almost complete and should appear on Amazon sometime next week for about $4, maybe a few cents more. The physical edition of the book might take a little longer as I have to reformat it and then order a few test prints to make sure it looks right. I’m shooting for early August and it’ll be about $6 to $8. There will be no difference between the digital and physical editions other than the typography – having flexible text is really important in eBooks, which limits a lot of what I can do.

Word of the Day – Inalienable – ‘Confession’

Today’s word of the day was inalienable, meaning incapable of being alienated, surrendered, or transferred. It took me so long to write this. I didn’t want to get political or sad, so I tried to make something beautiful, unfortuantely I feel it’s lacking… a lot. Maybe I’ll rewrite it when I’m not so tired and unfocused.


We will never be wholly apart
Except in those rare darkening of the heart
Where we tend to feel so intolerable alone,
But watch now as the sky comes together
Before your eyes, the birds perched separate
Now sing together as the earth remembers to turn.
The sun, for us, dips and drops downward,
Down and into the next town a thousand miles away
Where it peaks to give another person who lives
A world apart and yet right beside you another day.

We may never meet
And yet, I remember in my insignificance
All my wasted words, pointless laughter-
Pain experienced alone, but shown in ink.
It stains, we stain, the universes and worlds
We’ll never see but briefly in another human.
I’ll confess. I am inspired by someone who thought
They were nothing important, and still do
Because I could never raise my heart to speak
And close the distance I thought was there.

Shadow of May – Day Twenty-Three – ‘Slowly, Tenderly’

Have I ever mentioned how hard it is for me to name things? Like, I’m terrible at it most days, but today I just couldn’t decide.. But I guess this will work. Today’s Shadow of May asked: What is my hatred to my energy levels?


‘Slowly, Tenderly’

I have learned, ever so slowly
To stay tender despite the bitterness
In the many years I’ve lived and seen.
I like believe the most terrible thing I can do
Is spit in their face by refusing to be mean.

Easily, I’ve grown to live and love
All those terribly disruptive emotions
That kinder people would find so distasteful-
All that negativity, the sour and bitter things,
Such as drowning in sadness and feeling hateful.

They’re a part of life, at least half of it, surely.
Emotions so strong and uncomfortable they sit heavily
Inside of you, in your stomach or lungs, on the tongue-
I enjoy them all in my own way, contemplating how it is
That they are there, waiting, but mostly left unsung.

They are so usually unsung, except in hate-
And it’s ironic what we’ll do to those who feel
A little less than human for more than a minute.
Tenderness comes from living painfully and knowing
That we can’t expect everyone to be perfectly absolute.