Monthly Archives: April 2014

Misplaced affection steals my heart
It hides in a delicate looking bush
Quaint and colorful, full of life
Red, white and green envelope my vision

As I creep closer, I am met with a fragrance
One that drives deep into my senses
A passion one cannot hope to contain
It takes me prisoner, and I hardly struggle.

The closer I get as it reels me in
I see what may be needles in the thicket
And as my hand grasps for a flower
I wince in foolish agony.

For I was mistaken at first glance
This bush hides a terror
Far outweighing its splendor
And I recoil, my hope now razed.


Have I hit the bottom of the well?

Is it time now, for a new beginning

For a new heart to swell

With love, instead of its petulant pining?


Can I now climb into the sky

Where robins chirp in gaiety

Where dreams are never too high?

Can I now rid my heart of frailty?


Is this the end of an era

Where drear thoughts roaming at sea

Now give way to a golden terra;

To beach my vessel, and set my love free?


To roam virgin lands

Which before lay beyond my reach

To plunge my feet in warm sands

Where gladly my tired toes breach.






It hits like a breath of fresh death.
Reliving days now six feet under,
rekindling memories of affection and treachery.
No escape from the blinding actions of my youth.
No longer do I fear the end,
no longer do I fear oblivion,
the nothingness that may envelope my soul as I
walk away from your overwhelming presence… after all,
you’ve got quite the reputation for doling out death-blows.
So I’ll take my chances out on that lonely road.

Sleep evades me, like the normalcy I’ve strode after

It hides in a crevasse, too deep for me to reach

The cracks swallow it whole, a natural disaster

All I can do, is get on my knees and admit defeat


Bottle after bottle, I find myself three sheets

And more to come, I’m powerless

I’m just a vessel for this demon’s  treat

The passenger returns, it’s choice is drink.

He looks on in amazement
At this woman thrust into his life.
Without choice or regret
He is torn between the light and
The dark corner he’s spent
Most of his life.

It’s happening all over again.
Boy meets girl, boy falls for girl,
Boy destroys himself trying to abstain
Boy loses himself in another
Of his darkest realms, created
In the mind that can’t know any better

He doesn’t know what is real
Or what is forged. He’s confused
It eats him alive, it tears at his soul.
He lets no one else know, he lives alone.
Yet he wants terribly to love again.
He just wants to once again, feel.

Hope is everywhere if you look for it.

It is in the green lights you get when you are late for a rendezvous.

It is a newborn baby’s cry, entering the world in a fit of confusion.

It is the seed sprouting its first tendril into the rich soil.

It lies at the bottom of a fountain resting with the desires of many.

Hope transcends in different form to all. But I find it of utmost importance to our human psyche, that we continue to hope in the eye of danger or uncertainty.

For the car you are driving may swerve uncontrollably, negating the lucky-light draw.

The babe may cease its cry due to a cause unseen by the practitioners.

The seed may soon be tainted with ghastly elements we pour into the earth.

And the coin you lay your dreams upon, may never be selected by the Gods.

We cannot allow ourselves to dwell upon those technicalities, for what will happen, will happen uncontrollably, sometimes inexplicably. But with hope, these negating possibilities needn’t bring us down. With hope, the negatives never shine through. They don’t plague our train of thought. With hope, we can simply look toward our desires and feel happy that they are even a possibility in this hectic world.

“It strikes me now that poets are great sufferers; they seem to have more than double the nervous sensitivity of the average person. They may experience exceptional joys, but their sorrows too are boundless. This being the case, it’s worth thinking twice before you become a poet.”

Natsume Soseki