Age is a gradual steamrolling of youth.
After all
Life is a perpetual give and take with the universe.
Real funny
My life is half reality show, half Saturday morning cartoons.
Mend it, dear Henry
Flawed past is history; flawed present is opportunity.
Fusion
Sometimes we can’t let go of the pain because we think it’s the only thing holding us together.
Fluctuations
The world constantly sways me between poet and malcontent.
Pierced flight
thorns and stings
and those such things
just make stronger
our angel wings
P.S. Thank you to everyone who has written letting me know that Katya Elise Henry got a tattoo of this poem. Honestly, I didn’t know who she was and had to look it up. But that’s pretty cool, and a nice tattoo.
Alone in mid-night
Midnight — the luller
Midnight — the advisor
Midnight — the fabulist
Soiled
If organic is the natural way, shouldn’t organic produce just be called “produce” and make the pesticide-laden stuff take the burden of
Kindnesses
Small kindnesses make you a bigger person.
Inching along, leaving behind
the poet is a sensitive snail —
wandering along the path of life
leaving a glittering trail of words
Unhoard
Once you’ve whittled down to spiritual essentials, the physical decluttering comes naturally.
The chaos-harmony of life
I swing like a kid
and fall like an adult;
cry tears of gratitude
and pray in smiles;
hug and love, and later
hide under the covers—
wildly and humbly living
from dawn to the stars,
and ever back again