Sunday, September 9, 2012


they say

they say love is the
most powerful thing.
oh
how i want to agree
the reassurance of your voice
you 
and your reasons of being so analytical.
they say
i however,
speak through
a pain 
resting on my chest,
yes the chest, it pains me.
they say
when i cried on the phone 
and i secretly
oh so dreadfully
hoped that
you felt a sliver in your chest too.
they say
when you said with
such concern "i'm sorry, there is
nothing more i could say"
they say
and, feeling adrift
alone
a chill, there was nothing more i could say.
they say love is
the most powerful thing.
oh 
how i want to agree

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

dipictions on a bus travel 2010

bus stop, morning.
i purposly
sit on the bus stop early-
music
air
passing cars and gasoline
scent trails from two corner stores
two blocks away
a woman walks forth-
older, late 50's
thick jet hair
she smells of lilys, roses-
as if she rolled in
a bed of flowers 
she sits
arms crossed,
mind lost following the
passing cars.

Monday, July 9, 2012

many years a january day






sadden gatherings
stakes from the ground
you are a lingering
thread
building frantically 
without breath
darkness came from
your tongue
manage to stay but  keep
your own.

maybe you are

maybe you are
my stomach
eating me whole
blacker blacker
what i share
what do i keep
where are all the strangers to see

discriptions on a bus travel 09

crusted fingertips
clumped hair 
the dirt taste in my mouth. 
move less, 
move less. 
sounds of laughter and
bus exhausts
my head swells
8:30 am