Tuesday, March 31, 2015

This I regret

I guess it's too late to live on a boat,
to discuss the advantages,
or think of the possibilities.

Had we left when it was first an idea,
when we started to understand maps,
when there was a North.

Had we left behind our fears,
been taught detachment,
learned the seas from pirates

in our childhood books.

Monday, March 30, 2015

NaPoWriMo - 2015

It's almost April again and this is my public commitment to 30/30.

I'll be selecting favorite prompts of the day to write from the following websites offering prompts throughout the month of April, which means I'll be writing more than a poem a day!

Imaginary Garden With Real Toads
Writer's Digest PAD Challenge
A to Z challenge
30 Day Poetry Challenge
The dirty thirty
Writers Victoria
Apparatus Magazine
Cuyahoga County Public Library

"Let the wild rumpus start!"

Thursday, March 26, 2015

Won't haves

I want the world to be whole again.
I want things to be found on their
original places, glued to the ground
thanks to gravity, floating bodies
to be left for the outer space.

I want to raise a child to made-up
music and stories, to cloud watching
and sugar apple because life can turn
bitter, sweet memories aren't that
widespread these days.

I want January back, your invisible
hand on my chest, your laughter,
your heart, some rain. I want to
carry you home, and ease all of your
pain. I want to ease all the pain.


For years to come I would wish
I could have done something
other than sit and watch
everything precious to me die.
Then again I am reminded
this is how all living things end.

Tuesday, March 17, 2015

Un long dimanche de fiançailles

 Un long dimanche de fiançailles, 2014 directed by Jean-Pierre Jeneut, 
adapted from an eponymous book written by Sebastien Japrisot

Sunday, March 15, 2015

Sunday ends

I lie in bed in savasana
for not everyone can be a starfish.

The untrained circus monkey mind
swings from one thought to the next.

New ink

Courage, dear heart. - C.S. Lewis 

Saturday, March 14, 2015


"The sky in March is
as beautiful as I remember
it by your side
and I love you"

- he says.

And he means it.
The way I did once,
watching him disappear behind clouds,
my heart bleeding off altitude.

Wednesday, March 11, 2015

Kensi 'n' Tom - Peace then pieces

Listen to the full EP by clicking here

:: Thirty-three and one third - TB

33 1/3 revolutions per minute,
In his home,
Listening to, thinking about
Dylan’s Revolution in the air.

70 heartbeats per minute,
Rising to 100,
Reading through, thinking about
Injustice, violence and suffering.

10 blinks per minute,
71 by the President,
Informing and then telling
Everything is going be OK.

4000 steps per day,
Rising to 10,000
Walking over, then resting on
Old ground.

:: War footage - KC

It's beyond late
when in a dream
I get war footage of
your neighborhood's
exploding buildings and
smoky streets,
I am mad at you already
for not keeping your promise.

All of a sudden
you come into the picture
dressed in your
stepmotherland's colors,
trying to make your way
through the crowd.

A tall man blocks your
passage, whispers
something in your ear
and kisses your cheeks
before you disappear.

In the e-mail you say
you've been thinking about
leaving the city and that, maybe,
we should consider working
for the Ringling Brothers,
now they are ending their
elephant acts.

You could be a fire eater,
I could be a lion tamer,
or we could both be
smartly funny clowns.
I wake up crying
for it's beyond late.

Wednesday, March 4, 2015


Come on a Sunday
to challenge the house noises
and hide me in your chest,
let's read each other's eyes, 
let's waltz in our private silence.
Calm down the death of roads
that can only lead to 
burning desires,
spell togetherness in 
imaginary languages.
Prepare me for uncertainty,
for the prevalence
of the ephemeral,
for letting go of
the memories we are making,
of the taste of existing around you
that will linger in my mouth
if we ever part.

Monday, March 2, 2015


Growing up I had a
jewelry box where
I kept a collection of
stones instead of pearls.
I can only begin to explain
why I save your sounds.

Sunday, March 1, 2015


To make peace with myself.


Your discomfort with my words
imposes me a pattern:

I must not speak of love
I must not say your name
I must not tell my wishes
all in the same poem.

This has to be the
most hurtful of constraints.