New Life

For two years,
I let the words flow down my wrists,
and drip from my fingertips
to later be put into makeshift scenery.

For years I’d known
how to move forward in a life
that was only my own in my creations;
When my imagination was let loose
from the heavy lead in my soul.

In this time,
I spent many clock’s lives
learning and growing
through thick slabs of concrete
how to survive the impossible.

But in the months before now,
when I learned how to breathe
beyond the vacuum sealed soil,
it has come clear to my mind
that i do not know how to spell ‘freedom
without craving it.

I feel the pressure of struggle
was the only way to feed
a mind starving for release.

For two years,
I made these hands my only;
and now that I’ve traveled so many miles,
I’ve forgotten how to include it in this new life.

Check out my book, The Four Stages of Poetry, available on amazon!

Writing Contest; The big 800

Hello, hello, hello!

If you’ve just joined, welcome, and I hope you enjoy your stay. If you’ve been around, trust me, I recognize you with every like or comment, and I’m glad you’ve decided to stick around.

I’m happy to say, I’ve hit the big 800!

Upon hitting this goal, despite my light trickle of posts lately, I’ve decided to go and do it again!  Another writing contest 🙂

Submit your poem, prose, or short story to be featured on this blog, and a copy of my book, The Four Stages of Poetry.

The rules are simple;

In order to be eligible for this contest, I ask that you comment to let me know you have decided to participate (This allows me to check and make sure your submission is not lost in spam, etc).  Everyone is welcome, and encouraged to participate. You will then submit your piece to my contact page.

Your piece can consist of any topic or theme except;

  1. Religious views in any way
  2. Political views in any way
  3. Racist views in any way
  4. Sexist, or hardcore feminist (offensively, or negatively hating on men, etc.) in any way

You may submit up to two pieces. 

Poems and prose may be any length (within moderation of course, I will not accept novel length poems).

Short stories must not exceed 1000 words.

Contest closes October 25th.
Winner will be announced October 31st. (Happy Halloween)

Thank you so much for 800 followers, I love and appreciate all of you. Happy writing!!



Perhaps I Write For Us

They’re not for you,
but I know you’re watching.
They’re not for you,
but you soak up my words
like a sponge
thirsty for the weight of these products
I create for me.
But now that I know
you are watching
I write,
and I write,
and I write,
and I write,
hoping the tools in my palms
build something to make you
want to remain a witness
to how these pieces
link together
to create my story.

Check out my book, The Four Stages of Poetry, available on amazon!

Check out my contest, active now!


*Excerpt from the novel-in-verse I’m writing, called Raw Thoughts, can be found on wattpad*

I keep my life locked inside
the pages of a spiral notebook.

I stopped imagining what it’d
be like if I ran out of words.

If suddenly my mind became
totally blank, no more ink
confined in the walls of my
college-ruled spaced brain.

I’m quiet so my overflowing
thoughts don’t make sound.

It is a kind of noise only
paper is worthy of hearing.

Our Story

Our story’s barely begun,
but conflict is already surrounding
our character development,
the setting interfering
with our plans
for the plot sequence.
I refuse to neglect our book,
and will continue to scribble
until we write
the resolution we deserve.

Check out my book, The Four Stages of Poetry, available on amazon!


Come As You Are

I’m not sure how to feel about this one, so you guys tell me! It’s quite a bit different than how I normally write. 


Come as you are,
not the façade
the others fall for.

Come as you are,
remove the costume,
this is not a masquerade.

This is me wanting to love you.

Wanting to see you,
your fears,
your smiles,
your tears.

Come as you are,
be vulnerable,
if only for me.

Remove the shackles,
walk free of weight,
come as you are.

It’s you I want to feel,
on moonless nights,
come as you are.

This is me asking for you.

Only you,
not some,
all of you.

The world stands still,
waiting for you,
come as you are.

Come as you are.

Check out my book, The Four Stages of Poetry, now available on amazon.


My therapist was created by murdered trees,
rolled and cut into sheets, stamped with
inked lines that guide our conversations.

He wields a metal spine, curled tight,
wrapped around my thoughts in attempt
to hold our sessions in one place.

I create my therapy sessions with plastic
tubes around thin sticks of led, topped
with a rubber mistakes eraser.

We make appointments daily, accumulating
emotions, finding their meanings, and the
outcome always seems to be poetry.