Posted in [poetry]

on the bad days [poem]

I pretend my way through every interaction
working my smile through muscle memory alone
each laugh feels like an echo
of the poorly recorded laugh track
from an old school sitcom
I struggle with small talk
as if I’ve forgotten the English language
leaving me to ask people to repeat themselves
almost every time they speak
I jerk myself out of thought spirals
the moment they start
but it still feels like I’m swirling down the drain
maybe the sewers are where I belong

Posted in [poetry]

a dragon’s hoard [poem]

when people break your trust you have a choice
become hard or become cautious
hard means you’re safe in your castle
an untouched treasure in the depths of the dungeon
cautious means you’re vigilant
eyes tracking every flicker and flinch around you
the closer they get
the tighter you’re wound
trust is a commodity worth hoarding
so when I say I trust you Love
I’m telling you that your presence makes me unwind
a subconscious reaction
to the safety you’ve come to represent

Posted in [poetry]

Hestia [poem]

the thrones came with our victory
after the wild titans fell to Zeus’ lightning
and proud Athena’s shield
I didn’t play much of a role in the war
my duty is to the Eternal Flame
without which none of us could exist
mortal and god equally reliant on its sacred fire
it was Dionysus who finally noticed
how I avoided my seat among my siblings
how I left to tend the nearest hearth as an excuse
how I never wanted power in the first place
only purpose
he took my place amongst them
no selfless act but a kindness just the same
Dionysus gained validation amongst his kin
I gained freedom from their constant web of games
even after all these centuries
after temples grew silent and sacrifices grew scarce
somehow the Eternal Flame still burns
I guess my efforts haven’t been in vain
perhaps that is why
even the gods themselves pay homage to me
first and last in all proceedings
for I have kept the fire
when all else has faded to ash
and memory

Posted in [poetry]

a list of things I’m thankful for [poem]

1 – I live up here in Washington
and it’s cold and wet
and perfect
2 – I have several books to my name
hundreds of poems etched into being
and time to write the words
beating through my body
with every pulse
3 – I still know how to love
even after the hurt and the hollowed out dreams
I turned them all into terracotta pots
and planted my new hopes there
4 – I live up here in Washington
with its green and grey
and beautiful

Posted in [poetry]

everything is temporary [poem]

your breath presses slowly into soapy water
a sphere of iridescent growth
until the bubble pops

droplets fall against your car windows
as the cold air condenses clouds into raindrops
until they become too insubstantial
to condense any further

a baby’s first breath is a miracle
and each day after a gift
until the last miracle is exhaled
into stillness
at death