I don’t know this room,
Gravitron spinning.
I’ve never walked these floors,
pirate-ship rocking.

The faces looking back at me,
whimsical and free,
are not yours.

If they could read
my over dramatized
silent film heart,
they’d scatter its pieces
to the four corners
as punishment.

Because life rarely affords
Kodak moment fairy tails,
and besides,
I’m no knight in shining armor,
and baby… you’re no princess.

but I could love you true,
and I could love you absolute.

If that’s…


She invades my every notion
like a conquering force
stealing my ability to
articulate any single
cohesive thought.

Her voice lurks behind
every corner of my mind,
the loveliest fucking woman I know.

Her words drip
from technological advances
and linger like whispers in the ear.
I speak in semicolon pauses
whet with angst.

She’s a little sprite,
who fairy flutters my heart
with her fresh cut
lime and honeydew aroma,
reducing me to 9th grade poetry
and adolescent fear.

So I turn inward,
carrying myself to the river
that’s never failed
to quench a creative thirst.
I wade knee-deep into the
black and white.
But she’s beat me there
by a country mile.
Her laughter echoes
through the forest trees,
amplifying and projecting color
throughout my inner peace.
It’s a strange brew of pure magic
and uncensored truth.

I want to drink of her
until she’s a part of me.

A Sailor Went to Sea

Art by: Graham Grecken

I know it’s not easy being alone.
Your little girl heart hopscotching solo,
trying to gather her scattered pieces
from the compartments you’ve made.

You’re muddled with self-doubt,
and a constant nagging voice,
comfort-nestled in the back of your mind,
whispering: this is my fault,
at least he loves me in his own way.

Temptation to return may be too great,
when he finally drops to bended knee.
So you will go back to him and
time will swell like water in a lock,
unfurling its complacency
beneath the surface of your seasons.
Why can you not see?
He’ll always be your sailor at sea,
never fully loving you
through his own duplicity.

But I know your beacon.
The one you no longer see.
It shines bright
along the shoreline
of my surrender.