She is the form-fitted sheets and a comfortable mattress. She is the low hum of a ceiling fan against the backdrop of a creaky house like the calm within battles against the chaos without. She is the sweet smell of lilies, ink, and water based glue sometimes accompanied by the scent of rain. She is the perfect paper smell from my nightly three chapters in my latest bound adventure. She is the glow...

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The truth can be stranger than fiction,

When we create our own reality,

In which the lies we tell ourselves ring true.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

It’s the real world calling,

Ensure you answer fast,

You don’t want to get lost, you don’t want to feel that blast,

That comes when you see the last, shred of reality seep away,

Go on, give it a wave, you just told another lie.

Is ...

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With a flick of the wrist my journey begins,

Tipping and tumbling from palm to finger,

Chittering and chattering along with my fellows.

I am rolled and thrown; I am the decider of fates.

I have slain dragons and heroes,

Bribed thugs and courted barmaids,

Threatened thieves and solved riddles.

Three words can begin a fight.

Roll for initiative.

I spin through th...

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I would take every bronze medal,

Come second to last in every class,

If when it came to you, I hit the pedal.

If you would lay with me on the grass

And take away this dividing glass

I would take second place in every race

Be unable to win or even surpass

Be the deuce and not the ace.

Victory isn’t what I want to chase,

Winning does not mean my survival,

Being a l...

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We are the singers of salt and stone,

We are the singers of heroes unsung minding beat with our hearts

Stepping time in twine the stories we know.

We sing the songs of youth,

We sing the songs of elderly,

We sing the songs of our mentors

And pray our songs reach our students,

So that they be inspired to write,

Of Pride and Sensibility,

Or Sense and Prejudice.

We sing ...

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I found myself at that park bench at night,

Fearful and alone, no longer free.

Musing on memories in the moonlight,

Wondering if you still thought of me.

I visited that park bench in the day,

Where we sat and shared our hopes and dreams,

Where I wonder how you could walk away

And forget me; no struggle or screams.

I laid on that park bench in the rain,

A chorus...

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Odd in a poem about reading

there are no books.

Just faces and faces and faces.

All telling a lie or a story

eye to eye

cheeks like titles

brows our bible

showing gospel truths

we eat it up. Whole foods.

Faces like pages I read them all day

Sad.

Lonely.

Happy.

Hopeful.

Full of laughter. Full of pain.

Full of hope. Everything to gain.

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I was once thanked for tolerating someone-

But that wasn’t good enough.

Bleached bone is tolerated by the crow when the meat is all but gone,

The meal was good but the ivory incantation marks its end.

The sky tolerates dark clouds before the moment of precipitation,

They cover its beauty but without the rain there would be none to see it.

I was once thanked for acknowledging...

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