the inaugural unfurling

of cloud-wrung fancy

breathes fresh air into

stale crevices

pockets new askew

add unexpected edges

where before were only curves

dogeared shames + satisfactions

formerly core buried beneath

a socially acceptable surface

now updug + exposed

is it for you

the primal glint of gold

or the lush musk of sex

the clipped courtesy of separation

the romantic savagery of wildfire

the stealthy intimacy of influence

the puissant demand for more

if i were to plunge

into a cave of wild abandon

populated only by your dreams

what would i find?




what makes us

a success?

do you measure

your life accomplishments

in milestones



or dollars?

not like the fabled

bone stone conquerors of old

claiming tracks of terra

+ pinning them to a name

–today’s territories

are measured in

bills, bears + bulls–

but a true, honest winner,

a champion of life.


if i extend a hand

+ find another

reaching back

then i am whole

i am one of we

+ nothing can break me


The fray does not acknowledge me

But spirals on, unassuming.

Funny, how our private tragedies,


that plunge us even further

through a miraged rock bottom,

are invisible to everyone else.

There is no crossing guard

proclaiming a firm neon ‘stop’

against the aggressive brute force

of an unhumdrum daily life.

Nobody to shout that I just need some air

a beat, a breath, relief.

To the world, I am a number.

Doctors, reps, CEOs, policymakers & power players

–whatever they call themselves–

all see us the same way.

they have already decided all that

I am

we are

and all that we can give


it’s time for us to turn ‘I’ to ‘we’ again

turn patches of hell

into pockets of haven

and prove them wrong.

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.