Giggles bubble and bounce,
In time with my heart’s pulsing beat,
And the sound echoes from wall to wall,
Like a smile in search of a treat.

Beware the laughter’s pounce,
The toddler seeks to catch you unaware,
And, like an egg, have you fall, you will fall,
But in the joy you will not care.

Contagious chortles will trounce,
All plans for the day laid to waste in a pile,
Of toys, and at least one ball, there’s always a ball,
And the chaos will hit eleven on the dial.

Prepare to give away every ounce,
And then even more, of your time and energy,
When the child starts to call and call,
For all that endless playful reverie.


There is a monster in my head,
That cannot be killed by bullets of led,
And needs always, craving, to be fed,
So be careful how close you tread,
Or you’ll find yourself

Dare I speak the truths of my heart?
Can I disclose the darkest parts?
In search of the bottom I did start,
But have yet to reach the inverse apex of my art,
In the depths my morals fly

As another brittle day dawns,
We are nothing but wooden pawns,
Despite the illusion of our bygones,
Our future is solid, set in bronze,
And death is our final

Jagged hands puncture and rip,
They wiggle and squirm for grip,
To procure a different end to this trip,
No matter how my soul may crack and chip,
And thoughts, like saliva, must

Dare I speak of the emptiness of being dead?
The monster that is my thoughts flies apart.
We are beholden to the immortal on the corner, our john.
Our existence slips through the cracks with a drip, drip, drip…

why listen to me


Why must you baa, when the world needs more who roar?
Why are you so content to blindly follow the talking heads,
When they care only about filling their wallets more and more?
Why do you trust, when you should question everything said?
Why do you judge those who do take the time to research and think,
When they need to learn more than how well a politician can wink?

Why are you lazy, when the world demands your participation?
Why are you happy to let rules strip away your shrinking freedoms,
When you should be voicing opinions and ensuring accountable action?
Why do you hide, when you don’t agree with mainstream idioms?
Why do you play ignorant and pretend like you don’t know, don’t care,
When part of you does and knows these issues are deeper than who you wear,
Or how you style your hair,
Or the latest internet dare,
Or the newest treat at the fair?

Why listen to me, when I’m just another baseless, faceless voice?
Why put any trust in the words I’m spilling across this page for you to see,
When my truths, not necessarily the same as yours, don’t sound nice?
Why read my stories at all, when I don’t know any more than you how to be?
Why don’t you open your eyes and look around you, study, take it all in,
When you’ve done that, then, perhaps you’ll see there are none without sin.

The Arrow Of Hypocrisy

The crush is back with a vengeance.
It originates in the brain and travels to the heart where not so gentle hands squeeze with the intent of creating unbearable pain.


My walls are at an unprecedented high.
I grind my teeth, clench my jaw and still manage to scream “Why?”

But I know.

Climbers of my walls are nearing the top.
When will they stop?
When will they fall?

With one, we have shared our trips
to Hell and back.
His eyes filled with sorrow and mine with tears.

I expected to hear the splash of him falling into my moat of tears, but he didn’t.
I never expected he’d stay through the years, but he did.

He’s saved my life without even trying.
Without even knowing, he’s kept me from dying.

I will never tell him.

With the other I hold my own
and trust;
I must.

I still wait for the splash.

I think about those
who have fallen
under the weight
of their lies,
drowning the sounds
from their cries.

Important is such an arbitrary term.

Occasionally, I give in to anger.
I draw the arrow with the same name from my quiver.
Through the peep-hole I aim with bulls-eye precision, and take pride in my decision.

To my surprise, this time, the arrow missed.
It boomeranged and loudly hissed its way back to me.
Before it punctures my pupil with bulls-eye precision, I see its name has changed to Hypocrisy.

The crush grins with delight as I writhe in agony from the smite.

Then I calm and realize.
Who am I to criticize if they intentionally or inadvertently pulverize my hurts?
It isn’t my place to put verdicts into vials
and to judge
without knowing
their trials.

I’ve made my own
climbs and falls.
I’ve scaled the heights
of others’ walls.

I’ve turned my back
in their times of need.
I’ve fallen into their moats
and began to proceed my climb.

Their walls are higher now.

As I apologize,
tears roll down my face.

I don’t expect to receive a response.

Image Credit: Unknown

and rage

Image Credit: Huffington Post

Coo sweetness and love to the toddler,
Strapped so carefully into his seat,
And rage,
Against the driver,
Who dared to share your street.

Our hypocrisy is plain for all to see,
While on the painted blacktop,
And rage,
But then, casually,
Sing lullabies until the next stop.

So look in your rearview next time,
And see your eyes there,
And rage,
At your own crime,
Then relax and set aside your cares.