Posted in Poems

Flight Abroad

In dreaming, it’s children who escape to Neverland. But wherever do adults go, attempting flight abroad? Their parents gone, nothing left saying what occurrences not befall. The only thing missing is forever youth accompanied by psychopath, Peter Pan. He’s cocky and controlling, he captures lost children. He’s taking them away from adults and parents. “In Neverland,” he pronounces, “It’s better, it’s safer. No adults domineer.” But unsatisfied he becomes, and thusly he “thins them out.” The wording (of course) is open to interpretation, but either Pan performs the killing, or delivers the Lost Boys to Tiger Lily, the Mermaids, a fairy, or Captain Hook.

See, fairies are another dark cloaked in purity. They cannot be virtuous and evil in conjunction; a selection must occur, since only one is allowed. Tink, fueled by jealousy, had become bad herself. She endeavoured to murder the newly come mother; but stifling Tink’s plotting, an acorn (a kiss) prevented the arrow from piercing the bird’s heart. And despite the events that transpired, the children still believed. They continued to escape to Neverland in youthful minds and learned the mysteries of flying.

But wherever do adults go, attempting flight abroad? Nights haunted with restlessness of tragedies; they project them onto backs of closed eyelids. Do sleepless nights happen in Neverland? Or perhaps they’re erased for children with wandering minds of trouble? In therapy, there’s hypnotization for forgetting—Is stepping in other worlds like going under? Now adulthood has taken us, finding our parents, who Peter Pan despises most, departed. We’ve become old enough for hatred (in both directions it proceeds); death wished by Pan until his countenance goes angry and blueish.

Then, without spite (rather with selfishness of children), the occasion will approach when Peter Pan wishes to capture your children; by convincing them lurking in evil are parents and adults: ones saying “no,” never to allow fun for anyone. So secure the windows at nighttime, keep candles, and convey to children that knowledge of flying in Neverland means breaking free may never come; because in imagination, a danger of consumption is lurking.

And while children are lurking, the adults fight battles with haunting nights, and forget how flight abroad is attained. They wonder if Neverland has resemblance of hallucination, if everything might become more understood when journeyed on mental lam, partaking quests of vision. Or perchance a hallucination what happened to the Lost Boys: they never dreamt so concurrently, they simply found peyote in unison.

Posted in Poems


Radiation, Mutation

Deoxyribonucleic acid
The name sounds more dangerous
Than the Sun’s ultraviolet rays

But you let them in
And they changed you
Changed you at the cellular level

Genetic instructions didn’t serve you
So you sought change to suit you
And the change you got multiplied

Growth beyond your control
A hostile takeover
That you invited in


Posted in Poems


Fighting for air
But none are here to listen
A room full of flare
Things are aglisten

Tarnishing from the inside
A collection of dust and mold
To take in and abide
And embrace all the old

Reject the gut’s compass
Just try to keep it down
Survive by drinking piss
Never wear a frown

Choking on pride
Not the only plight
Hide, don’t show that you’ve cried
Your eyes will never be dried


Posted in Poems

What Was It?

I dropped it in the water by the dock
I didn’t know how deep it was
And, though it seemed pointless,
I dove down and felt through the muddy bottom

I didn’t count the time
But when I shot to the top
I was gulping for air

I pulled myself up
And lay on the dock
In disbelief I’d actually found it

I felt something else while I was down there
But it was pitch dark and I couldn’t see
I could only feel

Its smoothness intrigued me
But though I was curious, I left it
And took back to the top what I came for


Posted in Poems

Winter Treasures

When the trees no longer whisper
Squirrels turn up past treasures
Storages they’d forgotten
Their excitement like finding a twenty dollar bill in last winter’s coat pocket

Stories they’d forgotten
Roused by the sharp winter air
Shared over squirrel’s wassail
Next to the warm winter hearth burning cozily within their trees

Where summer divided their ways
The cold pulled them closer together
As they sat arm in arm
Telling of their year’s adventures

One squirrel sat idly by the fire
Looking for the answers in her flames
He grew colder and lonelier
As the laughter rose around him

And as it turned to embers
And he remained the last in the room
He found peace in the solitude
And repose in the quiet


Posted in Poems

The Wind

Voices dripping with whisper
As silent airs breath in
Capturing the secrets
From the walls within

Troubled are the gusts
A rheum shaking even quiet lungs
While wisps travel
Over empty souls

And passion ships sink
When filled with heavy burdens
Led by kings
Whose men die for a stranger

So let the wind
Carry the thoughts
For they are lost
On those who do no speak


Posted in Poems


Misery earned
Merriment learned
Hiding behind blame
Feigning the game

Projection of fault
Squalor the result
Guilt will consume
Every empty room

Fill the house
With faking about
Putrid memories
That no one else sees

And in that place
Lurks death’s face
With rancid breath
And a face of meth

Still the sweetest kiss
To release what’s amiss
And spare the rest
Of such burdensome mess


Posted in Poems

Passion Flower


Didn’t make it
Through the winter
Still can’t
Remove the splinter
Just seen
Beneath the surface

Shone brightly
In the summer
Teeth reveal
The number
Of times
The faces smiled
Her open fire

Then voices
Became whispers
No sight
Of either dipper
On clouded
Starless nights
The best advice

Palsied seeds
Of despair
Stale petals
Once purple flare
But now forget
For she is gone
No revival
Just in a song

Posted in Poems

Lover’s Leap

It’ll be like a dream
Always falling
Through the seam
To an endless reality

We’ll wake up
When we hit the bottom
Filled with regret
In a place that’s rotten

People will be there
But they’re not friends
Taking pictures
Of how we came to our ends

The sign will mark
How we met our fate
At Natural Bridge Park
On our last date

Photo by Aaron Coriell

Posted in Poems


A peg in the heart
Driven further and further
Deeper over time
Tap, tap, tap

A drip in the faucet
A creak in the floor
Louder over time
Tap, tap, tap

A tear in the wallpaper
A leak in the sink
Angrier over time
Tap, tap, tap

A dog in a cage
A man on the run
Harder over time
Tap, tap, tap

A dimming light
A waning moon
Darker over time
Tap, tap, tap