My poems are short Written at night In my head I wake at dawn Shake my memory
To be a true artist Must they be recluses Crazy mad or sick Or even better dead Show me a healthy artist
The human heart ...leaps and jumps ...races and sings ...sighs and groans The treacherous heart can
My grandfather told my father when he proposed to my mother on one condition
My soft spot My sweet boy I’d do anything for Who convinced me Little boys are the best
Nothing makes people flee Like reading them poetry They value it in theory But please don’t make them read Surprise me with your verse
When I think of my mom I think of malt o meal muffins When I think of my dad Memories of a child Chasing us around the circle
Why can’t I choose to be somewhere in the middle? Surrounded by extremes Measure everything With a grain of salt
I spend all my time Fighting with you In my head If we fought At least it would be
Her fingernails Natural Long Pointed On fingers
I cannot let you hold my happiness For your hand to caress or to drop It is not healthy It is not safe For your happiness to depend on an… I’m taking it back but no longer r…
I feel like crap Most days I have a lot going my way I am loved I can smile
We Are me and you Together Two hearts Two minds
Are you ever tired Of just being you? Did you ever Want to be Someone new?
I cannot divide My heart Into four pieces Equally Geometrically
