Hey for today

Hey for today

One day he ran
He ran very far away
Wondering if his family
Needed his stay

He should have been.

Soon, he looked back:
He heard a song
He was sitting on a stool
Holding a drink
He was singing along

He wondered why?!
He could not be there

I still see the back of you
Guiding and leading the pack
We biked miles to the beach 
We could say anything!
Any old thing—is the thing
To each other—to anybody

Anything but: Goodbye

Hopefully, we are all okay
Yesterday was quite the memory
Wishing so hard we could go back
Oh, but the pictures we have

The cement treadmill underneath us
Moments, never forgotten
Why did they turn dark and grey?

Why do the colors of life go away?

The only thing that matters for now
Is that we still say
Hey for today





Felt so great
To be alive
Dancing on tables
Reckless, but totally fine
Dreams that were planted
Grew strong in bright light
Confidently standing—
I was 25
Survival was pretty
Flowed just like water
Every little thing
Was going to be alright

If I could go back
And speak to me at 25
34 me would say:
Breathe it all in, man
Today is the day
Shake it and take it 
As much as you can
You can do anything
You’re only 25!
Just like I wanted
To say to 19 me—

When I was 25


Prayers for Mary

Prayers for Mary

5 out of 7 days
She was there
Sitting, wiggling about
Working in her chair
A total pro
Selling her web
Killing the numbers
A diner burger and coffee
Never neglected
On her lunch hour
I know nothing she said
Now, I have nothing
Only best wishes 
For Mary
She pops in my head
Here and there
Hearing the things 
She would say
The scratching of scratch-offs
Cigarette walks with the dogs
—Hers was called Trouble
Oh, I used to have fun
I know all about fun
So, she covered for me 

While I napped on a leather couch
Lucky winners we were to know her
Now, there is nothing?
I hear she is not all there
When she was always there
I do know one thing thing:
I have so many prayers
For Mary


Night of Cynthia

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Night of Cynthia

She carries pain
In a designer handbag
Minds are left bound in a trap
I hated the hatred I felt one night
Deceived by superficial beauty
Beauty of Cynthia

She cuts through guts
To her, we’re hers
She dines on
Our vulnerable meat
What a surprise
Under porcelain skin hides
A foul and gluttonous sin

Sin of Cynthia

In a pricey restaurant
Red wine dripped down

Seductive, blood red lips
With the wipe of a napkin
She stood up in black heels
She flew off and she grew

Smaller and smaller
There was no trace left

Left of Cynthia

The curse of the witch

Left my trembling hands with a wish:
To stab evil with my dinner knife 
But, I’m not like her
She’ll sleep tight—she is free

To wake up and hunt prey so naive
Check paid, I went home
Trying to forget the night
Night of Cynthia  



Google Maps to the Rescue

Somewhere in A’Dam

Earlier this week, I found myself drifting off in space. Just another one of those sudden occasions when I don’t purposely zone out but, rather, catch myself after the fact and wonder precisely how long I was away. Suffice it to say, I was not in the tiny town in which I currently reside during my respite.

Handsome buildings stand tall, lining either side of the streets, in many of my favorite cities. When I came back down to earth, I so yearned for my shoes to be frolicking down the sidewalk in one of these magical places, rather than resting on the dull carpet under my desk. The eye-catching sides of the buildings were calling my name. Louder so than usual. 

I started feeling uncomfortable and wondered how I could shake the feeling. So, I started Google searching (a common habit of mine) ways to stop missing a person, place, or thing. One of the suggestions I found was to not try to squash the feelings and to simply let them stay a while. Playing a certain song or finding the perfect station on Pandora, associated with the memories, was recommended. I took the advice. 

An idea shot in my brain — I can use Google Maps to look up a place where I would like to be and then zoom around from there. Like walking! I went to three locations in my cities. I so enjoyed meandering about, albeit digitally. Although the smells, sounds, and tastes were absent, I had the images right there in front of me. Just a click of the mouse and I was happier. 

The experience felt nice and helped me to be more in-the-moment. The walls of my room didn’t seem as painfully unlike the impressive buildings with the beautiful sides. A sadness lifted a bit. Although I can never be in more than one place at a time, there is comfort in knowing I can type in an address and at least see the places I am missing. Virtual bliss.


By the Creek

By the Creek

Finished circling the drain
He released all his pain
To the ground he’d been seeking
To be horizontal
By the creek

The flowing of the water
Tickled his pointer finger
I am not a salamander
It’s no wonder
I’m not squirming
Gonna listen to the sound—
I was here and laughing
Running, flying by
Just like time

A strike of lightning
In a darkened sky
Sudden falling of rain
He found no need for rushing
At the moment
Regardless of weather
Here was the best place
He could ever be

A beetle scurried up
His bare foot—makeshift bridge
Sought the imminent safety
Of the bottom of a rock

Quite a scene to be seen
There spread out
Upon the ground

Soaking wet, simply loving
The reflections on the stream
Head rested upon his shoulder
He lay there
By the creek