To the Flower that Never Bloomed

I always think of you

That little seed, that never bloomed.

People try to relate

Wonder what it would be like

To sit there and say goodbye

To someone they never met

But loved unconditionally



Years have passed

But the history of you resonates

Every morning

Wondering what it would be like

If things were different

If he’d still be there

Or if he would have ran

Afraid of the power you hold


 But you will someday blossom

My flower

And you will make him happy

Because I know I was

when I had you in my vase




Complex and Content

Staring out the window




did one chapter flow into the next so beautifully

how chapters became strung together

like popcorn on string, where my life

was magnetized to another’s as if I was

the metal and I was just waiting by the phone

for him to stick to me.

I stare out the window

when did god ,fate ,the devil decide

that at this time I would find the treasure after years

of digging and coming up with nothing

except holes and scars.

the glistening gold against salt

gems jewels and you stare back

and I become so lucky

more then I even thought I was before


Just a little poem to start off a dreaded Monday, but hey already starting to plan next weekend and I already can’t wait :)


Doing Your Buisness

It’s something everyone has,

like a shit you just can’t get out without pushing hard.

sitting there around a porcieln   dome  your ass

staring down at the still neon blue water.

You wonder how many asses have imprinted that seat

marking its territory with its pimples and little hairs that fall out

when they pee.

You wonder what kind of diseases you would get if you sat down long enough

And waited for the parasites to feed on your inner membranes of your cheek.

But taking the risk is more comfortable

Because you feel like you’re home listening to the clock tick

Concentrating on the task at hand and relaxing reading the paper

Magazine, wishing you can move on

And continue with your life

In peace.

#1  I’m going to Alaska, you’ll see  pictures when I get back.

#2 Inspired by the Men in my Life.

#3 Grind #6

I’ll see you all in a week.


Not Knowing.

I feel your soggy eyelashes pressing

Against my face and I  stand there cold

like that January night.

You are crying because you are not sure

where to go without the fire of my hands, and I too

am not sure.


You look at me like I know the answer

that I am a calculator and I can spit out answers

I cannot.

I am a book that is unfinished

a poem without an ending

and I cannot answer my own questions

let alone yours.




I wish people weren’t so dependent on me. I’m just me.


Grind #2 : I guess this will be every other night.

Getting Back.


11:58 the clock

Ticking,moving with rhythm it beats with the strumming of keys

You force me to write but I am cautious,

Scared of what will come out

Of my fingertips


The darkness of  backspace

Regretting the thought the words

that accidently split onto the page

Like milk.

 I do not cry though because I’ve done this before

When I cried against fire and it singed me.


But Save is safe. I may go back and read

But its  solid.

Like a commitment that you hope will never go away.

But things change and I edit and change the meanings

Somehow its more of a gas now

And someday, somewhere

The meanings will float into your heart

And you will understand.



I’m doing a Grind this summer so I can write, a grind is that you write a poem everynight before a certain time to keep your creative juices flowing, at the end of every week I’ll make a post saying its the new week for the Grind and if anyone wants to join can do so. It’s a first draft only so everynight has to be a new poem. You can’t go back and edit. Once the summer is over I’m going to go back and edit but for the summer starting tonight I will be writing a poem everynight. I will be taking idea requests. So if you have a topic I should do my weekly grind on or even just for one day let me know. This time was Fear.

Please tell me what you all think.


Happy Writing!!