Majula | Field Writing
That orange blast of sun on the horizon, the twinkling of piano keys, the woman clad in green; she utters of hopeful well-wishing and punctuates with a message of fatal possibility. “…lest this land swallow you whole.” I remember the first time I saw Majula. It was close to what seeing these Missouri skies was […]
Seasons | Poem
[I. The Force That Tugs] Steadfast. Resolute. Definite. Unyielding. These concepts hint at the story our minds have grown tired of hiding, holding, wielding. Steady hands paint constant strokes against the parchment of my heart. Ink stains reveal transparency. One can’t exist alone. You cannot avoid being affected. I see it as such: Visions of […]
With Hands//To Work|Poem
I see the works of artistsThe aftermath of deft hands getting to work I see the afterimage of the calculated strokesWhere effort and skill bear tangible and virtuous fruits I look to what they’ve done and see what I myself would also like to do To do something good with these hands of mine To […]
The Shoreline | Poem
Another home… Another seat of temporary comfort. Another place where the wounded nomad can rest before moving on. Because the nomad always moves on. This is because only through the pathless region can one meet the face of God. And when the nomad sees their reflection they’ll realize that the things that they sought were […]
The Fret, The Hurry, The Stir | Poem
What it means to become a someone In a place where there sits nothing I may never know What it means to be called somethingIn a world where names mean nothingI may never holdThat answer, no Like the endings of a barren pageSitting worn as if they’ve been read a thousand timesI start to fade They’re flowing out […]
Starving | Poem
TOLERANCE|INTOLERANCE Black soul Black faceBlack race Black mindBlack ideologyNo trace Cries from heaven so loud they can Deafen the pain of the politically oppressed Black eyesBlack handsBlack shapes Figures that contort and writheBodies that have been erased Non-consensual eliminationOf kids, woman, and man And the very same of those who the world fears to understand Who […]
Thus Spoke the Shape-Shifter | Poem
I. [Meaning]Thus spoke the man whose wilted words have shaped an age of truthThus spoke the man whose oldest thoughts have shifted my point of viewThus spoke the man who’s found a way to shatter what I think of you Thus spoke the man whose deft, old hands have whittled me down to boneThus spoke the […]
On the Turning Away | Poem
I.There’s something in the mellow that clouds my better judgement There’s something in the mellow that slows my inner workings The cogs just aren’t oiled enough I think I’m working well enough But time comes down to performance And I can’t perform II.OhThinking about all the artists I wish I could be like…I think of […]
Wayward | Folk 