Saturday, March 15, 2014

In the Fleeting Moments

there's beauty
in the fleeting moments;

in the minute of golden light
dancing on the sidewalk
before sunset,

in the brief sound of rustling leaves
as the breeze whips through
and whispers softly,

in the soft brush of a kiss
 under the cold light of the city night
leaving behind tingling heat;

beauty captured
in memory

Tuesday, March 11, 2014


upon my back they place
Icarus's wings and 
point out the sun;
blinded by brilliance,
I forget that there are 
stars that run through my veins
with dazzling potential
and instead follow
the others
of melting wax
to our end

Sunday, March 2, 2014


I've been told by many
that I'm an anchor,
holding people down
and keeping them
from drifting away
in sadness.
They mean it as 
a compliment,
they mean I am uplifting and supporting,
but I think they have forgotten
that anchors
are meant to be heavy,
and to do their job
they must be weighed down
with burden.