#9: Hana Yori Dango 花より団子

I dream then drool then chew to eat
You dream then drool then see to eat
But who’s to say my method is right?
And why would yours be better than mine?

You and I are full and satisfied
But you and I are subdivided
And you and I have appreciation
But you and I have different opinions!

I may have a palette to cleanse
But we both have an itch that meets no end
You may have tangible evidence
But we also have no precedence

I taste notes, ratios, proportions, consistentcy
You taste color, dimension, proportion, calligraphy
I see potential, improvement, advancement, a name
You see aperture, focus, spotlight, a frame

But through all the wonder and debate and fame
We both write history our audience craves
And in the process you and I have self proclaimed
That you and I are one of the same.


#8: the Intangible


What it would be like

…to transform a flame into wildfire igniting each blood vessel with desire

…to roam the earth by wind and bring two bodies together

…to dance with the sun to a song of silence in darkness forever and ever

…to be born into a moment and conquer the mind only to die a moment later by another

#6: Turmoil


Facial Tissue

Turmoil within locked in a box

boils then simmers then boils the

oil the toxic hate that warps the

coil around your neck and

soils the love you had for yourself

spoils the “love” you now give to yourself so you

recoil from the love that’s given to you

thinking it’s just as toxic as the living, breathing resentment inside you.

Forgiveness is the key to unlock that box

but you’ve buried that key six feet under your house.

Free yourself from yourself.

#5: For you, Nina.

The day breaks with birds flyin high
Still sitting on the floor
Foil in hand from previous nights
And then
I hear her, I feel her
Running through my veins
Like a river
Running free
Her voice flowers the color of acoustics
Breeds half notes and whole ones
With fervor into music
The fire
Firing power and desire
I set foot
On the keys of the piano
While she spits her scats
With aim and precision
Freedom is yours and mine Nina,
You know how I feel.

#4: The End

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She trots across the room

with baby blue jeans and pink shoes

with bulbous brown eyes she looks up at you

with glossy lips from spoonfuls of squash

you feed her, I see it now, her lusc-

-ious kisses stain you with blush

a never ending warmth

like the first sip of tea or broth

or the first sunrise to welcome the new month

and with every sunrise, the sun sets

day after day it rests

to remind me it’s

the end

her trots

my thoughts

her gloss-

-y lips that can’t talk

her pudgy legs that won’t walk

all for reasons I cannot

comprehend or begin to explain

the anger, the rage, the frustration, the pain

it boils, it emulsifies, it defiles, it reverberates

throughout the empty, dark corners of me.

We never met you but we love you, our sweet honey bee.

#1: Ode to Hypnos


Your silent spell, she slithers over the moon,

Through the crisp cold mist that I breathe,

And she obeys your every command and tune,

So I may drink from the river of Lethe.

May I ask you, son of Nyx and Erebus,

Is your spell in fact, Pasithea, your wife?

From your grotto of no light or sound beneath us,

Is it true that you own half my life?

She finds me to peek through my pane of glass

And with grace like your twin brother himself,

She swiftly slips under the cracks,

And hovers over me like an angel of death.

I feel her crawl up my spine and around my neck,

To pierce my skull and mind,

And like your father’s body and soul, unkept,

Gushing liquid darkness and slime.

Hallucinating a world unknown,

With Persephone and poppies underground,

I see you, dignified and majestic in your ebony throne,

Next to the river where your subjects have drowned

Only to rise in a new life, reincarnated,

Oblivious to their unworthy past,

I find myself captivated, liberated, and naked

In your presence, I’m home at last.