Summer Heat

In the heat of the summer solstice I am reminded of something –

You could even say it’s someone.

There is just something about the warm nights –

Young and old people don’t sleep early, they stay up late, allowing their imaginations to play with their fantasies.

I can visualize you. I can visualize the future.

In the middle of the night hunched over the table, a single bead of sweat will drop onto my journal.

The page wears it like a badge of courage.

It could be a tear to the untrained eye, they will be stuck wondering if it was for happiness or for pain.

It was neither,

It was both,

It was something I long for.


In Between

There is a battle within-

I like to believe that it is not just me but I cannot be certain –

I am trapped within the uncertainty of it all.

My imagination absorbs me whenever my focus falters.

To live in fantasy is dangerous –

To live in reality is deadly –

Where is my place?



I could dance around in metaphors but I want to give you the truth, not the power to interpret.

I thought about hypnotizing you with imagery and illusion but it can’t be hidden with beautiful pictures.

Dancing around with language isn’t doing anything but confusing the situation.

Do you see it now?

It must be clear,

I can’t live without you.

Poem 7.1.15 (2)

Words can capture the essence but they don’t bring about understanding.

I keep thinking, it’s the definition of insanity.

I can’t help it, there’s a bit of crazy in these genes.

Maybe tomorrow,

Maybe never.

I’ll pick up the pen anyways to try and explain all the things you do to me.

After I figure it out,

I’ll teach you how to read.

Waiting For Sunset


I am frustrated by myself and with myself.

There seems to be no end in sight as if the sun refuses to set behinds the westward mountains.

Nature will and can only act according to its own decrees.

And yet I will find myself wanting to force change.

To wait, to be patient, to understand is the one risk which cannot guarantee reward.

To act foolishly is to get burnt.

The Waiting Month


When you get right down to it there isn’t really much redeemable about February.

Yes there is a day of love.

It is also the shortest month but for me,

for me it takes the longest.

There is no hidden anticipation.

All is doom, gloom and the farthest thing from bloom.

No hope yet.

Just passing time as I patiently wait for the promise of renewal in

spring- in March.