Wednesday, December 30, 2020

 grief tearing down these walls

*Published by Cold Moon Journal on 12/29/20
 a whisper
from Old Scratch
nuclear winter

*Published by horror senryu journal on 12/30/20

Tuesday, December 29, 2020

 gifts of grief

all colors are pastel
and jellyfish float

in a violet sky
the radio plays Brian

Eno along with
the comforting symphony

of crickets
the mall has always

been dirt-free
the daily news

is a loop of fresh lavender
 but there are no stars

& moon
no Kubrick

or Agatha Christie
in the hum of okay

fine thanks
you forget that you

are a flame who 
can birth suns

*Published by Rejection Letters on 12/29/20

Monday, December 28, 2020

 because you were always right at the edge of night

*Published in Issue 17 & 18 of NOON: journal of the short poem

Saturday, December 26, 2020

 solar flare
what you
couldn’t hide

*Published by Cold Moon Journal on 12/26/20

Friday, December 25, 2020

 each day
is now shorter and darker
let me
have a moment
with this dying rose

*Published in Issue #23 of Moonbathing

Thursday, December 24, 2020

 inhale
snow
exhale

*Published by Haiku in Action on 12/24/20
 perhaps it was only a dream where violet begins

*Published in Issue #1 of Bloo Outlier Journal

Wednesday, December 23, 2020

 i am also in the dark coyote’s howl

*Published by Cold Moon Journal on 12/23/20

Tuesday, December 22, 2020

 how does one
pull out knives embedded
along their spine

ask your ancestors
if they need your permission
to spark a fire

*Published by Human/Kind Journal on 12/9/20

Monday, December 21, 2020

what remains
after each star combusts
into black

legend has it
there are colors
we have never seen

*Published by Human/Kind Journal on 12/20/20
 my happy place

is the sound
of a fireplace crackling
as snow gently falls

it is the taste
of a hot cup of tea
on a cold winter night

and it is the smell
of a blanket you slept in
as the blizzard roared

*Published by Central Coast Poetry Shows on 12/21/20

Thursday, December 17, 2020

 how many sapphires
does the ocean contain
within its depths

along the surface
of my skin
you will know infinity

*Published by Human/Kind Journal on 11/8/20

Wednesday, December 16, 2020

 flame
must you
tempt my hand

*Published by Fresh Out: An Arts and Poetry Collective on 12/16/20

Tuesday, December 15, 2020

 chimera

unraveling/tangling. and i just want to watch
the twilight become

*Published in Issue 3 of GLITCHWORDS

Friday, December 11, 2020

 unholy matrimony an off-pitch organ drones

*Published by horror senryu journal on 12/11/20
**Nominated for The Haiku Foundation’s Touchstone Individual Poem Award by the editor

Thursday, December 10, 2020

 denial

this isn’t
my blood

and these are not
my hands

i want to believe
each mountain

is a quiet river
and that your sickness

was only my
twisted fantasy

but this is
my blood

and these are
my hands

*Published in Déraciné Volume VII
here

this will
be our secret

the busted door
leading to

a darkened hallway
you may have

loved her first
but i

was the one
who found you here

crumpled on the stairs
your head in

my arms and
do you remember

what you confessed
between those

first hitched breaths

*Published in Déraciné Volume VII 

Monday, December 7, 2020

 you are never alone

someone
somewhere
knows intimately
the pain you are carrying

*

patience

when you feel
your soul is broken
beyond repair

just remember

invisible hands
of light and strength
are mending it new

*

this is only a beginning

the waves
will cease

and the ache
will fade

and you
will shine again

*Published in Fireflies’ Light: A Magazine of Short Poems #21
 liminal

tonight
i have no answers
and tomorrow
the same

so i will rest
my head upon this pillow
and pray
in this uncertain space

*

find the beauty, if you can

there is no highway
no autobahn for the winding
road that is grief

*

at home

we speak of aloneness
as a wretched thing to be feared

when quite simply

it is the closest we will ever be
to the stars and ourselves

*

let’s heal one another

i walked with nature
bare-faced and full of ache

she leaned in a bit closer and said
you are no different than me

*Published in Fireflies’ Light: A Magazine of Short Poems #21
 affection

when all hope seems lost
i am often at a loss
for what to say

but i hope you can
at least

take some comfort
in my hand
cradling yours

*

simplicity

i am trying to find joy
in the little things
these days

a fresh set of sheets
for example
or the still-lingering
scent of autumn rain

*

purgatory

it has been awhile
since i have seen

the sun pour its heart
through an opening of clouds

not just outside
but also within my mind

*Published in Fireflies’ Light: A Magazine of Short Poems #21

Friday, December 4, 2020

 freedom

your income
your marital status
your level of education

doesn’t matter

in the church
of this meeting
you are an addict

like all of us

*Published in Issue No. 18 of Anti-Heroin Chic
 diode

heavy is the
unseen wine bottle
when the earth is burning
burning and dying
lead are my arms and legs 
now tell me how
i can fly with the wings
you say i have
there are an infinite
number of sides to me
and all are confusing
in my gut
i know there are
luminous constellations
and if i raise
my heels high enough
i can weave
their fingers with mine

*Published in Issue No. 18 of Anti-Heroin Chic
 anti-eulogy

you weren’t
supposed to
feed me
amaretto liquor
until i
blacked out
when i
was underage
and if
you didn’t
know that
before this
i’m telling
you now

*Published in Issue No. 18 of Anti-Heroin Chic

Thursday, December 3, 2020

 in a vacant city
does a bullet still
demolish souls

ask the stars if
their shine was split
without consent

*Published by Cold Moon Journal on 12/3/20

Tuesday, December 1, 2020

 Ode to Dayton

you may have heard
about my city
splashed across headlines:

nine dead
dozens injured
from terror in the night

but you may not have heard
about the heroes
shielding others with their skin

and you may not have heard
about the peacemakers
singing in blood-covered streets

look beyond those headlines
and see the beauty
in our ashes

watch how quickly we rise
with golden wings
to soar into glorious light

*Published in The Dayton Anthology

Monday, November 30, 2020

 it begins
insidiously

like the one time

you called me
by
her first name

*

after leaving home
for the first time
in two weeks

I breathe in

the rain-soaked air
like a fragrant rose

*

noiseless
the moon and stars
birth life

this is

why I am still awake
at 2 a.m.

*

after mother died

I purchased binoculars
to view the night

as if she were hidden
between
Orion and Sirius

*Published in leave me here (the cherita book 42)
*The last cherita was designated as a cherita lighthouse (editor’s choice)
 in the belly
of a crypt
snake’s hiss

*Published by horror senryu journal on 11/30/20

Saturday, November 28, 2020

 happiness, pint by pint

this morning
i treated myself
to gourmet cookies & cream
held the pint in my
warm hand
before heading off to work
slowly i dipped my spoon
around the edges as they
began to melt
took my sweet
sweet time
to fully savor each bite
there’s a bag of granola
sitting undisturbed
in my dusty kitchen
and the vegan yogurt
i bought
with the best of intentions
is now a day past due
but neither
of those saintly things
can lift my spirits
in the way
that a bit of ice cream
can do

*Published by Tealight Press on 11/28/20

Friday, November 27, 2020

 long ago
a deserted forest
became my first lover

what other rooms
could you find within
your darkest abode

*Published by Cold Moon Journal on 11/27/20

Wednesday, November 25, 2020

 crescendo

we have been dry | the grass and i | wanting | begging | thunder
to soak up | our veins | this is why | when you came | with your
electric whip | on the horizon | a torch at twilight | neon pink
blue | caramel over clouds | i sat in silence | breathed | in
to watch you | a storm | crescendo | roll in roll in | over me

*Published in Issue 3 of The Confessionalist

Monday, November 23, 2020

 down down the musical rabbit hole

so i started listening
to early 90s Japanese ambient
which led me to
V A P O R W A V E
&
A E S T H E T I C S
then figured i could finally
try the screeching abyss
of harsh noise
& f*ck
there are genres
called lowercase
ocean grunge
& witch house
but sometimes i just
need to kick it old-school with
so tell me what you want
what you really really want

*Published by Skyway Journal on 11/23/20

Saturday, November 21, 2020

 are rubies
simply fragments
of forgotten dreams

it is possible
that we once lived
as the dust between sand

*Published by Cold Moon Journal on 11/21/20

Thursday, November 19, 2020

 ancestral wasteland

to name is to     in some sense
own     how strange then

you named me

without knowing     who i am
down to bones     tonight

i will set fire

to the dank leather cuffs     it’s time
you called me by     what

i really am

that molecule of sweat     freed
from the shame     your mother’s mother

forced into you

that hymn     caught in your throat
by the silence     your father’s father

impelled into you

i am an ocean     you’ll never taste
or a wildflower     you’ll never smell

i

am

free

*Published by Fever Dream on 11/18/20

Wednesday, November 18, 2020

 hoot of an owl
mist pushes through
the electric fence

*Published by horror senryu journal on 11/18/20

Saturday, November 14, 2020

 a bit of glass on my tongue crawling through weeds

*

claiming the subjunctive in the path of life’s fist

*Published in Bones 21

Wednesday, November 11, 2020

 matriarch

this night will
be my salvation

red moon

the blade is
heavy and cold

red hymn

and she waits
for a sacrifice

red flame

my body returned
to the earth

*Published by Dream Journal on 11/11/20

Saturday, November 7, 2020

 chainsaw massacre
welcome to
US politics

*

a vulture to carrion late-stage capitalism

*Published in Suspect Device Zine (Turning Japanese #3)

Friday, November 6, 2020

 at dawn my body still a scepter

*Published by horror senryu journal on 11/6/20

Wednesday, November 4, 2020

luddite playlist

courtesy of YouTube
i have now heard what a dial-up modem sounds like
when slowed down 700%

haunted houses
y’all gotta take note of that shit

these days
the golden rule is followers > following
and i low-key

hate myself for caring

yet that still doesn’t stop me
from checking my phone
8,437 times each minute

damn

i still remember listening
to the radio in ‘97
mixtape at the ready

waiting waiting

to press record at the exact moment
NIN’s Closer began

*Published by The Daily Drunk on 11/4/20

Monday, November 2, 2020

 dancing
around infinity

I grasp

the heart
of the universe
still beating

*

winter’s end

I cannot wait
to tell

the first flower
I see
she was missed

*

without signs
warning

do not touch

my fingerprints
would sully
each Pollock

*

my favorite days
are the ones
where I cannot tell

if I am
still dreaming

between claps of thunder

*

drops of freezing rain
stick to my hair

admittedly

I did not realize
what fun it is
to play ice queen

*Published in i heard it first (the cherita book 41)
**The second cherita was designated as a cherita lighthouse (editor’s choice)

Sunday, November 1, 2020

Tori Amos is my fairy godmother

it started with your hair
that unrepentant mess
of fiery curls, and the way
you gyrated your hips in
that Crucify video, Tori

you haven’t aged a day since

some pick guitars, but you
picked 88 keys to tame
and when no one else
could understand my wild
teenage heart, somehow
i knew you would

*Published in Periwinkle Literary Magazine Issue #2 (Wonderland)

Saturday, October 31, 2020

 cyanide twilight
in dreams i am
the hunted

*Published by Haikuniverse (www.haikuniverse.com) on 10/31/20

Thursday, October 29, 2020

 before death
did we gnash our teeth
in despair

a bluebird needn’t ask
if the air
will lift her feathers

*Published by Human/Kind Journal on 10/28/20

Note: This is the debut of the poetic form, Socratic verse, which I created. If you are interested in writing your own, here is the blueprint: At the heart of Socratic verse is a desire to explore the unknown, both internally and externally, through lyrical and surreal dialogue. Each part consists of 1 - 5 lines. 

Wednesday, October 28, 2020

distant bonfire
a bit of hickory climbs
through my window

*Published in the October 2020 issue of Stardust Haiku 

Tuesday, October 27, 2020

 lockdown...
but you never said
i couldn’t
travel the world
within my mind

*Published by Cold Moon Journal on 10/27/20

Monday, October 26, 2020

 it begins
with a howl
blood moon

*Published by horror senryu journal on 10/26/20

Friday, October 23, 2020

 sometimes

the only thing
i know to be true

is that the sun has risen
somewhere
brightly in our sky

*Published by Cold Moon Journal on 10/23/20

Thursday, October 22, 2020

 a deeper
ache in my bones
full COVID moon

*Published by Haiku in Action on 10/22/20

Sunday, October 18, 2020

this piece of amethyst
i hold in my hand
what secrets
have you kept
during your long life

*Published by Cold Moon Journal on 10/18/20

Monday, October 12, 2020

 at night, watching the mist rise

as fate would have it
i looked out my window
at just the right time
to watch a thick mist rise up
from a darkened lake

now had this event stopped there
i would have been content

but nature
has never been withholding
of her beauty

the mist continued rising
above the treetops
and then turned left to brush
her white silk against
the roofs of impending homes

but where she went from there
i will never know

because nature
has never been withholding
of her mystery

*Published by Central Coast Poetry Shows on 10/12/20

Friday, October 9, 2020

 moonlight falls
upon a quiet city
sometimes
a bit of magic
is so ordinary

*

another month
of social distancing
i share
my aches and dreams
with the curbside rose

*Published the 2020 edition of Under the Basho (Tanka section)

Sunday, October 4, 2020

awaiting
the cooler days of fall
i curl into
a book 
as thick as the moon

*

it’s late at night

and i might be
the only one awake

to watch the softness
of your breath
lay upon our home

*

first the lightning
then the thunder
when a dream
finds parts of my soul
i had yet to discover

*

that feeling 
when you first wake up

here but so far away

i want to hold on
to that moment
just a few seconds longer

*

after rising from sleep
waves of life
crash upon me

perhaps it’s a good thing
i have always loved

an untamed ocean

*Published in the autumn 2020 edition of The Bamboo Hut

Friday, October 2, 2020

I’m happy to announce that my third e-chapbook, tyranny of the familiar (Yavanika Press 2020), can now be purchased here. This collection of haiga was made in collaboration with the poet, Peter Jastermsky, and features 20 pieces of my art.
 when the rest of the world
is asleep

listen carefully

this is when
life speaks to us
through poems

*Published by Cold Moon Journal on 10/1/20

Thursday, October 1, 2020

 early fall
i skip the dress
for a tie

*Published by Haiku in Action on 10/1/20 with the following note: “a celebration of gender fluidity”
 focus

your breath
upon my words

you are
safe within
this space

*

each time

I build walls
around myself

the spring air
somehow
knocks them down

*

I wrestle

with a desire
to disappear

not to start over
but
to never be found

*

in my life

a lot of lines
have blurred

like the ones
dividing dreams
and nightmares

*

it is late
and I am
so very cold

but I cannot look

away from
these stars

*Published in from my window (the cherita book 40)
*The last cherita was designated as a cherita lighthouse (editor’s choice)

Monday, September 28, 2020

 watching
the fly outside
my home

it has been

one long
lonely year

*Published by Cold Moon Journal on 9/28/20

Sunday, September 27, 2020

moonbow
the strum
of his guitar

*Published in the September 2020 issue of Stardust Haiku

Thursday, September 24, 2020

 where the wind blows
                                                                  an afterthought

*Published by Fresh Out: An Arts and Poetry Collective on 9/24/20

Monday, September 21, 2020

orchid
how calmly you leave
this earth 

*Published via the Poetry Pea podcast (Series 3, Episode 18: Loss)

Wednesday, September 9, 2020

the most beautiful painting in the world

happened to be just
outside my home

and not surprisingly

in the shape
of a large magnolia bud

*

no words needed

we may not speak
the same language
dearest rain
but somehow we seem
to always
understand one another

*

now pick up those pom-poms

the world doesn’t need
another critic

it desperately needs
another cheerleader

*

because i do

do you ever feel
overwhelmed
when the sky

turns bright pink
as the night
draws near

*

a poem for the bereaved

may these words
walk alongside you
like a close friend

and when the tears
fall from your cheek
may each letter

carry your grief

*Published in Fireflies’ Light: A Magazine of Short Poems #20
just what i needed

today
the sun shone brilliantly
without a filter of clouds

thank you, God
for this blessed relief

*

in your arms

the way rose oil
warms up on skin
is the only comparison
i have
for this sweet summer night

*

so ordinary and yet not

there are days when
my heart is so heavy
i can barely move
and the only comfort
i can find
is that everyone else
has these days too

*

in defense of sadness

the grass has turned brown
my friends

this is why we need
those dark days of rain

*

intermission (for movies and life)

listen to the birds
outside your window
and don’t forget to look up
to the stars

*Published in Fireflies’ Light: A Magazine of Short Poems #20

Thursday, September 3, 2020

 further
into isolation
waning moon

*Published in The Asahi Shimbun (Asahi Haikuist Network) on 9/4/20

Monday, August 31, 2020

if you can
take comfort

in the change of seasons

even snow
will eventually
become tulips

*

thunder

I have missed you
more than you’ll ever know

the sun
can only say
so much

*

are you

as afraid
as me

when you
first dive
into sleep

*

a bit of magic
before dawn

here I am

watching
the Space Station
cross the sky

*

to the bird
near my window

I know
you are not singing
for me

but thank you

*

bruised

is how I would prefer
to remember

your hands
when striking
my flesh

*Published in a sense of place (the cherita book 39)
**The first two cherita were designated as a cherita lighthouse (editor’s choice)

Friday, August 28, 2020

supernova

with a sense of urgency
art and words
pour out from my soul

i pray

if this year is my last
may it be filled
with a lifetime’s worth

of color

*Published in the Poets Salon (coloradoboulevard.net) on 8/27/20

Tuesday, August 25, 2020

politics
I’d rather follow
a butterfly

*Published by Haikuniverse (www.haikuniverse.com) on 8/25/20

Thursday, August 20, 2020

Daydreams

Why, after all these years,
is the sky still that same shade of blue
when the entire vastness, day and night,
could be an endless rainbow?

For good measure,
let’s throw in a dose of glitter, too.

Why couldn’t the moon have been a disco ball
that spins when hung,
casting a translucent dance of shape and color
all throughout the earth?

Insomnia would be such a delightful occasion,
in my humble point of view.

And why, oh why,
can I not hold the stars close to my breasts
and feel the warmth
of their enduring glow?

After all, we’re family
and long overdue for a hug.

*Published by Central Coast Poetry Shows on 8/20/20

Tuesday, August 18, 2020

fistful of sweets
today I am
a kid at heart

*Published via the Poetry Pea podcast (Series 3, Episode 16: Joy)

Thursday, August 13, 2020

for you
dedicated to the Hubble Space Telescope

shot up into the cosmos, eased
into an orbit around Earth

you have silently watched

as comets wag their tails
of dust and light through solitary jaunts

and you have silently watched

as stars violently die, time after time
in a luminous burst of color

and you have silently watched

as the far ends of space
beam echoes of its creation into your brain

and it is through your eyes
i first learned

that the universe is more vast
meaningful and complex

than my existence will ever be

*Published by Dear Reader on 8/12/20

Sunday, August 2, 2020

because you wanted to talk s
                                                                                        plit atoms

*Published in Sonic Boom Issue Eighteen

Friday, July 31, 2020

no, I have never
seen the devil

but I have

seen a grown man
eye a little girl
like meat

*

I wish there was a noun

to describe
the sound of a night train
shushing anxiety

a lullaby
for the weary at heart

*

dear trees

it was in
your embrace

that I finally
learned
I was loved

*

pulling
each string
of my harp

who knew

a prayer doesn’t
need words

*

vanilla and sugar

let’s dream
for a moment

that this world
could be
as sweet as that

*Published in it’s a secret place (the cherita book 38)
*The first cherita was designated as a cherita lighthouse (editor’s choice)

Tuesday, July 28, 2020

storm -
and yet i am
forgiven

*Published in the July 2020 issue of Stardust Haiku

Monday, July 27, 2020

floating

floating into
the abyss
this year

i might as well be
a lost balloon

*

studies have shown
plants scream when cut

as if revolutionary, this notion

a living being
would not welcome
the sharp end of a blade

*

silence blooms
among the ruins

this

is where i become
the peace
i always craved

*Published in MacQueen’s Quinterly, Issue 4

Sunday, July 26, 2020

REDACTED

Headlines are a master of disguise.
 
When speaking about war they say
civilian casualties,
never murders,
 
because the latter would naturally
prompt one to ask:
 
Who
did the murdering?
 
And let’s just say
REDACTED
don’t want you to ask
too many questions when they
push the button,
send the bomb.
 
You’re to supposed to nod in unison with
REDACTED
and walk away,
like they do,
smug in the notion
those “casualties”
could not have been avoided;
 
such a shame.

You do realize, however,
REDACTED
could just as easily
pull the trigger
on you, and again,
your casualty
could not have been avoided;

again, such a shame.

*Published by Central Coast Poetry Shows on 7/26/20

Monday, July 20, 2020

a journey
to the moon and back
late-night jazz

*Published via the Poetry Pea podcast (Series 3, Episode 14: Voyages)

Tuesday, July 14, 2020

not unlike a meteor cancer wiped her out

*Published in Bones 20

Sunday, July 12, 2020

tsunami
you ask
what it’s like
to live
with OCD

*Published by Fresh Out: An Arts and Poetry Collective on 7/12/20
i close my eyes
and breathe in
slowly
light pours through
each window

*

leaves gently
fall towards the earth
how easy
it is to love
all of nature’s beauty

*

while the world
shatters around me
i will pretend
a rainbow is waiting
to ignite a blackened sky

*

this morning
full of rain and gray
thank you
for giving me
a space to ache

*Published in the summer 2020 edition of The Bamboo Hut

Sunday, July 5, 2020

metaphors and such

i am underwater
with a current pulling me into its grip

but

i think we both know
there is no water

and

that this really is
a thinly veiled metaphor

but

i am still underwater
with a current pulling me into its grip

*Published in Black Flowers Literary Journal, Volume Six

Friday, July 3, 2020

taking
a bow
dying rose

*Published in The Asahi Shimbun (Asahi Haikuist Network) on 7/3/20
waiting
for night

a temple
opening

*Published in the July 2020 edition of is/let

Tuesday, June 30, 2020

I am

both shades
of midnight

when you
slip into
my mind

*

tell me again

that she wasn’t
as good as me

when you
explored her skin
instead of mine

*

the things
left unsaid
burn in my chest

look at me

a black hole
playing human

*Published in and still (the cherita book 37)
*tell me again and the things left unsaid were designated as a cherita lighthouse (editor’s choice) 

Sunday, June 28, 2020

summer
my mind is still
winter

*Published in the June 2020 issue of Stardust Haiku

Monday, June 22, 2020

making a joke of me one pine needle

*Published in the June 2020 edition of is/let

Sunday, June 21, 2020

Absolute Zero

dad’s greatest hit
a kick
between mother’s legs

children services
we memorize
our lines

5th Commandment
another beating
justified

family photo
I learn
to grind my teeth

gaslight
suffocation
is play

slow death
he demands
to share my bed

absolute zero
our roles shift
to predator-prey

no exit
he name drops
a hitman

*Published in Issue #24 of Prune Juice (under the pseudonym, Coda)

Tuesday, June 16, 2020

Join Me

I am nowhere near an ocean,
but I can imagine it so clearly:
the waves gently crashing
against the shore;
the sand nestled between each toe,
warming, easing
the aches I’ve accumulated
from daily stress and woe;
and the sound,
oh God yes,
the call of seagulls as they glide
effortlessly through the air.

I am far away from this,
I know,
but in my heart I am there,
with the sand, waves, and birds;
and for once,
the anxiety that so often
holds my body and mind hostage
cannot reach me,
cannot bind and torment me
while I am in the midst
of this momentary illusion.

*Published by the Tipp City Area Arts Council on 6/15/20

Monday, June 15, 2020

finally comfy
in my skin
magenta twilight

*Published via the Poetry Pea podcast (Series 3, Episode 12: Aging)

Wednesday, June 10, 2020

a woodpecker
pecking pecking
each day
is a constant battle
to stay sober

*Published in Issue #22 of Moonbathing

Tuesday, June 9, 2020

tonight’s wind

you roar
and then you whisper

thank you

for trusting me
with your thoughts

*

tidal

just once
i want to know
what the moon has to say
about us

*

roses are rebels

they face each storm
head on

and yet
they always return

perhaps this is why
they so often

carry thorns

*

ephemeral

sometimes
music makes me
forget
i am mortal

*

in awe

while i know
the science behind
the twinkling of stars

just for this moment

i will feign ignorance
simply to enjoy
their silent hymn

*Published in Fireflies’ Light: A Magazine of Short Poems #19

Monday, June 8, 2020

impermanence

but the night
wasn’t always

and neither
was the rain

*

everyday sacred

as i approach
the sun-soaked forest

i stop and inhale

this, too
is hallowed ground

*

on butterflies (and humans)

you are
a painting in motion

never let
the world tell you otherwise

*

better days ahead

the hungry way
daffodils reach
for the sun

my joy
hinges on recounting
such lovely things

*

astray

tossing and turning
in this bed hewn
from jagged stone

i am
so lost
without your light

*Published in Fireflies’ Light: A Magazine of Short Poems #19

Saturday, June 6, 2020

metamorphosis

i chose to hide
hiding until not even
the moon and constellations
could find me now

see, this is the quandary
of innocence

your crime becomes my skin
becomes my marrow
where your violence went is
a roadmap of never will

i may have chosen
the dusty attic and cobwebs
with a bed tightly smashed against
the broken wall, but i never

chose such marred sheets

in dreams
i still have fingers replaced by tentacles
and the quiet streets are the ones
i most fear

*Published in Black Flowers Literary Journal, Volume Five

Friday, June 5, 2020

perhaps
we have misread
the moon

*

now that
we have become

spiders burning
under glass

*

Jupiter
I am the one
called ant

*Published by Heliosparrow on 6/5/20

Thursday, June 4, 2020

the ends justify the means (or some shit like that)

i didn’t learn much
from my 8 a.m. economics class
during my sophomore year of college
partly because of the tortuous
time of day, but mostly
because i dropped it

however, i have since developed
a working knowledge of this subject
courtesy of #45, who when faced
with America’s impending economic doom
suggested that the sick, quite literally
inject themselves with Clorox

*Published in The Alien Buddha Destroys the Economy by Alien Buddha Press

Sunday, May 31, 2020

guns. We all choose different milks

*Published in the May 2020 edition of is/let

Thursday, May 28, 2020

sip of chamomile how gently stars drop

*

taking a few
extra breaths
fully bloomed jasmine

*Published in The Asahi Shimbun (Asahi Haikuist Network) on 5/29/20

Wednesday, May 27, 2020

entertainment
the darkest possible
timeline

*Published in the May 2020 edition of is/let

Monday, May 25, 2020

towering pine
show me how
to persevere

*Published in the May 2020 issue of Stardust Haiku
Blind Eye

sunrise through dust
they say a bad wind blows
along the Silk Road

rumors of death
as common as the sand

drawing blood
a plague doctor points
to the grey sky

thundering clouds
rows of hospital beds
replace verdant grass

all night lit and buzzing
the pharma skyscraper

in Wuhan
a new uncertainty blooms
while we turn a blind eye

*Published in the 2020 edition of Under the Basho (Linked Forms section)
*Written by Roman Lyakhovetsky and Tiffany Shaw-Diaz

Wednesday, May 20, 2020

collapsing into a black hole the fucks i give

*

pull the strings of a cello. the sun. a rifle.

*

in deep thought. saturn’s rings. an internal knife fight.

*

altered states of being the substrata of bees

*

even so
some like
the abuse

*Published in the 2020 issue of Under the Basho (Ku section)

Monday, May 18, 2020

night sets in body aches

*Published via the Poetry Pea podcast (Series 3, Episode 10: Monoku)

Monday, May 11, 2020

orphan. In my palms, a freshly cut violet

*Published in the May 2020 edition of is/let

Sunday, May 10, 2020

migraine
it’s all about
warwarwar

*

dawn
the pedophile
straightens his tie

*

Father’s Day
I scrub my hands
until they bleed

*Published in Issue #53 of Failed Haiku

Friday, May 8, 2020

quarantine nose ring

it’s been six weeks
or maybe ninety (i have, admittedly
lost track of time) since i left my home
without fear
of breathing the air
that you have breathed or touching
the places that you have touched
so i have contemplated
perhaps a few times
what it be like to pierce
my septum
with the limited tools
i have in my possession, simply
to shake up
this achingly dull routine

*Published in The Alien Buddha Contracts Covid-19 Act 8