Monday, March 16, 2020

a secret

each tree 
waits for you
to look at it
with love
and say hello
my dear friend

*

can you imagine

what if
every sentence we spoke
was a melody

what if
every conversation we had
was a symphony 

*

just a thought

he asked
why watch sunsets
when you see one
each night

i said
why wouldn’t you
when no two
have ever been alike

*

you brave soul, you

sometimes
the most courageous thing
you can do
is to share your heart
with a world
all too eager
to tear it apart 

*Published in Fireflies’ Light: A Magazine of Short Poems #18
the art
of imperfection
drizzled caramel

*Published via the Poetry Pea podcast (Series 3, Episode 6: Recipes)

Saturday, March 14, 2020

twilight. Every seed in his spine thirsted

*

a rifle. Cast grey from intermittent rain, this dawn

*Published in Bones 19

Wednesday, March 11, 2020

awaiting
the sweet scent
of April

I choose

bright colors
instead of black

*

warmer now

I leave home
without trepidation 

of the wind’s
sudden bite
against my neck

*

regardless
of winter’s savagery
flowers return

bold and lovely

I have
so much to learn

*

crabapple
magnolia 
cherry 

spring is
a reunion 

of friends

*Published in the Poets Salon (coloradoboulevard.net) on 3/11/20

Thursday, March 5, 2020

a remedy
for lack of friends -
American Girl catalogue 

*Published by The Asahi Shimbun (Asahi Haikuist Network) on 3/6/20

Sunday, March 1, 2020

uncle’s roaming solve for X

*

ordinary. Mother stumbled away from the fire, forgetting

*

crows on wires. “Y’only remember the bad,” he said

*Published by Weird Laburnum on 3/1/20

Saturday, February 29, 2020

Not to be THAT girl, but...

A dumpster literally caught on fire
at my apartment complex,
and I’m all like, “Why you gotta
be a harbinger ‘n shit?”

*Published by One Sentence Poems on 2/29/20
dandelions. In another universe, we might have been

*Published by Heliosparrow on 2/29/20

Friday, February 28, 2020

in the boneyard of your story a crow splinters marrow

*

soft rain in the belly of a cello

*Published in Issue 16 of NOON: journal of the short poem

Thursday, February 27, 2020

beatings. Like I said, after the sermon we

*Published in the February 2020 edition of is/let
as if it were dripping from each star. This night

*Published in the February 2020 edition of is/let

Wednesday, February 26, 2020

wingspan
of an albatross
this hope

*Published in the February 2020 issue of Stardust Haiku 

Monday, February 24, 2020

because it can winter howls

*Published in the February 2020 edition of is/let

Saturday, January 25, 2020

silver lining
in the blizzard
moonlight

*Published in the January 2020 issue of Stardust Haiku 

Friday, January 17, 2020

plot
twist
the
home
without
ghosts

*

desert
this how are you
fine thanks

*Published by Weird Laburnum on 1/16/20

Thursday, January 16, 2020

One Drop

At some point, 
in the lifespan of my soul,

I want to know what it’s like
to be one drop of rain.

To fall from the sky and splash
into a flower,

and then linger
in its luxurious core.

Perhaps I could then,
every so slowly,

like the beginning of a rollercoaster,
dive from petal to ground,

and then nestle myself deeper,
deeper, deeper

into the warmth
of an inviting earth,

simply to rest forever
in her arms.

*Published by Dear Reader on 1/15/20
**Published in the Coshocton Public Library System’s Pandemic Spring: Poems to Get Us Through on 4/2/20

Saturday, January 11, 2020

bass solo
rumbles of thunder
shake me awake

*Published by Haikuniverse (www.haikuniverse.com) on 1/11/20

Friday, January 10, 2020

before we were human the sparrow’s call

*

midnight
don’t we all
birth a universe

*

moonlit grass when our lives converge

*

free
if only
a theory

*Published by Heliosparrow on 1/10/20
*The first poem was short listed for The Haiku Foundation’s Touchstone Individual Poem Award

Tuesday, January 7, 2020

blank canvas
the earth covered
in fresh snow

*

a brush
of color
...spring returns

*

the Master’s Hand
flowers here
and there

*

a few leaves
redden
...chiaroscuro

*

endless art
nature’s glory
throughout the year

*Published in the winter 2020 edition of The Bamboo Hut

Thursday, January 2, 2020

Elegy in 4/4

Neil Young once sang
it's better to burn out
than to fade away     which was
also    coincidentally
quoted at the end of Kurt Cobain’s
suicide note

we're always fixated     on youth
aren't we?

better to be famous when
old men can     sexualize // monetize you
when you
look taut in bikinis and heels
as saliva drips on
the magazine spread

your legs

Christina Aguilera once sang
you gotta rub me the right way
as a teen     and even as a teen I

knew that was super creepy

but that’s still played
on the radio     and we all
listen to it     bob our heads
sing along like

whatever

have you ever thought that     when Britney
the Spears one     went batshit
and shaved her head
maybe that was the first thing
she could do

for herself

*Published in Kissing Dynamite Issue 13

Tuesday, December 10, 2019

ripped wings what you make of faith

*Published in Sonic Boom Issue Sixteen
**Selected for the 2019 Red Moon Anthology

Monday, December 9, 2019

If I May Be Honest

not enough love poems
have been written
for the leaves
sparkling wildly
in golden hour light
or the river’s
tender aria
playing dawn to dusk
simply
for anyone who
wishes to hear

*Published in Fireflies’ Light: A Magazine of Short Poems #17

Sunday, December 8, 2019

Why Not

you can be
anything in the world
so why not
be a parachute
covered in the most luminous
warm hues
helping others land
gracefully
after a most precarious fall

*Published in Fireflies’ Light: A Magazine of Short Poems #17

Saturday, December 7, 2019

Hummingbird

it must be
how starlight
falls upon this
foreign city
because I tell you
I could roam this earth
non-stop
as the vagabond
I wish I could be
with only the essentials
slung upon my back
and your hand
nestled in mine

*Published in Fireflies’ Light: A Magazine of Short Poems #17

Friday, December 6, 2019

First Snow

when I see
for the first time
each year
the way snow reflects
a shimmering moon
upon a world 
fast asleep
I might as well
be a child again
opening her first present
on Christmas Eve

*Published in Fireflies’ Light: A Magazine of Short Poems #17