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Smile Wide

A square table crying

in a dusty attic

four folding chairs

easy to move, easy to lose

And the table remembers

through the golden haze of time

meals with a delicious weight

But one summer the table

was abandoned and three times a day

the folding chairs were opened

in a square but with walls between

The little table was forgotten but

as the leaves and tears continued to fall

the table was pushed up against a wall

and three chairs tried to smile wide but

even so they still cried.

Make Waves

Raindrops make waves

freeze frames show mountains

each with its own valley

creating a border and a


waves hugging each other

circles filling circles, ovals, squares

circles every moving

never roving but

this drop knows that puddle

smaller than that pond

weaker than that flood

faster than that ocean

touching every island

jumping from each cloud

all remember the first wave

spreading as it strengthens

encircling the biggest circle of


"Remember, just because something doesn’t last forever, doesn’t mean it wasn’t worth your while"

- Hopeless Romantic

Mr. and Mrs. Mister

 Moment of unity but

one stands taller and

he smiles louder.

There are two hearts

but a solitary name.

The yawning chasm

exhausted from sleeping all these restless nights.

The night sweeps me off my feet

and as the sun begins to rise

the world falls under and the blaze floods.

Crawling through the noon shadows,

behind the open spaces I hide.

My armor begins to bleed and

the ledge grasps my fingertips but

my eye races towards the yellow line faster.

The white cement cracks and pulls me up.


A misty shadow standing on the concrete.

"Your name?"

"Number One."

"What does your mother call you?"

"I don’t have a mother."

"Detonation, mark."

Two holes above the concrete smile.

I just faked a cold to get out of church tomorrow. Sorry I’m not sorry.

Am I over you…

     …if I cry when I see your picture?

        …if I can’t help thinking it might not be over?

Negative Capability

I need people

I wear my heart on my sleeve

and give it to whoever

offers a smile

So I gave you my heart

and then you either

run or drift away and

I’m left with

Artistic License

The photo of a dead soldier

haunting, breaking hearts

as the war tore the country apart.

A man dying

to fight against his brothers.

Then they told me

you spent the day moving his body

playing with his resting place

manipulating our emotions

with the smell of blood

and the weight of a camera on your back.

Tell his story, then let him

rest in peace.

Beautiful thoughts are like bubbles, if you try to hold onto them, they pop.