Poetry

Origin Story

I know you

I walked with you

once upon a dream

or so I thought anyway–

it all grows confusing

when I stop to think about it.

So I try not to stop and think about it

but I do

every now and then.

I’ll take a detour

on a road, a path,

an avenue

of questionable memories

in my brain.

Disorientation takes hold

and it all grows confusing again.

I know you

but it isn’t fate

and it wasn’t the past

and my mind never could have

come up with a dream

like you.

Poetry

The Eyes Have It

The eyes have it.
Yours didn’t.
Do I stay
or do I go?
I didn’t know.
Now we both exist,
we live our lives–good lives!–
but we cross paths
with passing glances.
I don’t need to know
but I sure want to.
Do we course correct,
do we connect, do we
throw all caution without care,
do we carry on
as two unpaired?
What’s the story
hidden there?
Is it one
you want to share?

.

.

.

.

.

Poetry

One Way Street

The city burns as Nero plays

but you would rather face the blaze

to fight for riches–ash and soot–

cheap treasures trampled underfoot.

You made it there, why can’t you leave?

Weren’t you the one who did believe

that all the roads did lead to Rome?

Then why can’t they help guide you home?

Poetry

Fame and Infamy

Fame and infamy

are separated

by prefix and action,

one thing leads to another

as the dominos fall together

at the quaking earth.

What happened to the heroes?

They were never heroes.

What happened to the villains?

They were never villains.

What happened to the average folks

who lived average lives

in average times?

They were always average.

A prefix, an action,

a word or two,

a new generation torn between

fame and infamy–

shaken to their very core.