feeling snowflakes sting on cheeks
a dark expanse of sky flies past
sending them all in a flurry
catch one on your tongue
a fleck of cold gone too fast
and a moment too fleeting
even to grasp
project 365
midair
a pitcher has a unique position
the ability to control how the ball travels
the speed, the curve, a knuckle or none
the catcher gives the cue as to what might be best
ready at the mound
hand behind my back
waiting for the number, the cue
was that a one or a two
pull the ball up into my mitt
preparing to throw the arc
i release it, rolling through my fingertips
a launch into the unknown
hoping for a certain outcome
trusting the catcher to be there
but the bat strikes, loud and hard
sending it soaring past third base
leaving me hanging midair
for what I don’t suspect… a foul ball
a hit, but a strike nonetheless
was it a misunderstood hint from the catcher
or did I trust him too much with my ball
now the ball is out
and I’m caught midair
something funny about dreams
Alarm blares you awake,
your eyes struggle to open.
What was that dream again?
A lion, a tiger and a bear
chasing you through a white house
that you’ve seen in dreams twice before
so you know where to escape…
No, that was the night before.
Wasn’t it?
Oh, yes… that guy was there,
the one who hasn’t been present
in my dreams for a long time,
with me holding my hand.
But then wait…
I distinctly remember something,
something funny like
a large white hammer.
Perhaps a carnival,
or a performance where my feet
or my words are forgotten
if I remember to show up at all.
Now I’m just lost.
What do they mean?
Are they meant to show
something fake or real?
So bizarre, dreams are.
Brand
Fire sears at my skin.
I flinch, unsure
of what to think…
I’m branded now.
The tattoo burned and burns
into untarnished flesh,
with no regards to
how it feels, how it hurts.
At the same time,
a sense of security
surrounds all of me,
for knowing just one thing…
From the fire I know
someone owns me.
Now I’ve got the brand,
the scars to prove it.
for love
you can’t change it
it’s done
something in the past
not just for fun
but for love
like the song
what i did for love
you can’t forget
and you can’t regret
what you did for love
better to love than lose
without knowing for sure
that’s what they say
now i know it’s true
it may sound crazy
but love is worth everything
sunburn
trapped inside, dark and cold
then you hear sun has come out
you bolt to the door, unable to contain–
so excited to witness its radiance
smiling brightly from ear to ear
glowing uncontrollably from head to toe
the sun illuminates every part of you
with just a single touch, a single call
once out in the sun, you can’t get enough
you sit there, allowing it to caress your skin
enjoying every moment it can share
only after do you see a mistake has been made
skin, bright red, scorched by the blinding light
heat emanates from the scarred tissue
it hurts, may peal, and can cause deadly things
despite all this, you can’t help but smile
you don’t regret sitting in the sun, loving it
you don’t regret having the sun as a companion
you don’t regret forgetting protection, the sunscreen
you don’t regret the red skin, for you know it fades
you don’t forget the effect the sun has on you
you’ll forever cherish every moment with the sun
you love it, and you’re sure it loves you back
even though some days it’s not there
lost it
Wait a second…
where was I?
Oh, snap!
It was just there.
On the tip of my tongue
then it flew back down.
Oh, yeah. That.
But where was I going?
This is a lost cause, huh?
the candle’s song
When you light a candle,
don’t turn the lights off.
Let it burn, let it dance,
let it glow, let it whisper.
And don’t touch it.
When you listen to the candle,
don’t ignore the crackles.
Hum along, whistle soft,
then sing it over and over again.
And don’t let it end.
too much
When is it all too much?
When is it never enough?
Where is it perfect?
Where is it insanity?
What could hurt so bad?
What could leave you in want?
Who could revel in it?
Who could bear it?
Why is it never enough?
Why can’t enough ever be enough?
a little leap
People step, sometimes run.
When them do, it’s typical
to see what’s in front of them all.
Skip one step, dance on your toes,
remember long after but forget to go
to what you can’t see.
Take a ___ of faith,
a ___ over that treacherous
river and ___ across that mountain.
When you ____ , you find
and see what’s on the other side.
A ___ is the freedom to not hide.