Category Archives: poetry

Us, always

Apparently, it’s National Poetry Month.

I scribbled this poem out while testing a new fountain pen this afternoon. Enjoy 🙂

us, always
before we were, there was still an us
after what is you and I has gone to dust
the force that creates us will remain
forever chasing the starlight from which we came


Cell Phone Waiting Area

I’ve said so many goodbyes here
At this airport
In this space
So many tears
So many one last hugs and sweetly stolen kisses
So many footsteps between gates and TSA and Powells and Coffee People
Crossing continents between storefronts
So many goodbyes that the awful teal carpet is embossed on my soul
I see it in my sleep when I travel Away
And know when my Chucks touch it again I am home
Or someone I love is home
Or is leaving and I am stuck with the cold walk across the skybridge
To the damp parking garage
Clutching another book from Powells in my hand like it will ward off the chill of the bed
That you’ve slept in these past two weeks
And tonight I will have all to myself
I should wash the sheets but they still smell like you
Like us
Like your skin cream and our sex
And I should wash those sheets
And your hoodie you left behind
But tonight when I sleep alone
I want your scent to surround me again
I’ll dream of airport goodbyes on different continents and know that soon
I’ll be back on that awful turquoise carpet
And you
You’ll be home again

Happy (poem)

I want to believe you 

              Are happy
But it is hard 

       When your body

               Is telling me





Your laugh
It strikes me from afar
An uncommon thing
Like a wild bird

The quirk of your wide mouth
In a smile
Barely formed
Nearly there

The soft grunting sigh
The humor in your eyes
The beauty of your jaw
As you scratch the stubble there

I hear it in the rasp of your voice
The quickness of your thoughts
‘I love you’ hovers in my mind

Like your laugh
But shimmering there
Behind every thought


Connected by technology,
in bed with each other,
though hundreds of miles apart
I’m reading Fight Club, I told him, and he made a face.

Really, I like Palahnuik
I said.

And he said,
I get that. But I thought you told me
That you don’t like who you are
When you like those kinds of books

And I’ve been questioning myself ever since.