Short Stories and Poems

My Short Stories                          

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My Poems                                     

Alive
My body, limited and finite.
My mind stirring freely, shakes the moorings of physical form.
My spirit, spreads boundlessly into the world, it's true form emerging each day. 
Our souls expand, our will effecting all around us.
Blood, tissue, our bodies just a conduit receiving life.
Feel life coursing through your veins, flowing ceaselessly from within. 
Rejoice in pain even, for it is part of life's deep beauty.
The rose more exquisite for its thorns, not despite them.
Scars of survival show proudly, a testament to existence, a mark of bravery. 



A Girl Named July

July sits in the grass with painted toes, big sunglasses.

July kisses you with red lips in a torrent of red hair.

July smiles, white teeth sparkle like stars.

July winks, eyes of blue crystal. 

July is independent and free.

July dances in the rain, wet clothes, lightening strike heart.

July is love, born at first sight.

July walks on her smooth tan legs, white shorts.

July swims, bare skin, wet hair.

July plays guitar, nimble fingers fly like birds. 

July is warm nights and long talks.

July leaves you broken hearted, out of time.

July has gone away, August comes along. 

Time 

Time fills the tender vessel of life,

a boiling liquid, 

a frozen froth, 

a sloshing tempest of inevitability. 

A chalice of unknowable volume, barely a drop to a brimming ocean it may such carry.

Death,

not a bitter poison as on the lips of lovers of old, 

iambic and doomed,

But a cup imbued with moments so sweet.

Night Thoughts 

Nights haunted by night thoughts

Pierce like a needle, watch my happiness bleed. 

The clock ticks forward as the demons they rustle, in my head their faces sneer.

Doubt and fear, these imps of the mind whisper,

Discontent with their daylight pens. 

The soldiers of dread, uniforms marked with insignia of sorrow, they pepper the space behind my eyes with machine gun fire.

A hail of bullets, bursts of negative musing rattling throughout my skull.

In the silence of the dark side of the earth, attraction, a just as troubling orb of rumination. A heart feels what a mind should not know and yearns for what it cannot have. 

My affections held at an arms length because of arm strength.

A body crippled, a heart blind to logic and a mind addled with notions of pride.

These night thoughts they devour.

I curse the thoughts of the late hours.

The Sun

The sun melts the snow away, as it does the doubt of the unsettled mind. 

Daylight yields the greatest returns though brighter it shines for five billion years still.

Bright is the soul that lingers in the light when darkness descends. 

With winter abound the sun shutters it's burning face wayward, and we are left to grasp at the beams far and few between. 

We are all waiting for the summer sun to wash away the doubt.