Once, long ago, When love was new and young, When love was firm and supple, When love was as plentiful as hope, I threw my head back passionately and said, “You will never replace me! I am all you need!” I am the love of…

I am breathing I am living I can see, I can walk I am focused I am determined I embrace what I’ve thought I am fearless I am protected I am ready or not ‘cause today’s all there is I am bending the clock I…

The man has come! How I did not see! How I missed the feeling? Which has been there for a long time He was always there And I never knew! How I am waiting to fall in love! Yes, To fall in love with you…..

“I yam what I yam.” – Popeye the Sailor Man, 1929 “I am I, Don Quixote!” once proclaimed the brave knight to emulate him I have long strove sans mule, though never lacking a suitable Sancho Ponza I have discombobulated windmills slain foes with honor,…

I am alive I woke up this morning I am happy For nothing can stand in my way I am loved Because I love so many I am alone But I am never lonely I am finished with my first poem With 17 minutes left…

Lost, Looking In I am lost, looking in Wandering the circle of a cup and saucer I am lost, looking in Pacing the perimeter of a brick house I am lost, looking in Fading in the mirror every morning I am lost, looking in The…

Persephone whispered to the flowers, “I am lonely.” How quickly a plea becomes a confession of guilt. Surrounded by sun, friends, and mother. Looked after by A far away father. Yet, she sits- Pining for more.   Persephone clenched Hades’ freshly pressed dress shirt- leaving…

An iamb is inherently a paradox of poetry Transparently trochaic, it cannot contain itself. Poor thing, it is Its own antithesis, and as such might be my spiritual synthesis As I am, also, set against myself; depicting what I am not Form fascinates me, yet…

At the end of every news cycle, I sweep my mind of the day’s detritus – children in cages, election machines calibrated to confirm our escalating doom, icebergs melting one broken treaty at a time – for a chance to scream out all my responses…

  In the wash of surrounding beauty I am but a frivolous stroke of the brush in the absent minded flick of the hand that holds it or am I? For in the wake of who you were is the truth of who I am…