life, love, poetry, rhyming, romance, self, thoughts, Uncategorized

Underneath the gold vessels

I’m licking at liquid pins

And in the sins are quick flung flings

It’s not the people, it’s me


Found underneath tight gold vessels

Are the mighty hearts I wrestle

And it’s not me, it’s you

Can’t you just look at me, too?

passion, poetry, rhyming, romance, self, Uncategorized


I can see you opening a box

Pale blue and glowing

And inside that box is the thing

That I’ve dreamed of knowing.

I think you’re able to see it

Whenever you have desired

But I’ve been searching for it

For so long and I’m so tired.

My heart suddenly realized

Why I’ve been so enamored

It was the recognition of you

Within me, the illusion shattered.

life, love, poetry, rhyming, romance, self, sex, thoughts, Uncategorized

Almost There

I’ll never stop biting the liquid off of your back

Cheek leaning on the palm of my languid lack

It’s eating away like vinegar on my tongue

Dripping like an impulse of invigoration unsung


And then there’s the sound of the softness of your invitation

The hesitation in my lips and your musical sensation

In which I redirect the childlike mind running my heart

I dream of petrifying our past and finally getting our start



love, poetry, rhyming, thoughts, Uncategorized

The crepe between

There is a similar curiosity

Pervasive since it was just you and me

And in our little house of lies

My mouth was watering for how to survive

It took the booming of thousands of hours

Blooming into the skies of our eyes like flowers

Despite the desire of love and lust

Neither could reconcile the remembrance like dust

Our nonsensical buzz and passionate gaze

Like the love is like hate, that’s the phrase

Between you and me and the sea

The fold keeps wrinkling like a gift from infinity

The crepe remaining feels drowsy and drowning

We pull on the sheet, our moment is crowning

art, life, love, poetry, rhyming, romance, sadness, Uncategorized


There’s a change

A new range between cage

Bars and the smart

Whip of finger snaps

I clap, I cry, I’m flying

On a blade of burnt grass

One change, enrage

But I’m myself again

Too many bars in the cage

Of your unwilling, thrilling


And my rods and cones

Focus like hocus pocus

I’m clapping, I’m crying, I’ll fly

On my smirking lips

Covered by finger tips

No “shhh…”

Just knowing, I’m instrumental

My sanity is mental

Finally, my heartbeat, feels gentle