What is the Rare Place?

Never two the same

none ever in the Rare Place

deep and dark like lost woods,

or quiet eyes on Death’s eve.

How to wonder as far as fingertips,

to shut as tightly as innocent ears,


beyond the twinkle of the sea break,


An opening not so wide

just a glimmer of acquiesced satisfaction

for a dreamland of longing.

A softened and yet horrid type of drill

that pierces the back of the neck and

nags down until there is ash dusting

the place where the heart should be.

Come take a look into the black reflection

of a mirror and leap.

There is a burning and no fire

a chase but no hunt

a parasite to no host.

You can open your fists now.

Never two the same

the new and the old

and likewise,

no two can survive in this Rare Place.

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get out of your house

Get out of your neighborhood.

Get out of your town.

Get out of your state.

Get out of your country.

Go out of this world.

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shake rattle boom

if these walls told stories

they’d be crying

tear me apart!

fussin’ about the lies

he told back when

it mattered-

won’t change the fact

that now-

baby’s shredding the

inner parts of my ear-

it’s ringing-

ringing like that time

i caught you shakin’.

spittin’ lies again, Jim-

and now this pisspole

woman you met that night

after the fireworks is at

my house asking for your


listen, she rattles like-

like a dying snake

like the sound won’t stop

like why didn’t you think

of me!


but i can’t keep you wise

you know,

the fool down

the street-

he told me to keep

an eye on you,

well i-

i kept them both and

still missed the main point-

when the pieces don’t fit,

the house goes boom.

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Happy New Year!

Thank you all so much for checking in and reading bits of my work over the past year. I feel like I’ve gotten to know myself on a deeper level in 2020 and it really showed in my work.
I love poetry–I can even say that it just might be my first true love. This year, I picked the pen up and put down my thoughts more than before. It is with this creativity that I found joy and peace during, arguably, the most challenging year in recent memory. Writing got me through a lot.
So with that, I am wishing you all a wonderful 2021. I hope that you find your peace and I hope that you are able to re-find YOU. It’s easy to get lost in this world. But when you pull yourself back and reconnect, it is so amazingly refreshing!


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hollow things

magically, these things appear
without hints
or mysterious thought.
explanations are not needed.
but you seem determined to reveal
every secret told
by members of this
dangerous and strategic war–
hearts against minds
eyes against lust.
this is the unspoken of,
these are the lines…
tricky and easily misunderstood.
they warn you about butterflies
when in fact there are pin holes
piercing the tight places
in the middle of your neck
and a crack in your head
constantly bleeding at night.
it is a terrible thing,
to be in love
when the body is hollow
and you can’t wash out old stains.

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the moon don’t dance

Gravity. Things fall.
It isn’t a dance, you see.
No, it is a law.

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there’s an old saying that when we go fishing we pull up strings

at the ends,
we won’t know
where we’d been led
or exactly where to go.
to be trussed and knotted
lines of our pasts be forgotten
or whirling in fish traps
tangled in waves as the sea slaps,
we can’t see but two feet ahead.
cleverly clustered to keep warm, yet
taken up in boats.
not near and not far,
not one that man should boast.

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This is what you say

Tell ’em your soup was too hot.

It hit your throat like lightning.

You couldn’t holler about it.

The shock was volcanic

and frightening.

They’ll have their doubts.

Will say you never cried,

you should’ve bellowed out,

we’ve heard Wolf too many times!

Those dreams you had in your head,

with the dimmed lights, paper bags and coats,

they stopped coming around.

Now, you have noisy visions.

There’s haunting behind your eyelids

and what you have now are missions.

Tell ’em you didn’t have a plan,

that where you slept was too cold,

it gave you writer’ brain freeze.

Tell them you have an idea.

They’ll ask you where did you go

and why did you leave.

Say, My inspiration is failure.

Say, my inspiration was Failure.

They’ll be listening then.

Be like the lightning with steaming hot words.

And do not forget,

most important of all these things,

never give ’em an excuse.

Never tell them your dreams.

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3 wishes

for feathers
for hollow bones
to fly ever alone.

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No shoes
No food
No friends
No job
No home

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I heard a quote

that you spoke about me.

Awful kinds of words.

Would you take it back,

and recant if you could?

you said you were venting.

Like a hot oven, I presume.

you said it was just banter.

Like a humming bird, I presume.

you said it with fervor.

Like a ballad, I presume.

A song about me.

How delightfully these words must’ve

melted away from your lips,

the perversion of me coming from

your mouth like snake’s venom

poisoning the air so freely and

without care.

I’m both impressed and humored

that such a person,

whose name I’ve forgotten,

remembered me.


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