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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If it hurts, let it bleed

I remember when I was
careless, unsure and okay.
There was a fire in my days.
I walked with eyes closed,
heart locked,
I’d take on riffs and waves
of doubt, fear, shame.
Today I am not the same.
I proceed with caution
and think a fool’s deep.
Not able to feel with my heart
too concerned about failing.
Have I failed and fallen
and fractured my soul?
Unable to recover,
the wounds are grey and cold.
I do recall the days I was strong;
“there once was a girl who
had little, yet so much.
She let it go everyday
and the next day it would return.
Finding way home
on two feet,
two feet.
Little bird, little bird
your home is so sweet.”
As it would be told,
the little girl never left home.
Only her body grew in
anxiousness, darkening her hope,
muting her faith and questioning
her love of all things.
Nothing in her was lost
or without.
Excavating the spirit,
digging out the dirt,
reconnecting the body
with the mind is divine work.
So let the streets be a stage
and trials be like picking roses.
If it hurts, let it bleed.
Let it flow, let it breathe.
Just promise one thing:
never let it die, never let it hide.
Always, always keep on the light.

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conversations we had

all in my head
i thought you said
‘i love you’
what you really said
is ‘i need you’
needs aren’t wants
and neither is close to love
which is a feeling
undetermined by the brain
solely powered by the heart
and that is an energy most

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in the Water is where we stand

Ye have no faith

No weight to carry

Ye cannot walk on Water

He said

And told you a lie

Told you some stories

About what Faith is

My mother said

She said

If Water is where you stand

Fold your hands

Then stay there.

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and then there are times when we take showers

Messiness was hoped for.
At the time.
We put our toes in sand.
Then we soiled them in mud.
It was cool.
When the sun is too hot.
There are times when we have to melt.
The trials summer.
Red balloons.
Chocolate and nuts.
Ripped jean shorts.
There are times when waves.
Hit the shore.
I didn’t know it then.
But now I am sure.
After the day.
There is night.
Then we go home.
And realize our dirt.

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You have one new message. First message:

….You didn’t answer your phone….what’s up with that?


End of new messages. Message erased.

Thank you, and goodbye.

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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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