e.e. cummings – and feeling

“(and feeling:that if day

has to become night

this is a beautiful way)”


-e.e. cummings


after all, what we do is fall down

i tether knots around the cosmos,

in the deepest corners, beneath the crevasses of the smallest suns,

in the vast supernovae beaming with glory

still every and each fashionable hope i tenderly laced between the threads of time

instantly disintegrates into shards of realization; sharp-the acid is

my drug


my fingers cannot tell the time

neither can the cosmos ponder childish hopes

fall is down what do we all after


“For small creatures such as we the vastness is bearable only through love.”-Carl Sagan

the black velvet bow of time

i found within myself the crevices and reality

feeding swollen veins with unrequited heartache,

embracing the comfort held beneath the dull photographs [i call home]

ticking hands pounded violently between my saddened ears

branding each page of recollection with staggered syllables

tugging and prodding at the deception masked within your name


the memories became tangible and frail, i stood at a distance

visiting every instance of unpromise’s rapturous kiss

and watched as his hands united the black velvet bow

the crevices swallowed the loss of heartache’s scars

and plucked the crumbs of a poisoned lover’s foolish mess



i cannot bask beneath the rays of instances and photographs

for shadows mask the quiet wings of crevices and letting go

instead, i nestle in the arms of loneliness

finding forever in a day


“Writing, at its best, is a lonely life. Organizations for writers palliate the writer’s loneliness, but I doubt if they improve his writing. He grows in public stature as he sheds his loneliness and often his work deteriorates. For he does his work alone and if he is a good enough writer he must face eternity, or the lack of it, each day.” -Ernest Hemingway

Freedom found within a crowded room.


my lil sis

And the greatest of all fears stems from the battle we wage upon ourselves.  Exposing oneself to complete vulnerability allows us to examine the naked truths and mold vain deceptions into what defines us – allowing us to see the exquisite beauty found beneath every imperfection.  Conquering one’s self mirrors impossibility and stands as the most cunning fabrication, a lie which leads to the greatest of all torments: The prison we’ve created beneath our flesh.

All false judgment and negativity leave no stain on the soul of freedoms victories.

For a man to conquer himself is the first and nobelist of all victories.” -Plato

passion – nowhere but here



Describing the absolute rapture, claiming all sense of reality, is absurd and unattainable – when i’m lost within the nothingness of passion, I close my eyes and melt into the hands of music.  There is nowhere else i’d rather be.

“One good thing about music, when it hits you, you feel no pain”

-Bob Marley