Empty chocolate wrappersstrewn across the unmade bedlike spent shells from a smoking gun.Sweet ammunition rests heavy in her belly,A failed salveon festering wounds,her growing girth bears witnessto the shattered glass of her past.A daughter’s fulfillment, a mother’s glee. Featured Download: If you would like a resource to help you write poetry like this, CLICK HERE.

I believe that all roots run deep,Though they may not be visible to the human eye,They build a strong foundation,By reaching out and intertwining. They become a secure anchor,As a life begins to grow. I believe that every day has potential,And that the layers of your life,Are expanded by experiences,That connect the rings of your…

Lao Tzu, Thoreau and Dr. King were jailed. But though they’re dead,people still know and even sing a lot of what they said. King was killed. And Christ. And we have made them holidays.The others willed us poetry to tell us of their ways. Rosa Parks declined the seat her driver said to take.For Joan…

for Kevin You have felt tugged, as by some foreign forcetaking you to the exotic landof Good, where everyone’s self-made and livesas an aristocrat, then pulled to Better,then Best, stretched past your limit to Beyond.And that great force has made your Soul feel taller.But when you’re on the brink of being snappedin two, my good…

The sly whisper from mother to daughteron her wedding day still echoes in her ears,“Don’t blow up.” A smile creeps across her face, knowing her arrowhas hit its mark. The wound lies festeringin the daughter- a broken arrow    never       to be pulled           from her heart. Featured Download: If you would like a…

there is something to the act of letting go. letting go of your wants and desires, trading them for what becomes your needs never realized. in the sense that our very detailed, put-together and controlled lives can be abandonedwith a single thought, replaced instead with a primal desire for all to be right. all to be right,all to be right,all to be…

I’ve reached the age of forty-twoAnd squint to read small print and clocks;Can barely thread a needle through,And Mondays, slip on mismatched socks.But while most shapes are getting blurred,My eyesight getting worse and worse,Intangibles seem less obscured.Nevertheless I curse the curse For though I see the dusk aheadAnd wish with all my ebbing mightIt were…

I used to enjoy games like Hide-’n’-Seek. The last time, I recallsqueezing down, flat on my side,behind a chest of drawers along the wall in the middle of the house. I was concealed so wellI could hear everything, and, for the most part, see.And no one found me. And I fellasleep. At Ali Ali Income-Free…

The days are long and the years are short: the way he refers to how he was as a babyat three, plainly understanding our old dog not coming back and dad always getting on a plane.My eyes calculate the millimeter increasesin his legs in the stints I’m gone and photos and Facetime in the meantimepair…

what if we were scared of every opportunity? overcome by our doubts, our insecurities- deathly afraid of being exposed.we would never take a risk, never find heartbreak or pain.is that a good thing?what if we knew what each decision would bring? we would cease to make decisions.the reward of effort would vanish.the satisfaction of a love which only can…