Monday, July 29, 2013


Oh, the ones out there
They call and call, but to no avail
Once in a very blue moon,
Yet not as blue as you’d think
They are heard
Over on this side
And oh so lost
And overwhelmed
They cal and call
Cries in the night
Whispers in the day
Afraid of themselves
In the open sun
Afraid He’ll hurt
The innocent
They come out,
They want our acceptance
They call and call, but rarely to
The ones they loved so dearly
Until we become them
Apart of them
And we’ll one day call and call
To no avail
Cries in the night

Whispers in the day

Friday, July 26, 2013


There are only lovers
No true loves or others.
Starcrossed or coincidental or spontaneous
Lovers are lovers.
We will never find true love
It does not exist.
Not now, not ever.
Love is only as love is,
But yet, we make it out to be
A phenomenon beyond scientific explanation
Beyond words
Beyond feeling

Monday, July 22, 2013


Stinging metals.
Bitter metal.
What does it taste like?
Smells like?
What could you use to describe it?
Nothing. Metal is metal.
It's dull and without emotion.
void of feeling, cold to the touch.
Forboding and unforgiving.
reprimanding of all who abuse it.
So why do we all know
from such a young age,
the taste of metal?


Saturday, July 20, 2013


Remember from my very first blog post I said I'd try to get a penny tiled floor?

       I wasn't kidding. Here's my collection so far!

Friday, July 19, 2013


Screaming Chinese Pancakes
Fruit and Spaghetti Fun!

Beans on Tostitos!
Mummy Finger food!

Monday, July 15, 2013


You are the brakes in my car.
Burning and glowing dim in the dark Unders
You toil and wear until one day you break.
You need constant care,
a maintenance thing, they say.
Why do I bother?

Alas, you are the brakes in my car,
the one that cares for me,
enough to pace my thoughts.
You toil away until the day,
you're outdone your share.

I thank you, for you truly are the brakes in my car.

Monday, July 8, 2013

Love's Away on a Holiday

Love's Away on a Holiday
Those days, our memories
The seamless past.
Dancing giddy and gay through the trees.
Flawless in its beauty
Beatless, patternless.
Arbitrary in itself.
Who knows.

What I do know is that this can’t be it.
It can’t all just end here.
We have so much to live for,

If not today, then tomorrow.

Monday, July 1, 2013

My summer's day

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
All hot and gay?
Muggy and sweaty,
Heat strokes and stings of a bee.
Where for art thou?
So radiant like a sun
The one that glares upon us
in the late afternoon, and thus
Forcing us forever indoors
to waste the summer days
rotting away.
Humid air, frizzy hair,
Helpless, the weary child.
Oh, shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Suffocatingly dry,
With droughts and floods,
All over the world.
Why oh why
My oh my, what a variety of scenes

To enjoy.