Tag Archives: beauty

She’s Fiction

She's Fiction

She’s Fiction

She’s fiction from nails
to knees
laughs in texts of haha
and heehee
writes every look hair
recorded down in her
fears the critics most
and their reviews of
her life
she’s pushing out prose
and drowning in dyes
inks to cover up flaws

You Are What You Write

You Are What You Write

You Are What You Write

I don’t want to be

I just want to write, me,
an addict who thinks that
life’s a bit more trashy
than it is tragic and
who just wants to find a
way to laugh instead of cry
and turn screams into
sighs huffed over cups
half full, empty, or
filled up with whatever I
damn well please

So, I won’t write about roses
romantic flings, or convoluted
notions for which you have to dig

I’ll be



Half way through the work week, folks. Hope you’re hanging in there. Wanted to throw up a nice little poem today after I did some writing over the weekend, and some research on popular poetry and topics. I penned some more conservative works and did some more perfect metered rhymes and, you know what? I didn’t like them. Why? Because that’s not how I am nor is it how I like to write. So, on that thought, I did this one instead and I’m rather fond of this guy. He’s real, kind of funny looking, a little sour, but he’s one hell of a fun guy. And that’s kind of how I realize I like my poems so, hopefully, you’ll enjoy them, too.


Here’s to hoping that your day flies by and that you have something cold and on the rocks waiting for you when you get home tonight.




There’s no stopping it,
no shadow dark enough
no cliff to drop it
from that’s depths will
keep it down,

it’s a sort of brilliance
that knows no bounds
except those self-imposed
upon it,

a rough stone rolled
but now, polished,
outshines the stars and
promises to tomorrow that
there will be something
more if they have
anything to say about it

an ambition that drowns
all the rats who try
to cast their sinking ships
atop it,

a fierce fire
that burns and seers
the grasping vines of
those who dare to say
no to its kind,

a force forever reaching
sinking its self into
the annuls of history
and refusing to give in
to this world, its misery,
and avowing never
to back down without
fighting that good fight –

all these things in one,
I have found a living inspiration
by which to live my life.


Happy Birthday to him to whom my words will never do justice.

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