It

was

.

t

h

e

.

urge

.

before

.

t

h

e

.

yearn . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ the

heat

.

before

.

t

h

e

.

burn . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

did

.

n

o

t

.

learn . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

It

was

.

t

h

e

.

sip

. 

before

.

t

h

e

.

surge . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ the

rapture

.

before

.

t

h

e

.

turn . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

did

.

n

o

t

.

learn . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

did

.

n

o

t

.

learn . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

did

.

n

o

t

.

learn . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

did

.

n

o

t

.

learn . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

tomorrow 

arrived

–

–

again

today,

.

.

w

i

t

h

.

.

the

.

same

.

future

.

a

s

.

yesterday . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ with

.

t

h

e

.

same

.

future

.

a

s

.

yesterday . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

I

almost

.

found

.

a

.

way

.

t

o

.

pay . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

almost

.

found

.

a

.

way.

Reflection: This was a personal struggle-themed poem that I wrote back in July of 2016 where the affected party struggles with a negative cycle-of-addiction on constant repeat which ends up consuming his/her life – leaving not much of anything left.

There

once

.

w

a

s

.

a

time

.

i

n

.

the

days

.

o

f

.

youth,

–

–

when

.

m

y

.

pages

exploded

–

– 

with

.

t

h

e

.

howling

tunes

.

o

f

.

wildly,

–

–

romantic

moons . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

There 

once

.

w

a

s

.

a

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

now

.

t

h

e

.

days

.

a

r

e

.

not

.

a

s

.

new,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

I

begin

.

t

o

.

serve

.

a

.

colder

brew . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ a

colder 

brew

.

o

f

.

blue . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

.

a 

colder

brew

.

o

f

.

“truth”

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

thought

someday

.

.

I

might

return

.

t

o

.

that

room,

–

–

where

.

t

h

e

.

howling

wild

.

m

i

g

h

t

.

bloom

anew . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

thought

someday

.

.

I

might

return

.

t

o

.

that

room . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

everyone

.

h

a

s

.

become

“too” . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Too

nice

.

o

r

.

too

cruel . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ too

determined

.

t

o

.

win

.

o

r

.

lose . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Too

many 

issues

.

o

r

.

too

few . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ too

easy

.

o

r

.

too

difficult

.

t

o

.

choose . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Too

much

.

o

r

.

too

little

.

t

o

.

prove . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ too

intent

.

o

n

.

using

.

o

r

.

being

used . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Too

intense

.

o

r

.

too

loose . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ too

eager

.

t

o

.

make

.

i

t

.

happen 

soon . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

If

you’re

going

.

t

o

.

race

around

madly

.

t

o

.

capture

romantic

moons,

–

–

you

better

.

d

o

.

it

soon,

–

–

while

.

t

h

e

.

days

.

a

r

e

.

new . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ you

better

.

d

o

.

it

soon,

–

–

before

.

i

t

.

becomes

“too” . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

know

–

–

it’s

me . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

know

–

–

it’s

me . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

know

–

–

it’s

me . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ it

.

i

s

.

not

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

everyone

.

h

a

s

. 

become

“too.”

Reflection: This was a romantic-themed poem that I wrote back in July of 2016 where the romancer begins to realize romances do not come as easy as they used to – because over time preferences, experiences, expectations, reservations, histories, judgements, and such tend to get in the way.

Welcome,

.

m

y

.

sweet

tangerine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ welcome

.

t

o

.

the

house

.

o

f

.

dreams . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

w

h

e

r

e

–

–

–

everything 

comes

.

s

o

.

effortlessly . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

everyone

seems

.

s

o

.

young,

.

s

o

.

serene,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

so

.

i

n

.

between . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ so

carelessly,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

laughingly,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

breathtakingly

–

–

free . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ just

.

y

o

u

.

wait,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

see . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Now,

–

–

come

.

w

i

t

h

.

me . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ you’ll

.

j

u

s

t

.

love

Ruby . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ well,

everybody 

does . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

that’s

really

.

w

h

a

t

.

I

think . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

I

believe

.

y

o

u

.

will

.

s

o

o

n

.

agree,

.

.

a

n

d

.

. 

see

–

–

exactly

.

w

h

a

t

. 

I 

mean . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

e

c

a

u

s

e

–

–

–

she’ll

wrap

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ she’ll

wrap

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

n

t

o

–

–

–

her

spider’s

web . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ her

spider’s

.

w

e

b

.

of

fanta ~ tease . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

gently

easing . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ gently

easing

–

–

chaos

.

i

n

t

o

.

clarity . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

bitter

.

i

n

t

o

.

sweet . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

worries

.

i

n

t

o

.

tranquility . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

when

.

s

h

e

.

becomes

breathless,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

restless

.

a

s

.

the

sea . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

taunting . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

teasing . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

appeasing . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

y

o

u

r

–

–

–

every

–

–

want

.

a

n

d

.

need . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

y

o

u

–

–

–

will

simply

–

–

never

wish

.

t

o

.

leave . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ you

.

w

i

l

l

.

never

wish

.

t

o

.

leave . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

when

.

y

o

u

.

do . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ yes,

when

.

y

o

u

.

do . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

t

–

–

–

will

probably

.

b

e

.

with

.

s

o

m

e

.

sense

.

o

f

.

serenity . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ with

.

a

.

passing,

–

–

peaceful

ease . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

.

w

i

l

l

.

recall

.

t

h

e

.

way

.

y

o

u

.

feel

–

–

again,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

again,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

again,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

again,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

again . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

the

haunting

.

w

i

l

l

.

keep

calling . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ the

haunting

.

w

i

l

l

.

keep

calling . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

calling

.

y

o

u

.

back . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

calling

.

y

o

u

.

back . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

calling

.

y

o

u

.

back . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

t

o

–

–

–

the 

house . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ to

.

t

h

e

. 

haunting 

house

.

o

f

.

dreams.

Reflection: This was a personal struggle-themed poem that I wrote back in July of 2016 where the affected party has the tendency to flirt with that which is bad for him or her – and gets repeatedly drawn into the deep. It seems this will be a lifelong, all-consuming struggle and that the affected party will never be able to escape the grasp of temptation, addiction, compulsion, and distraction.

I

knew

.

t

h

e

.

day

might

.

c

o

m

e

.

dawning,

–

–

when

.

y

o

u

.

would 

again

–

–

start

calling,

–

–

just

.

t

o

.

say . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

just

.

t

o

.

embrace . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

just

.

t

o

.

perhaps

someday . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

f

e

e

l

.

myself

leaning . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

f

e

e

l

.

myself

leaning . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

f

e

e

l

.

myself

leaning . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

closer

to

.

t

h

e

.

tease . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

closer

to

.

t

h

e

.

warming

ease . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

closer

to

.

t

h

e

.

haunting

memories . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

f

–

–

–

all

.

t

h

e

.

things

.

y

o

u

.

meant

.

t

o

.

me . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

I

will

.

S

W

A

L

L

O

W

.

your

intensity,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

!!LEAVE!!

–

–

–

.

.

.

leave

.

y

o

u

.

there

.

t

o

.

weep . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

leave

.

y

o

u

.

there

.

t

o

.

weep . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

leave

.

y

o

u

.

there

.

t

o

.

weep . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

me,

.

t

h

e

way

.

y

o

u

.

did

.

w

i

t

h

.

me . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ leave

.

y

o

u

.

there . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

tossing,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

turning,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

spinning,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

sinking . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

drowning

.

i

n

.

the

dream.

Reflection: This was a romantic-themed poem that I wrote back in January of 2016 where the affected party chooses a path of spitefulness and retaliation when a former romantic partner tries to reconnect.

I’m

sorry . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ what

did

.

y

o

u

.

say ?

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

must

.

h

a

v

e

. 

been

away . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

.

.

.

I

.

f

e

l

l

.

into

.

t

h

e

.

warmth

.

o

f

.

a

.

passing

glance . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I 

.

f

e

l

l

.

into

.

t

h

e

.

warmth . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I 

.

f

e

l

l

.

into

.

t

h

e

.

warmth . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I 

.

f

e

l

l

.

into

.

t

h

e

.

warmth

.

o

f

.

a

.

passing

glance . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

started

dreaming

.

o

f

.

the

dance.

Reflection: This was a short, simple romantic-themed poem that I wrote back in January of 2016 where the romancer gets swept away for a moment by another. I’ve had this kind of experience many times in my life, and I’m sure most everyone has.

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

just

what

.

i

s

.

the

color

.

o

f

.

my

mood ?

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

although

.

i

t

.

seems

.

t

o

.

move

.

s

o

.

soon . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

my

only

thought . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

my

only

joy . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

my

only

want . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

s

–

–

–

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

When

first

.

i

t

.

happened,

.

.

I

.

.

cannot

.

b

e

.

sure . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

I

cannot

discern . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

cannot

discern . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

whether

.

t

h

e

.

trace

.

o

f

.

words,

.

.

I

.

.

thought

.

I

.

heard

before,

.

.

w

a

s

.

.

the

turning

.

o

f

.

the

blur . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

r

–

–

–

the

blurring

.

o

f

.

the

turn . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

n

–

–

–

the

valleys

.

w

h

e

r

e

.

curiosity

stirs . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

n

–

–

–

the

valleys

.

w

h

e

r

e

.

uncertainty

burns . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

in 

quiet

passings

.

w

e

. 

suddenly

–

–

MERGED

MERGED

MERGED

–

–

into

the

–

–

BLUR

BLURR

BLURRR

–

–

of

the

–

–

URGE

URGE

URGE

–

–

of

.

t

h

e

.

deep,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

wild,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

winding 

turn . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ the

deep,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

wild,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

winding 

turn . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

merging 

into

.

t

h

e

.

blur . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ merging 

into

.

t

h

e

.

blur

.

o

f

.

the

urge . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ merging 

into

.

t

h

e

.

blur

.

o

f

.

the

unsure

.

a

n

d

.

insecure . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ of

.

t

h

e

.

words

.

I

.

thought

. 

I

.

heard

before . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

So

.

y

o

u

.

ask,

–

–

what

is

.

t

h

e

.

color

.

o

f

.

my

mood ?

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ well,

.

.

a

t

.

.

times

. 

i

t

.

blooms

.

i

n

t

o

. 

soothing,

–

–

romantic

moons,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

at

others,

.

.

a

.

.

dark,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

deep,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

brooding

blue . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

because

now . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

because

now . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

because

now . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

my

only

thought . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

my

only

joy . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

my

only

want

.

i

s

.

you.

Reflection: This was a romantic-themed poem that I wrote back in September of 2015 where the affected party meets someone he/she is highly attracted to who ends up absorbing and consuming much of his/her life throughout the days, weeks, and/or months of attraction. I’ve had a few experiences like this in my life as I’m sure most people have from time to time.

Please

take

.

a

.

seat

.

r

i

g

h

t

.

here

.

w

i

t

h

.

me,

–

–

overlooking

.

t

h

e

.

sea . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ the

sea

.

o

f

.

memory . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

where

only

–

–

soothing

silence,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

silent

soothing

–

–

speaks . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ where

only

–

–

soothing

silence,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

silent

soothing

–

–

speaks . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

although

.

w

e

.

cannot

.

q

u

i

t

e

.

perceive

.

t

h

e

.

whispered

words

.

o

f

.

peaceful

ease . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

w

e

–

–

–

can

.

a

t

.

least 

–

–

hear,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

feel,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

breathe

.

t

h

e

.

hint

.

o

f

.

what

.

s

h

e

.

means . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ a

hint

.

o

f

.

what

.

s

h

e

.

means . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Please

take

.

a

.

seat

.

r

i

g

h

t

.

here

.

w

i

t

h

.

me,

–

–

overlooking

.

t

h

e

.

sea . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ the

sea

.

o

f

.

memory . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Take

.

a

.

sip

.

o

f

.

the

.

warming

.

ease,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

simply

smile,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

be,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

drift,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

dream . . .

–

–

–

.

.

. 

right

.

here

.

i

n

.

peace

.

w

i

t

h

.

me.

Reflection: This was an inspiration/hope-themed poem that I wrote back in August of 2015 in reflection of the simple, soothing, peaceful ease quiet moments can bring.

It

.

i

s

.

not

.

what

.

w

e

.

believe . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

It

.

i

s

.

not

.

what

.

w

e

.

believe . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

It

.

i

s

.

not

.

what

.

w

e

.

believe . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t 

–

–

–

what

.

believes

.

i

n

.

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

what

.

believes

.

i

n

.

me . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

what

.

believes

.

i

n

.

everything

.

beyond

.

a

n

d

.

between . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ what

.

believes

.

i

n

.

everything

.

beyond

.

a

n

d

.

between . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

t

o

–

–

–

include

.

every

.

piece

. 

a

n

d

.

part

.

o

f

.

we . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

s

o

–

–

–

it

.

i

s

.

not

.

what

.

w

e

.

believe . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

It

.

i

s

.

not

.

what

.

w

e

.

believe . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

It

.

i

s

.

not

.

what

.

w

e

.

believe . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

It

.

i

s

.

not

.

what

.

w

e

.

believe . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

what

.

believes

.

i

n

.

we.

Reflection: This was an inspiration/hope-themed poem that I wrote back in April of 2015 to inspire a sense of hope, harmony, optimism, and belonging by shifting the focus from what we personally believe to what believes in us. So many hold so firmly to their individual beliefs which can be very divisive in nature and create a life of isolation, loneliness, and pessimism.

Today

.

I

.

.

f

e

l

l

.

.

into

.

t

h

e

. 

dreaming

rays

.

o

f

.

a

warming,

.

romantic

haze . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ of

.

a

.

passing

moment

.

I

.

hope

.

a

n

d

.

pray,

.

w

i

l

l

.

never

.

fade . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Were

.

y

o

u

.

able

.

t

o

.

feel

.

t

h

e

.

subtle

.

embrace . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ the

timid

touch

.

o

f

.

the

loving

gaze . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

although

.

n

o

.

words

.

w

e

r

e

.

exchanged,

.

.

they

.

w

e

r

e

.

gently

etched

.

upon

.

m

y

.

face . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

within

.

t

h

e

.

eyes

.

t

h

a

t

.

tentatively

. 

glanced

.

y

o

u

r

.

way,

.

.

b

u

t

.

.

could

.

n

o

t

.

say . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ no,

.

t

h

e

y

.

could

.

n

o

t

.

say . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

s

o

–

–

–

the

memory

.

f

o

r

.

now,

.

.

remains

.

upon

.

t

h

e

.

page

.

o

f

.

future

days,

–

–

where

.

i

t

.

will

.

sing,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

play,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

dance,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

sway . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

all

.

t

h

e

.

time

.

which

.

y

e

t

.

remains . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

like

.

s

a

n

d

.

castles

.

scattered

.

a

l

l

.

along

.

t

h

e

.

bay,

–

–

where

.

t

i

m

e

.

brings

forth

. 

opportunity

.

o

r

.

renewed

faith . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

builds

upon

.

t

h

e

.

charm,

–

– 

beauty,

–

–

magic,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

grace,

.

.

o

r

.

.

simply

washes

.

t

h

e

m

.

all

.

a

w

a

y

.

forever

.

t

o

.

join

.

t

h

e

.

torn,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

crumpled,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

tossed

.

a

w

a

y

. 

pages . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

f

–

–

–

far

.

off

.

a

n

d

.

fading

.

yesterdays.

Reflection: This was a romantic-themed poem that I wrote back in February of 2015 where a brief, subtle, but powerful romantic experience is encountered but only weakly secured – leaving the reader to wonder whether such experience might lead to something more powerful and substantial in the future. I’ve had several experiences like this in my life as I’m sure many others have.

Back

when

.

w

e

.

danced

among 

.

t

h

e

.

young,

–

–

romance

.

w

o

u

l

d

.

blossom

beneath

.

t

h

e

.

sun,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

linger

.

l

o

n

g

.

after

.

t

h

e

.

days

.

w

e

r

e

.

done . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ it

.

w

o

u

l

d

.

linger

.

l

o

n

g

.

after

.

t

h

e

.

days

.

w

e

r

e

.

done . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

it

.

w

a

s

.

easy 

.

t

o

.

become

absorbed

.

b

y

.

the

frolic

.

a

n

d

.

fun . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ easy

.

f

o

r

.

two

.

t

o

.

merge

.

i

n

t

o

.

one,

–

–

pledging

mutual

devotion

.

t

o

.

each

other’s

someone . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

those

were

.

t

h

e

.

days,

–

–

when

dreams

.

c

o

u

l

d

.

trust . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ those

were

.

t

h

e

.

days,

–

–

when

we

.

f

e

l

l

.

in

love

.

w

i

t

h

.

love.

Reflection: This was a romantic-themed poem that I wrote back in February of 2015 where the contemplator looks back on a time when the barriers to love and romance were low and easy to navigate. A brief, subtle, but powerful romantic experience is encountered but only weakly secured – leaving the reader to wonder whether such experience might lead to something more powerful and substantial in the future. I’ve had several experiences like this in my life as I’m sure many others have.