Even the very death breathed from your lips give me life.


Some Kind of Wonderful


And the beautiful thing about it is,
I love you.
Though I’ve never met you,
I already love you
I always have.
My life, has been a series of moments and events, preparing me for the rest of my life with you.
Hi, I’m glad we could finally meet.

My Search Continues…

For a venue I can go to where I can wear my own shoes and know that they are the right ones.
Where I don’t have to hold my tongue and not make a sound,
Or know that my hands are not bound
Where I can stand proud with my head — and not my hands — up
And have nobody frowning or looking down.
A place where I can rest easy knowing that I don’t have to stress seeking what I have already found.
A place where I don’t have to hide or pacify what’s inside,
But I can demonstrate it with pride.
I am not looking for a place that is perfect.
I am looking for a place that is mine.


For a decent period of time, I had stopped writing and performing poetry. The creative activity was pushed aside, apart from very special occasions. This poem, while only part of it stands here, was a piece that I wrote for the first time I performed at an open mic, and the first time performing in a few years. So while I don’t think the it is the greatest, it does hold special significance for me.

You are never too old to set another goal or dream a new dream – C.S. Lewis

You’re Alive

holding hand friend love close (21)
When I was a child my dad would count to five,
Say “you’re alive” and I would die –
of laughter of course – and be filled with so much joy.
I feel that way when I’m with you.
Even though I’m just a boy,
And you’re a girl, and we’re friends.
I think about the time that we spend together and I don’t want it to end.
End with you going home, with or to someone else.
If I could be honest – if I could find the words to speak,
If my hands would stop sweating and my stomach would return from my knees,
I would muster up the courage to let you know,
I think you and I
Should be.

Waiting to Breathe


As he steps through the branches and dried leaves, moves past the trees with ease,
he sees his means of ascent.
A set of steps,
waiting in silence,
as if they were holding their breath.
Patiently laying still until the thrill of being used was near.
And he,
he just wanted to be free.
To see life from the top of the mountain instead of the bottom of the valley.
Spent so much time down here.
He took grip of the rail and made his move.
The steps released their breath under his weight.
Exhaling, groaning, sighs of relief:
This is how it was meant to be…