blog

  • The Burden of Strength

    The Burden of Strength

    “he burned with a fire that knew no end. His hands, broad and calloused,his heart, even more-so. He could twist and turn,push and pull,pound and punch,maul and mallet—his hands,instruments of labor,implements of intent. He could love, then lose,wish, then want,withstand, yet waver,give, yet get—his heart,a blazing furnace,yet a flickering flame. Celebrated for his hands’ craft,despised…

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  • Wrap God: Same Ol’ Ride, New Coat of Faith

    In this cell, my new pickle,Locked in like a riddle,God’s playin’ games, I’m in the middle,Brought a friend with a sickle. Prayin’ on my knees, beggin’ please,Countin’ sheep, no Zs, just disease,Woke up in this mess, no peace,Dreamt of freedom, but it’s all just tease. Warden’s screamin’, “Time’s up, son!”But I just sat down, just…

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  • Morning Beads, Endless Loop

    Morning Beads, Endless Loop

    armor against the daggers of the world I have these beads, worn smooth, heavy with the weight of grief, prayer beads, perhaps, oiled by the endless rolling through sprocket teeth, like fingertips tracing the edges of a forgotten dream. They lie in wait, recoiled upon a black lacquered table, ready to take their place at…

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  • Life’s commercial: A Moment’s Reflection

    “Life, it’s falling, stumbling, leaving marks…“ Life is a series of snippets—like 30-second commercials selling us narratives about ourselves, to ourselves, and to others. Saturday, Rainless. The day hung heavy with the promise of rain, yielding only sweat. I had been to Los Angeles, left a message, texted early, and answered your call with silence…

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  • “Crumbs, Concrete, and Canyon Capers: A Tale of Chaos and Lemon Bread”

      Good Morning  Yesterday was a fiasco that ended with me eating lemon bread in bed. Crumbs are everywhere, a clothes trail from the front door through the living room, bathroom, and finally next to the bed—the order of disrobing exactly opposite of what one might expect. I had bought a pallet of concrete blocks,…

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  • Morning Melody

    Morning Melody

      The pull… to push, With stenciled lettered tiles beneath these worn fingertips, Leads me back to you. As I recall, the night before, When you, my queen, Held court in a palace not our own, Yet made me feel at home.   A banquet feast served, My eyes locked on, The beauty, Chalice cup,…

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  • “The Cosmic Scrabble: Unraveling the Word Before the World”

    “In the beginning was the Word,” and boy, was it capitalized like it knew it was important! This Word isn’t just any word; it’s a symbol, a stand-in for everything from your coffee mug to your existential dread. Imagine, if you will, this Word was there before the thing it represents even existed. Like, did…

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