poem – Page 11 – Coffee Shop Sessions

Christmas 2020

we hold those we love closer in these dark times to feel the warmth, the love, the light. but you i love the most, i’ll always dream of holding you close once again. to hear your words whispered back in the deep of the night.
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Simple Thoughts

writers ponder over verses but words become mystified, inadequate. where other poets generously use adjectives and sweet metaphors to describe the mysteries of life, i have the simplest of thoughts: i think of you, i think of us, i think of our love, and i think we’ll be alright.
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Breathe Again

out of darkness the night sky sparkles above as a sailor’s friend reminds all of its surrounding splendor. the twinkling is the same as it’s always been but brighter than we’ve allowed ourselves to see. somewhere across the horizon, underneath the same vast sky you’ve been thinking of me and at last, we can finally…
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Change in Vocabulary

I need to change my vocabulary, remove the apologies & negativities, peel back the layers of insecurities. I’ve wrapped myself in them for so long, years of comfort built in the hiding. Yet each layer peeled back leads to discoveries, why certain layers were brought on at all. He recognizes them, understands them & slowly…
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In Solidarity

He looks to the left, a quick pause to check the commotion. There’s shouting crying out on the street. Stomping boots, signs in hand. It’s another day, another protest, nothing to worry over. She questions him, “What’s happening?” It could be anything, or nothing at all. They want attention and this is the day they…
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Have You Noticed

After Mary Oliver have you noticed how certain poems linger in the echoes of yesterday how certain triggers replay a certain phrase how hanging onto words engulfs an empty room how walking through fields begets velvet moonlit nights listening to you how spinning a record after dropping a needle births a mountain of longing and…
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Don’t Walk In Anger

I twist in the night, in anger. I wake in the morning, in anger. I know the dreams are just dreams but the aching is tangible, it’s at the forefront that I can’t shake. It’s too early to feel this way, with holes punctured through the heart. A feeling that I’ve been used as target…
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You’re So Sentimental

he says as it relates to a date of another first we’ve had. It reminds me of things I shouldn’t hold onto. It shouldn’t matter when I first noticed the way light hits his beard, or how his colors blend as in a Monet, only that I see them. It shouldn’t matter when those butterflies…
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Who Has Your Tongue

I mull over the quietness,the licking of thoughtscollected and trapped inside,blocking airwaves. Only things that escapeare the redirects,anything to take the focusoff of what can’t be seen. They’ll have to perform surgeryto get this out of me.
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It Can Be Wonderful and Terrible, But It Always Tickles the Right Spot

The way grey hits the wooly fibers across his chin, like individual spikes of a wheel poking in multiple directions, with fusing colors like a Monet. I graze my fingers through the fibers like walking through cornfields with long, mysterious paths that lead to depths I long to uncover. He rests his hand upon his…
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