Three poems

a poem written three times, each version has its own distinct story, while a line or two remains the same.


heeding the pull
of my heart,
messengers of truth
warned us from the start

spoken dreams know
their own curse,
silencing them now
timepieces have reversed

our covert love
begged for air
as buried keepsakes
pained to be bare

our connection:
seductive,
aimless; as we weep,
counterproductive


failed to ignore the
pulls on my heartstrings
after attempts to neglect
repeatedly listening

intimate poetry, I know
every verse
returning to it again now,
timepieces have reversed

like seagulls flocking
along the breeze
deep magenta love
floated out to the sea

what started this connection
with a seductive whisper
fell asleep
with a silent whimper


sprouting from the underground,
reaching for the light,
messengers of truth
tell us the news

spoken dreams
awaken us now,
emboldened by our own worth,
timepieces have reversed

our covert existence,
like buried keepsakes
begged for air,
pained to be bare

our struggles,
spotlight moments in
Hollywood movies; as we weep,
the only way we’ll be seen

the dust
has not yet settled
we will not give up
until each of us is handed
a golden cup,
a symbol of worth
a symbol that we are
no longer defeated,
we are the new leaders

Writer’s Block Strikes Again

Gather your jumbled up thoughts
jot down some fleeting words
numerous adjectives,
superlatives, and delicious nouns

Describe the scene
a setting to explain
it most certainly could be this
only it could be better

Conjure up a lost love
hint at a depth of longing,
desire, fulfillment, and regret
but give yourself some credit

Leave your readers with faith:
love eventually wins
love yourself enough to see
your words are what keeps them waiting

In a Sea of Lonely Nights

A lonely boy in a sea of lonely nights
in that last hour of the day
capturing words he wishes he had said
writing them down
so they’re out of his head

Music fills the air
soothing the tension
lessening the cares

Take a trip to the other side:
what makes the other person tick,
what makes them come alive,
what’s in their head they’re trying to hide

While reaching out for a connection
lost and longing for attention
it’s someone in his bed
that doesn’t know the depths
of the tears he’s shed

But it’s still a mystery;
where did it all go wrong
was it this way all along

Thousands of poems captured on those lonely nights
but not a one could do
when it’s just not you


Listen to more of my poems on SoundCloud
This poem, along with others, can be found in my book Coffee Shop Sessions II: Moving Mountains One by One

A Story of Hope

Photo by Suzy Hazelwood on Pexels.com

A writer yearns to tell their story, any story,
that will stand the test of time
full of hardships conquered
and inspire generations with hope.

The story shall feel whimsical,
not so much with fairies dancing
but that there is a happy ending.
The story shall have brevity,
not so much as a long weathered tale
but one that details just enough.

The story shall be one that others dream of
and inspire even the darkest ones with hope.

The depth of emotion shall brighten the skies.
The cutting edge shall be sharp as a fresh-cut sword.
Giving what many have lacked.
Inspiring strength to withstand.

Readers everywhere want a story, any story,
because our story is yearning for hope.

Words at Night

All the words to say
The sad ones
The lonely ones
The grateful ones
The mad ones
They circulate through you
But never leave your lips
Raging out onto paper
For all to read
But the ones closest to you
Will never see
Those words escape effortlessly

Words poured out late at night
And splayed across the light of day
Words that others will relate
And make others feel safe
That they too feel the same way
Words that will make you give ‘Thanks,
Thanks for today’

So use your words
Use them wisely
Share them with those you love
Share them with your friends and family
Share them with the world
Let them see
Just what you feel
Spark them with your electricity