I wrote these poems during college, some of them for class and others just because I wanted to. Two of the poems, Battleland and Pendulum, I wrote post-college but are included here in this collection.

Replicas Are A Burden

Words on the screen
another instant message
like a diamond ring
turning out to be cubic zirconium.
Reminiscent of the words
you said to me the night
I asked if you cared.
“Of course, we’re dating.”
Yet your voice betrays
and all I hear is a weight
pulling down a hot air balloon
A week goes by we barely talk
yet somehow manage
to fling words at each other
eventually shattering
our crystal imitation.

Mind Remains the Shadow

Hair dark brown, almost black
like the Earth’s shadow that
hugs her so tightly, until the
street lights betray the night
revealing light brown hair
with streaks of red
blowing back melding
bangs with ponytail.
Shadows embracing again
she continues to walk
a smile on her face;
freckles glide as leaves
on a serene lake,
until street lights betray
revealing tears staining cheeks.

A Minute on a Ride Back from Lincoln

A teardrop caught up
in the depths of the ocean;
stars creating depths
that my mind dives through
while my body remains
on the beach in a shell
until the low humming
of the car pulls me back
and I can see the blurred
signs fly past me
while the music beats
The veracity of the road
has taken me again.

Walking Through the Cafeteria

paranoia sets in
a million ideas hit me at once
sieging my mind
with thoughts hurling
from trebuchets
and catapults
and me without defense
how long does each step take
each painful step
each hurried step
each distracted step
wanting to surrender
wanting to choke on tears
wanting to escape
but I do not
will not
can not
so instead I take another step
a painful step
a hurried step
a distracted step

A Modern Lie

Sensation rising inside
of a stomach,
bubbling up by
the heat of trepidation.

A week later he’ll be
fine, but now he’s
without
enough reason
to care.

Years down the
inevitable road,
he’ll create the
facade of a
modern household,
even while the divorce
papers are signed
and he’s catapulted
into mechanical patterns.

A few more years pass
and now he’s officially
disconnected from sensation,
going out each night
to find orgasm.

Then with the same
ecstasy of his
empty ejaculations
he’ll point the gun
to his temple.

However, right now
at this moment,
in order to look cool
he’ll ask her out.

The Tower

Every great fantasy
has a tower.

This tower is trapped with
egocentric words; released
into the cell by adolescent mind.

However, there is an attempt at
a journey. Sadly the tower
swallows them.

The tower is either dark
or light.

this one is surrounded
by night, illuminated inside
by electric glow, yet
mind trapped in shadow.

The souls wait for the poem
that will ride on a white horse
to save them.
However, all that is
created are beggars
with serrated daggers.

Battleland

This is where I'm going.
This is where I'm going.
This is Battleland.
This is where I stand…

This is where I'm going….
… where I'm going.
This is Battleland.

Where are you now?
Falling to the ground….
Can't say I'll die,
Though this might be a lie…

This is where I'm going, this is Battleland.
Light or dark, doesn't matter.
This is where I end.
And I end.

Crimson displays are coming from my facade.
Holes lined up in my heart,
Lying to myself never felt so real.

So where is this Battleland?
Don't want to sleep, want to fly…
But I'm tired, too tired.

Pendulum

At times,
It is like I am the most awake
And the most asleep.
As if sitting there on a pendulum.
A dreamer
A player.