The Box (a poem)

The Box

Written January 2nd, 2013

In my house, there is a box.

The box is mine, and in it I hide

When the house gets too loud

Filled with shouts and tension

Gossip and anger

When it’s too much on the outside

I shut the door on my box

And fill it with tears.

But it’s just cardboard

Very flimsy, very thin

Through its paper walls

I can still hear the agitated din.

Turn up music

Stuff cotton in my ears

Even when it’s quiet

I can still feel the scars

From all the dysfunctional years.

The Tale of a Sailor's True Love (a poem, a dedication)

The Tale of a Sailor's True Love

Written February 25th, 2012

Many long years ago in a time of old

A goddess of unparalleled beauty ruled the sea

She alone brewed the storms and caused waves to fold

Sailors both loved and feared her dangerous beauty

The goddess delivered from the waves and her gentle breath

A daughter of her own creation, the fairest maiden

She walked upon the earth, a mortal vulnerable to death

Her beauty far surpassed her mother’s, who regretted what she had laiden

For no longer was the ocean spirit the object of lore

Her daughter traveled the lands, moving with a greater grace

It was her that all the men of the world came to adore

In all of history there was no more stunning a face

Lessons from Sheba

Lessons from Sheba

Written January 8th, 2012

There is one person in particular that I know I could never forget, even if I made an effort. She was present in my life for almost my entire childhood, from when I was a year old until she passed away when I was thirteen. When I remember her, all I can do is smile and shake my head, still amazed to this day that massive influence she had on me as a child.

            One of my most cherished memories is when Sheba helped me overcome my fear of the dark. Growing up, I lived next door to my grandparents. Sometimes my mom would ask me to fetch provisions from their house when we ran out of things, like milk or sugar. When she asked at night, it was all I could do not to cry. I would run as fast as I could to Grandma’s house and back, convinced I could hear some awful monster pursuing me as I ran. When I darted up the porch stairs, I imagined grotesque, slimy, clawed hands reaching out from under the porch to grab my ankles.

One summer night, my family and I were sitting on the porch, just relaxing and talking. I looked out across the field and saw that it was full of fireflies, and I had the urge to catch them. But of course, my fear of the dark stood in my way. The field was a long way away from the comforting light of the house, and handling a flashlight and catching fireflies simultaneously would be cumbersome. But I was determined to go firefly hunting. So, I asked Sheba to come with me, knowing her presence would comfort me. Mom and Dad would be keeping a vigilant watch form the porch too.

(Raise Your Voice) Things I Never Had (a poem, dedication)

Raise Your Voice

Things I Never Had

Written  February 4th, 2012

I dream of things I never had

On this freezing lonely night

As I cling to this life so fleeting and sad

Without these dreams I’d have no will to fight

And I’d be stiff and cold by morning light

I dream of fields, sprawling and green

Soft plumes of grass beneath weary, cracked foot pads

Forests and skies that stretch to eternities unseen

A family full of love, always glad

Each night a big warm meal to be had

I’ll make it through each long, painful day

On a stomach with no food and a heart with no love

On shaky legs and a mind that’s begun to decay

I’ll survive till dusk touches the grey sky above

So I can sleep and briefly enjoy the things I’ve been dreaming of

Seasonal Spirit (a poem)

Seasonal Spirit

Written October 1st, 2011

The cold surrounds a small house

Moving in with surprising, silent speed

Fingers of frost reach across the window pane

A warm orange glow radiates from the other side

A family gathered around a friendly hearth

Holding back the cold and keeping it tame

With mugs of steaming cocoa at their side

And loaves of toasty pumpkin bread

Fresh from the stove; they keep good mirth

The children huddle on the floor of blankets

Proud parents on the couch holding each other

Looking on with a quiet smile

The cat perches on a shoulder

And the large dog squeezes into a lap

As they smile and laugh they seem not to notice

That outside it only gets colder

Little Brother (a poem, a dedication)

Little Brother

Written September 18th, 2011

Little brother

Chase me around the house

Jump and tackle

Trying to take me down

Push my homework

Out of your way

Scatter papers across the floor

Unplug my game

Right when I was about to win

Then stand there and look at me

With that lopsided grin

The Light in the Fog (a poem)

The Light in the Fog

Written June 20th, 2011

I can see you there

Shimmering somewhere in the shifting abyss

Inviting me with little hands

Materializing, then with a twirl disappearing

Leaving my heart warm

And my cheeks full with a smile

I hang on to this flickering daydream

Like the sunshine dancing on the ocean waves

Caretaker (a poem, dedication)

Caretaker

Written April 18th, 2011

His body is scarred and battered

From a life of hard work and toil

He doesn’t complain; the pain, it never mattered

So long as the table had bread, milk, and potatoes in the foil.

The House on the Hill (a poem)

The House on the Hill

Written April 13th, 2011

There is a house atop a hill

Lonely on the outskirts of town

The windows cracked, the shadows still

The vines crawl

And the grass is tall

Nature is claiming it back; running it down

*Sweet Baby (a poem, intended lyrics, dedication)

Sweet Baby

Full of innocence and beauty

I wish you could see

All the smiles that you brought

And all the hearts that you caught

In your little hands

The sparkle in his eye

As he told me of you