Moon shadows
danced
a partnerless
waltz
As the sun
lay asleep
in its
cave
Sashaying
in place
to flirt
in the night
Spinning
and twirling
alone
on parade
To dance
until morning
when light
will emerge
And usher
them
into
the past
Where time
beats a
cadence
its metronome wound
With only
the
music
— to last
(Dreamsleep: October, 2026)
The school suspended three guys
for their bald-faced lies
Justice is compromised
if the punishment’s a prize
I'd been dead only an hour
And yet they'd already moved on
Already bid good riddance and closed the coffin
Their words fake, their thoughts sour.
I'd been dead only a day
And yet the maggots picked at my flesh
But couldn't bear to devour my scars
My rejected mistakes untouched, I lay
I'd been dead only a week
But my carcass was left hollow
All but my delusions accepted by nature
The soil murmuring my legacy, a freak.
I'd been dead only a month
My grave stayed bare
weather taking its toll
Id believed people cared, once
I'd been dead only a year
Or was it two now?
You lose yourself when your whole world forgets you
Or when you become the very thing you fear
Who are you without their thoughts
Who are you without your mistakes
Who are you without your legacy
Who are you without someone who cares
Were you ever alive without someone to remember you?
Were you alive when no one saw you?
Are you alive if no one sees you?
Will you be?
Longing for you fell upon my lines,
Staining the pen-strokes a shade of green;
Your color spread across the page,
And your eyes revealed that singular meaning.
Letters aligned themselves with precision,
Standing in rows like soldiers;
Words embraced within my heart,
Filling the pages of my notebook.
My eyes counted the pages gone by—
Pages that wrote of nothing but you;
The poet fell silent,
As the words spoke only of you.
They aren't the key to anything
But they put the key in your hand
Nothing to unlock or access
You may wobble
But you'll still stand....
Could you stand it?
To be alright-
To be ok without being
When you plan it
You build a kite
Untethered to what you're seeing.
Poverty stole the sky from us,
but childhood gave us wings.
God only visited at Christmas,
on the wings of a blue Cessna,
brought by the owner of the farm—and of our souls.
One day a year, God saw me.
I met her in the dark, her breath like stone,
A predator carved from some vast unknown.
Her gaze a weight, a grave of quiet fire,
Unchained from what the mortal soul could own.
There are no pacts where lions tread the dust,
Their truth is claw and silence, raw and just.
Yet still, I stand, a fool before the shrine,
My blood a whisper, offering ash and trust.
Each word she gives is fanged, with edges sharp,
Her laughter hums, a brutal, hollow harp.
The ache inside me folds beneath her grin,
As though her teeth could sever guilt and harp.
No common bond; no mortal tie can weave
This force of ruin clutching hearts to cleave.
Still, from her weight, I breathe an alien calm,
A portrait burned in charcoal, fierce to leave.
Her truth is art, the savage kind, unbound.
I wear its scars, a silent battleground.
No treaties hold, no hand can tame her core,
Yet in her chaos, I find something profound.
There are no pacts where men and lions meet,
Our truths collide, a thrum, a lethal beat.
In mirrored fangs, I howl my darkest self,
And let her teeth consume my soul, complete.
I stepped out yesterday,
with no money for food,
no money for rent.
Only a T-shirt, jeans, and shoes,
that's enough, I told myself.
In my bag, my laptop,
my copies, my pen.
I am writing two things now,
one book, Always Go Up,
and one novel about my life.
I have nothing in my hands,
but I have a dream in England,
to become a PhD doctor.
I don't know how I will pay,
I don't know how I will eat,
but I know I will make my dream come true.
Putting all our effort,
Into building ourselves a fort,
Will few problems sort,
If unlocking the gate does not seem worth the effort,
When others won't come out of their fort,
Afraid to trust anyone to guard their port,
When they leave their fort
To drink our port,
And toast another good sort.
I want to tell her how I feel
But I don’t know what to say
I’m confused if I have the slightest will
For sure I know she will be bae
I love her so much my chest hurts
Knowing this why even bother
The love for her could be seen on my shirt
Needing her to understand im not here to smother
Glowing skin, golden hair in locks nothing I can stop
But why would I; if it’s beautiful to me
I would love her till I rot
This life with her I want and need it to be
She is my motivation and my righteous spirit
Makes me strong and more confident by the day
As beautiful and smart as she is she deserves every merit
I love her in every way
One day we’ll be one of the same mind
Never feeling hurt again especially this time
Only birds know,
The Nature of Time,
The merle, the seagulls,
Everyone knows her,
The snail also knows
The nature of time,
Slowness is very useful,
The beautiful deer, too
know this nature,
He mates every season,
The elephant also knows
The nature of time, which passes,
He controls his power,
The turtle doesn’t like it
Let us have manners,
She’s nodding her head,
The butterfly, finally
Knows his misfortune,
His days are numbered.
Only the man runs after Time.
we are meant for meaning
the stars that scatter the skies
are not an empty existence
they plead for significance
demand some purpose
therein we are
far from the Crown of Creation
fallible as such
a nucleus in search of
my only desire at this juncture
contemplate the heavens above
and be found worthy of this gift
Oregon 9/9/26
Do I write from the heart? Do I write as a song?
This voice inside is so far from all wrong.
For once in this life, in these hills that I roam,
I'm not afraid to give my new love a home.
It hasn't been gold, nor grand open plains,
Life was atop this high rocky range—
Learning to do at a half-lived age.
Now, it's all different; the spoils are all gone.
But the wings are all spread, as the wind lifts the dove,
Higher, and higher, above,
To bask in the sky where I feel totally new.
Love is atop of the cool mountain view,
Where I'm in love with you, too.
Now the pair of white doves will soar,
On to the place we've never been to before.
A beautiful freedom that belongs just to us,
With a wide-open sky soaring only for love.
- Debra
The emptiness
between
all thought
is a siren
Life
only gives birth
in cogent
reflection
Her wasteland
is dark
if she traps
you outside
Distilling
the distance
between
body and soul
Neither coming
nor going
existence
implodes
Neither coming
nor going
the schism
explodes
Neither coming
nor going
all motion
is dead
Neither coming
nor going
only madness
— remains
(Dreamsleep: September, 2026)
I only saw the monster everyday
he ruined every single day
the pain i felt when you broke her down
Hit, swing , punch!
Each time tears automatically ran down
you stole the joy...run not a sound
Fear to flight ....clost space
Hands over ears, close my eyes
Make the monster go away
My dolls necks cut...crossed out eyes
a child 2, 3, 4, 5 years old
saw the monster scar my face
torn soul now grown
My story of the monster
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