I want to fold myself into nothing.
Like a tiny origami crane that flies too close to the sunset and it burns up.
Ashes falling to the sea.
I'd love to be forgotten like so many shipwrecks beneath the water.
Omit me from any story I have touched, and let me be done.
Let the last time my name is vocalized be at my funeral.
Silence in the pews that sit so empty. Haunted by the ghosts of past- wounds constantly ripped open once more.
Let me be abandoned like so many times before, surely evolution will work out the pain of a heart breaking.
To feel nothing.
To be nothing.
It is how I have always existed.
Onyx heart oh how it breaks
Red eyes cry painting face
Indigo tears feeling blue
Given best years to you
Amethyst soul once had hopes
Melted away like candle gold
Innermost turmoil loss of sleep
Hope a red river draining me
Emerald eyes that hypnotize
Accompanied by lavender lies
Ruby words that flatter me
Turquoise bird flying free
paper promises
fold me like origami
jilted wedding dream
Written: July 20, 2026, for a contest sponsored by Sara Kendrick
**************
Aged roots are the genesis of the river's wind,
Fallen leaves, a spectral potpourri design.
Cold celestial course traced by tides behind,
A gentle breeze swirls the silver origami line.
Wistful choir zithers revive the mossy floor,
Hum in zephyr, a bucolic rhapsody spree.
Tides come back to batter the rocky shore,
Forest floor, unfurled ferns—green filigree.
Pinecone packs its spirals deep and tight,
A sequence written before time began.
We wake to follow tracks of winter's sight,
And employ the wild pattern for a plan.
Hold me in your heart like an origami swan
and let the moonlight breathe me into being;
hold me in your heart like an origami swan~
a spell half-heard when ancient tides move on.
In silver hush I drift beyond all seeing,
and let the moonlight breathe me into being;
hold me in your heart like an origami swan,
and let the moonlight breathe me into being.
origami skills
much in demand
~ artful paper folds
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
here I stand waiting
balanced on the edge of time
past draped at my back
the future creases forward
a bloom yet to be folded
creases cross the sheet
the past bends, then re-creases
future folds to match
both entwine though never meet
a puzzle time enlightens
like petals rising
origami takes its form
each wedge takes its place
a flower blooms in the room
unfurling in happenstance
paper remembers
each valley, each mountain path
trails of where I've been
ghosts of futures not yet lived
hidden in the pleated sedge
tilted polygons
wedges stacked in helical
time loops on itself
a structure both flat and vast—
endless bloom of folded space
each crease is a breath
a moment held in silence
each fold, a new path
unfolding from edge of time—
flowers blooming come alive
Nature is calling,
your hips swaying.
A light snowfall takes
place in a winter
breeze.
The footprints of a doe
and her fawn grace the
land in fragments.
Broken bits of
grass poke out
from where they
were last seen, in
brown, sticky
patches.
A moose,
a rabbit,
a raccoon—
resting, rejuvenating,
saving their strength.
Birds chirp,
wolves howl.
I close my eyes
and know I’ve
made it.
Did you make it
to Italy, sparrow?
For I am yet to
make it there.
I wish
you well.
pleats and folds
a winged makeover ~
sleight of hands
AP: 3rd place 2025
Don’t fold me on-the-fold,
on the crease well-marked.
I’m tired of swans and cranes,
of being shaped into
your cookie cutter shapes,
pressed into the dough.
Let me be the mirrored sea.
The tranquil lake of high country.
The field of grass at dawn,
undisturbed by quake of breeze.
Let me be the elixir scent of flowers,
untainted by stench of memories.
The blue sky reaching to the far horizon,
with no hint or tint of clouds.
Let me be the pure fresh page,
you turn, flat nascent smooth,
for your Origami.
folds in a napkin
paper crane come to life
memories of you
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
origami folds
become a vessel crafted
suspect of high seas
AP: 2nd place 2025
Cast him not in bronze,
Nor sculpt in pottery clay,
Lay down the chisel
Where the marble bust holds sway.
Better to fold paper
In the Origami play,
So when fame has died,
He can quickly blow away.
White wings fly from fingertips.
A white swan held up to the sun
illumines the eye.
Paper flowers velum vanilla
perfumed.
Cupped hands
flowering in the air.
Almost weightless,
almost real,
almost living,
when in the hand
fluttering
or blooming.
With nowhere else to turn,
I'm driving this defective time machine off a cliff
I'm the lead detective but I'm off this case
If blankets and pillows can harmonize as weapons,
Then consider this a sleep of faith
A gas mask couldn't save me from this room you've filled
with tantalizing radiation you call a breath of fresh air
Brothers from different smothers
And I know that life is short
But with all this going into my lungs,
I might as well take a hit to get there first
And I know that life isn't fair
But brothers in control together, stay together
And in a race to my lungs,
I know what could get there first
And in a race to my ears,
I know you would lay your curse
on thicker and cozier
than a wolf in sheep's clothing
And moving forward without knowing
Is looking like my ticket out of this hell hole
If your goal was for me to fear you,
You won in the wrong way
I only fear the that I'll grow further out of this
And unfasten this mask
And pump my breathing tubes with a heavy dose of ignorant bliss
Which we both know is just your poison in lavenders clothing
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