June 23, 2010 § Leave a comment

out my eyes
looking for sleep.
dragging along
for work with no purpose.
heavy machinery
puts me to sleep.
why am i doing this?
what is the purpose?
i’ve been doing plenty,
and what products result
but tired?
nothing lasting.
folded laundry to be dirtied,
washed, and folded once more.
washed dishes,
if we are granted other meals,
will need to be washed
and the next day,
and on.
tuesday’s gone,
binary blurred
into background noise,
where is the joy?
in sleep.
crumbs to be swept of the floor
once more.
it’s got to be the heat.


June 22, 2010 § Leave a comment

i don’t have anything inside,
it’s all white light.
i don’t have anything outside,
it’s all in transit.

bounty hunter-gatherer

June 20, 2010 § Leave a comment

drop little seeds here and there,
come back to water when you remember,
wait for the rain.
the good one’s will grow,
they always grow,
and with much patience
and quiet admiration
the flowers will bloom.
when the fruit sags branches
and nearly falls to the ground,
therein lies the reward
for a passerby.
lord knows i’ve
had my share
of the bounties laid
by hands not my own.
palms up,
let’s chant grace
to the sun and moon.

the painter

June 18, 2010 § Leave a comment

up the ladder he goes,
brush and can in hand,
“write me a poem,”
he says,
while painting the wall.

he doesn’t know
– it’s my big secret –
that he is my poem.
he’s my painter, my muse,
my life-giving bread.
he sustains me,
supports and nourishes me.
most of all,
he brings the love.

without this
i do have doubts
my words would lack the sweets
imparted by these rose-colored glasses
i get to wear.

“and what’s he got to do with the glasses?”
you ask.

fair and true, here is your answer:
it is only that i asked a bold question myself,
and he is who answered the call.
i think if he hadn’t
i would be peering at life through a fouler lens.
i can’t say for certain,
but i know what happened
was for real,
and that’s what counts.

he climbs up the ladder,
blessings in hand,
“write me a poem,”
he sings,
while painting my soul.

a son is wonderful

June 16, 2010 § Leave a comment

when you have a son
the world means something different,
the word [boy] means something different:
son, sun.
light of my life,
love of my life,
enamored with what makes you different from me
because we used to be one and the same.


June 14, 2010 § Leave a comment

I read today.
I’m writing now.
I’ve been maintaining a presence,
albeit a faint one.
Parts of my life fade into the ether
as others emerge
off the back burner.
I’m ready to turn up the heat
and really get cooking.
Caramelized consonants,
alliteration a la mode,
the true taste of organic words on page
is pure nourishment for body, mind, and soul.

I’m hungry.

when the big wave comes, where will you be?

June 11, 2010 § Leave a comment

when the big wave comes, where will you be?
scrambling frantically to get inland,
peacefully waiting on the shore
with open arms,
welcoming the change
of existence?
i desire to listen closely
and let the others know
what the sea has to say.
i can translate.

i have a need to know the elements intimately,
as i was formed by their hands,
and at their behest i shall return
this body to them
to be broken down
and reconfigured
into something new
and more beautiful than i can currently imagine.

i want to meet my maker
before i’m called in for the final night.

mother nature brought me into the world,
and she will lead me out of it.

what a waste it would be
to wait to hear her secrets
when on my deathbed.
she is whispering her lullabies all the time.
i have a choice (oh, we always do…),

ignore the true pace of living while persuing material posessions,
slow down, breathe, and listen closely,
accepting the reality of the universe cradling me,
caring unconditionally, as i coast to sleep,
nestled in the world’s warm embrace.

my god is love

June 10, 2010 § Leave a comment

i am afraid of judgement.
i have not done anything wrong.
when you are up and i am down
it makes me terrified
to hear your booming voice
like your god’s thundering smite.
crush the little ant,
and when the little ant is up
and you are down,
what do you suppose he will do?
pick you up,
pick you up,
pat your back,
put you back
on the road.
my god is not a double-edged sword.
my god is not an angry god.
my god is love.

5 + 5 = 10

June 9, 2010 § Leave a comment

been shuffling the furniture like a deck of cards,
trying to find a better hand to play.
as the queen of this castle
i’ve kept busy knocking out pawns,
easy enough,
but as there are less and less players on board
each carries a greater weight,
a more significant impact;
their gravity pulls harder on my aura, my crown.

take your shoes off.
naked feet respond much better
to the healing vibrations
emitted from the molten center of this rock.

a heart beats heat
like nuclear energy.
consume and combust
your insides
all other souls.

that kind of thing lingers
long after we are gone.

somebody else
may sit on your couch
brussels sprouts
and contemplating the reasons
for his seat being warm
before he even though
of sitting down

dust covers eyes
and lends a crunchy, complex coating
to the skies.


June 8, 2010 § Leave a comment

There are two doors before me,
both green, both beautiful.

I can keep going straight ahead
on my current path
of the heart,
but that door is closed.
I have no guarantee about what lies beyond.
All I have is my faith in myself
that I am doing my best.

The other door,
just off to my left,
has been left ajar
by the many passing through it,
enough so for me to see
the treasures held within.
Worldly jewels and joyful baubles,
yes, this path has caught my eye
many a time.
It is always present, always tempting,
always tempting me away from the present
moment on my plain path
of hard inner alchemical work.

A few steps over is all it takes
to change direction.
How quickly things do change.
Winds blow, rains bowl me over,
but I keep climbing on.
Something tells me
there are truths I’m not seeing
behind that second door.
An obscured, messy drama
awaits to pounce on me
if I cave to those shiny sirens.

Keep climbing on and on,
though the path is unkempt,
the door is closed, no guarantee,
but this is the way for me.

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  • About

    Hi, I'm Q, I'm the dreamer here, and I'm holding space for you to learn to hold your own. My philosophy on life is that you should always go for the delicious and give everything one-hundred percent. Writing is like breathing to me - this is my place for occasionally-poetic-stream-of-consciousness illiterature. I'm here to wear holes in the soles of your soul, so get in, let's roll!

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