On-the-go-poetry entry #17
"Solely" fell into the depths only to emerge anew my strength my rebirth lies alone with you.
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On-the-go poetry entry #16
"In Between" Where would I go? North or South? And in which direction? East or West? How could I? Without you in between? What would I know? From left to right? And how they differ? From up to down? How could I? Without you in between? Regardless what No matter when Despite where Forget how I am only able with you in between .
On-the-go poetry entry #15
"Who?" The only one you can count on The only one you can trust The only one you can The only one you The only one The only Y O U
On-the-go poetry entry #14
"Hydration Potpourri" I love standing on cold ceramic while the water is hot my condensation ecstasy I love standing on warm world while the rain is cold my precipitation serenity I love standing in mild mist while the vapor is thick my hydration potpourri I love standing in medium mizzle while the air is thin my transpiration clarity I love standing in sultry shower while the drizzle is dreary because it cleanses me
On-the-go poetry entry #10
"Where I'm At" Maybe I'm depressed I'm spiraling Trying to smile through I think I'm making a mess Maybe it's just me I'm stressed With all these changes Feeling to an excess Maybe I'm just searching For answers I should avoid To questions I think I'm supposed to suppress And I confess I cannot blame you It's all gotten so crazy It's all so hard to digest And someday I hope we make it So we can look back At all our progress But, nonetheless I'm sorry I think It's just where I'm at
On-the-go poetry entry #9
"The Canary" The Canary Who built her own cage around her Built it so strong Propped and polished Until it became her home The Canary Who built her own cage around her Sang in her cage Precise and proud Until it became her prison The Canary Who built her own cage around her Remembered beyond it Far and infeasible Until it became her escape The Canary Opened her sunshine wings and soared Until gone was the cage that confined her
My First Love and a Childhood Gone By
In my experience, memories of a first love can be fickle. They seem to morph with the passage of time. Sometimes, the memories glow with pristine preservation. Sometimes, they wither and fade. For me, they often come in dreams. Nonetheless, they always tend to make me happy, reminding me of carefree days gone by.
Father to (almost) Father: An Ode to my Dad
With fatherhood only a few days away, I really wanted to sit down and take time to reflect on my life experience. How did I define fatherhood? What does being a dad actually look like? How does that relationship work? In order to answer those questions, I turned to the best example in my dad. The following is what I was able to come up with, plenty of thank-yous included.