Plight of Obsession | Poem

the phoniest of flattery the most lascivious of lies the cacophony of coquettish ramblings: all are the plights of an unreciprocated obsession, not born out of love, but of rabidly ill intent. ~ Sammicakes

queen in a clock at 6

Never mind your potential. Never mind your sacrifices and courage. Never mind your hours of work and diligence and persistence. Never mind the time it took and the tears it took and the friendships it took and life it took. Mind it no more. It’s time for you to look beautiful and gaze upon the…

Stairs to a Gaze | Poem

Put down in a pasture Meandering tongues and hands Counting, counted, and counting on more Never once thought of again, never spoken henceforth. – A time and temple of thought and solitude, more of bitterness and less of love Now just a deserted place that no person should enter Wondering, wondered, and wondering again Divine…

The Sad Man’s Rambles | Of Christmas and Stuff

Of Christmas and Stuff The man knew a few things for certain. He was no Scrooge. He was no Grinch. But he sure as heaven knew that he was no Santa. He didn’t mind the fact that at the tender age of four his parents had told him that Santa was a nonexistent being, one…

Boy in a Well | Part 1

There would be moments where I would find time to be  alone. I leave the cabin and sit along the river bank and toss stones into the water. It was nice, nice to think about anything and do nothing.  For most of my life, I was an only child. That changed two weeks ago. It’s…

Overboard | Poem/Song

If you’re sad and feeling sober Just let me know, let me know. Or else I’m going over, going overboard, because this ship can’t contain your grievances– my condolences. – I’m going overboard sinking with the water where the pressure cracks my bones and I don’t have to listen to you or think of you….

Things Do Not Change, We Change | Laws of Life Essay

I have always been a person that notes change. Frankly I’m not sure if I love or hate the breaking of my habitual routine or of my consistent thoughts and judgements; nonetheless, it is still fascinating to me. Thoreau’s quote is like a remedy to my younger self’s question about how people gain or lose…

for now, i’m not enough | poem

i’m not beautiful enough to know you you’re too good to look at me. – is this what you think of me? or is it what i think you think about me? it’s too late. i can’t change. there’s no point to redo. i move on, i give up, and i’m gone. i move on,…