Missing Mornings Reprise | Poem

I go to bed at night and sleep until the afternoon Always missing the sun when it’s birthed and new I keep sleeping through the day and I’m yearning for more I’m missing mornings I’m missing time in gaps and spaces My life is a blip, memories getting shipped away to another galaxy– I’m missing…

Cottagecore | Poem

Pheasants and finches sun-dappled meadows and delicate wishes fulfilled by the dream of self-isolation. Not yet nostalgic not yet the present but instead a dream idyllic that a more kind world would let come to fruition. ~ Sammicakes

train at six | poem

tie your laces feel the beads of sweat stuck to your skin look at the slowly sinking afternoon sun the harsh feel of crushed rock beneath your exposed knee and then hear the sound– that sound you had only ever heard in the stillness of deep night hear the train tremble on its track some…

strawberry whipped cream | poem

a silly nostalgia poem. enjoy! I remember a few years ago when I was rather young we went to the state of Florida and played for awhile in the sun. Then my aunt showed me inside the cold aisles of a store a tub of pink whipped cream I said it looked delicious and then…

anecdotal existence

I wonder if nothing would have happened if I didn’t know about it. How life would have been different if I was ignorant to the issue. ~ Sammicakes

night and all | poem

night and all the sounds that wander night and all the weird things you can conjure night and all the bad thoughts that fester night and all the dreams you plan night and all the good memories from the past night and all the visions you see night and all the music you listen to…

Dark Angel in Lonesome Town | Dark Hero

Everything was dark and quiet except for the ghostly call of the man (now very far away) and the faint plucking of his strings, singing:
“Maybe down in lonesome town, I can learn to forget…”

I Am From Long, Ebony Nights (Nostalgia Poem)

An old poem I wrote in August of 2016. A relaxing night-time read~ ~~~~ I am from long, ebony nights and bright, sunlit mornings Awakening in time to see the blue light filter through my windows I am from places of enchanted emerald forests and elephant graveyards Exploring until my lungs and legs cannot cope…