And Who Wants to Be Insane?

Life was never so crazy.
But we pretend that it is
so we can feel comforted.

We deny our vulnerability,
object to our instabilities.
We are apt to blame life
for we could never hold all the pain ourselves.

We flounder our time
mistake lust for love
lose friendships and ourselves in the midst of conflict
only to turn away from it all, back to mindless distraction.

And such is all life’s fault!
Life’s instability, life’s craziness.
A consequence to all.

So cast out life.
Call it crazy.
Conceal the truth.
We’re still sane.


I imagined it all in a moment,
the collapse of all structure
and reason and emotion
no longer

It was no longer behaving as it was supposed to,
ought to.
And it was my fault
for being over-zealous,
love-struck, unknowing for
years. I had spent time to build
to slave away and create the proper me.

Yet all in a moment,
I failed.
I gave way to impulse
whereas before I had so painstakingly held it back.
I gave way to my values
whereas before I had so ardently championed it.
I gave way,
and gave in.
But still my fault remains.
Another mark upon my time.

Lover’s Way Pt-2

In lonely times,
and soft relapse,
I chose my fate,
a lover’s way.

Past conscious recall,
in loving detail,
I found love at my door,
but pain on my walls.

I scribble for success,
and toil away my days,
in work and love,
I find a test.

In working for who’s sake?
I’m never quite sure,
A risk I take,
over lonely sets.


A cheer to the crazy ones
who work tireless hours,
struggling, fighting, losing,
succeeding at their wild endeavors and bringing their innovations into the world.

A cheer to the crazy ones
who love genuinely and openly,
placing their hearts upon the battlefield of life,
naked, giving and making the world warmer at their own expense.

A cheer to the crazy ones
who suffer the bittersweet and tragic sense of life,
who continue
and continue
to better things.

But Here I Am

Clinging to a Cheeze-It box she cried inside.
Light shone in from the uneven folds of the window curtains,
casting a sharp glare on the Cheeze-It box.

I could not recall the last time I had had a Cheeze-It.
The crunch and blend of cheese tastes mapping itself out in my childhood,
pulling and pushing me towards an unlikely future,
it was not something I was open to experience again.

She held onto the box, not bothering to ask if I wanted any.
A stillness in the air spoke of worse things to come,
a Cheeze-It box would not suffice it told me,
but would I have been foolish enough to think so anyway?