Tag Archives: destruction

Confidence Building


I once was a mountain
I now am a mote.
I tore myself to pieces
yanked the fragrant stands of pine
tumbled the elegant waterfalls
bloodied my hands
tore my nails
bent my back
ground the last pebble
under my heel
until I was just
miserable dust.

I once was a mote
I now am a castle.
I built myself up
bricks to crenellated battlements
magnificent masonry
exhausted and proud.

I light a match
and burn me all down again.













The Fall


When Fall passes by

It brushes some trees on top

Some the bottom

Some the side.

Wherever a leaf has been touched

It quickly spreads.

The torch of Fall

Kindles all.

They go graceful, as nature wills

They go with fire, one last glory

Immolating the world.

There is beauty in destruction

And the trees glow with it.

Filtering sunfire

Into their own shade

Coloring the sidewalks



Baby green


With a farewell kiss

So light

Too soft for all senses

But sight.













The Girl with the Fur Stole


I met a girl at a wedding

She had a fur stole.

Though I wasn’t bothered

She rushed to apologize

Explaining that it was her grandmother’s

And more a crime not to wear it.

Found out I was a girlfriend not a wife

And said bitterly, they’re in fashion now.

She explained that she, once a wife,

Had been relegated back to girlfriend status

Topping it off with the comprehensive phrase: it’s complicated.

Then she laughed, said she was fine

But it was clear she was not fine.

Declared us friends

And promised me more details after the ceremony.

I did not seek her out.

I had a sense that once she started talking

She would not be able to stop.


I danced one song with her.

She was manic

Dancing her fierce fake happiness

Bare to all.

Three times she told me

How she tore the edge of her dress

With her stiletto

Unaware of her own repetition

Unaware that she had actually injured my toe

In her clumsy drunken ambling.


In the process of self-destructing

Unable to take ownership of the better things

She threw her stole aside.

The things she still wore

Couldn’t withstand the strain

And shredded apart

Just from being near her.


Whose friend is that, people asked me judgmentally.

I defended her the best I could

But neither did I want to to get caught up

In the wake of her desperation.














Rain poem

What is it about the rain.

Maybe because it is the only thing left that man cannot touch.

Its anger may kill us

and there is nothing we can do.

It makes one feel small

to know the rain,

the lightning, the thunder.

The largeness of it all

envelops the sun

until even the tallest building

casts no shadow.


Everybody runs from the rain.

Everybody hides.

The ones who embrace the rain are anomalies.

To stand in the rain

is to stand alone.

There is a stereotype that these are the ones who know how to live.

No. These are the ones who turn to embrace

their own destruction.

And in doing so,

they live more brightly.

Under the flickering lightning

only they

cast shadows.