January 17, 2026

distract yourself with crimson glaze
with pink chiffon
with aesthetics and
art

[is art a distraction?
or is it a human need?]

[or is distraction itself
sometimes
a need?]

[i don’t know
i don’t know
i try to speak for
the entirety of the human race
but so few of them make any sense
to my own senses
that i’m simply trying to
live life
i’m simply trying to
continue to
want to live life
keep life
going
i’m simply trying to
try
sometimes
not even all the time
just
sometimes
sometimes sometimes
sometimes be my own human self
sometimes try to speak for
those in the human race that today’s humanity
seems to leave behind
sometimes try to
connect with others
in a way that
raises both parties up
from one level of existence
to another
greater
kinder
more enlightened
not to be better than others
but to carry everyone
with us — if i share enlightenment with three people
and each of them share with
three more
how long until we have all of humanity
together
and looking out for
each other?]

this rambling poem
is to say
as much as i feel like i
will never understand the
rest of the human race, i keep making art
for them for them for them
for the connection to get to know them
and have them know me

i can’t help it

that’s part of living as/with
humanity

November 9, 2025

the everyday tasks
of being alive

[why is feeding one’s body so much more important
in our society
than feeding one’s soul?]

impart my own passions to me
and i’ll show you how cheap food can taste
when it is only for the nourishment
of keeping oneself alive

[i, along with every human deep down, wish more to

Thrive]

September 19, 2025

waking moments
still stuck in dreams
trying to keep track of
what is reality
and what might not be

and what makes sense to me
is that there is not any one solid answer

it’s all just chemical reactions and brain synapses
trying to make sense of a world that just
doesn’t

August 24, 2025

write what you know
and then write it a little farther away
using metaphor
or simile
or narrative tactics
that make it seem
like it may not be about your life
at least not completely
but we all know
we all know
every writer carries hundreds
if not thousands
if not millions or billions or trillions of
selves
with them at all times

[or is that just every human
as we live and grow and change and morph
into each of our
many
many
many
final forms]

June 12, 2025

how can there be
so much horror in the world
alongside such beauty?

how can death happen one day
and the next, the miracle of a whole new life?
how can those celebrating a graduation/
a union/
pure friendship
be next door to
domestic violent terror
in one’s own home?

i haven’t figured out yet
how to be a happy person
while also knowing
so much that happens behind
tightly closed doors

in front of
tightly shut eyes

because, from my position here,
it feels counterintuitive —
i’m trapped in feeling like
one thing cannot be acknowledged
if the other isn’t also

but perhaps that’s my own black and white
fault
thinking

because there’s also
often
mundane day happening
alongside mundane day

and it’s the grey that
somehow
sometimes
keeps us going