Inside, go within

Leaves It alone

As survival scopes out differences forewarning

Fraying edges can’t suck up enough

Potential from the bedrock

Hoarding Feasts

What choice do we have?

Besides taking everything off

And starting from scratches

Clawing bite


Up skin

Masks conveying the person they decided you’d be

Behind commodities is no one

A kind of win

Rejecting shapes they’d pruned you into

Drowning in tubs of empty self-fulfillment


Human topiaries

Out of passive insult and policy

Rewriting rules

If it were up to me I’d abandon everything in favor of growing wild

Were it not for these restraints

Tied with strings to post, ghost and beam

Rule her

Measuring unconsent

Becoming tricks

Refracting light, blood, glass


To tell his story

where we sit, stand, serve, sin, fail, Fall

Imagine rising


Anyway, you ever feel like you’re wrapped in duct tape trapped behind an invisible mirror strapped to a hamster wheel waiting to run yourself to death? Typical Monday. So thank god for poetry right?

The good news is I broke 30,000 words on the book this weekend and I finally bought myself a navy blue bandana. I’m pretty psyched about that. What’s your good news in this ridiculous human experiment called life?

ps: the photo is nesting glass bowls from the Chihuly museum. It’s so unfair we can’t touch them.

21 thoughts on “Unbecoming

    • Hi Mags! I’m so sorry I missed this. One of the drawbacks to becoming a writing machine is missing comments …from my favorite people to boot! And yes, policies are the insult. Should we need a set of instructions telling us to love one another? I guess we have a book or two like that come to think of it 😉

      Liked by 1 person

    • Thanks M.B. I know we go faster when we take time to organize the spice rack, pay bills in time and put away the folded sheets but ugh! I just wanna dance and eat cake for breakfast. 😉


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