seek what makes you hungry
if you are not compelled
to act with obsessive vigor
if your curiosity does not
taunt you with madness
then keep on searching
for that elusive hunger
it is what rips open our chest
so our soul may shine

shaken I take stock
parrots shrieking loud

sunny days drift by
mock assail my space

flowers bloom but brief
blink and they're replaced

trees take fifty years
decimated swift

people killed, displaced
earth protests in pain

stop, opt out, you're lost
left with platitudes

can I drift removed
isolation seek

then again I see
I sound like them now

if I sulk and pout
fail to see my path

rise above and live
carve a vibrant self

ripples echoing
circle all this globe

passage clipped and purged
take a mountain pass  

rein in darkening clouds
grasp some grit this day

Wall after wall after wall.
It’s time to take a break.
Thickness, concrete, cement.
I’ve been closed for so long.
Shadows, darkness, hiding.
I don’t even remember what the sun feels like.
Safety, enclosed, tightly.
I miss the sun. I miss the air.
Cracked, chipped, scraped.
I think it’s time for a change.
Snap, crack, pop.
Maybe if I just try it.
Crumble, rubble, dust.
Reach a bit more, open it wide.
Blinding, bright, warmth.
I feel it.
Grow, glisten, breathe.
I am myself again.
Open, open, open.
It’s so good to be back.

A sidewalk canvas
Half done slush
An oil slick
Twice frozen ice
And boots that slip
A train just missed
The red eyes glare
Rain that floats
In sour air
Brutalized concrete
Bleeding rust
Filthy floors
And alley walls
Spent cigarettes
In every nook
Steel that shrieks
In cold protest
Blue lights
And a defiant poet
On every corner

bright red bubbles pop from underneath my feet
red as cherry trees that won't grow
can this be blood?
dirt from in between my toenails
i wash off Mother Nature's skin  
a leaking coming from my eyes
that washes away dissatisfaction
can these be tears?
the sound of feet against the ground
solid and unloving
i slip
face down into the ground
can this be where life comes from?
an old lady plants flowers in her garden
can this be inspiration?
i am losing my train of thought
can this brain be me?

Crying into a pillow case
Heart broken from a severe case
Of “why can’t things just go my way”
Near drowning from the tears
Confronted by the kinds of fears
That chase hopes and dreams away
On the surface it appears
That these are tears of sadness
But that perception isn’t reality
These are tears of passion
She knows failure is a minor setback
So it fuels her motivation
To get back to dream chasing
So she picks herself up
Dries her tears and never looks back
She refuses to breathe any doubt air
And needs no pats on the back
She is brave, strong and determined to
Make her reality & dreams the same thing

Novelty delays fine work.
A lack of interest in persistence as it were.

Oh Novelty you and your cousin Naivety
wrap me in delusion and play on my vanity,
You tell me Rome was built in a day,
that riches come quick to those who simply play.

Oh consistency, are we here again?
The constant whip to push through the day,
I'd rather just theorize and think my way.

Yes, a lazy poet I am, I rarely speak of grit.
Such a millennial they say,   I think therefore I can.

people see your skill

   and name it Talent

      in reality,

         Talent walked you to the door

            knocked twice,

               then disappeared

                  and you were left with Grit.