Category Archives: Poetry

A Second

A second

A voice spoke, the deep heard

Light created by the word


A second

The world weaved

Life breathed


A second

Lies believed, man fell

Forever separated from the everlasting well


A second

A baby born

The veil between heaven and earth torn


A second

A kiss betrays

An innocent, convicted stays


A second

The guilty released

God betrayed by his own priest


A second

Blood ran red

Lamb to the slaughter was led


A second

Death defeated

Earth given the savoir it needed


A second

Creation doubts the existence of creator

No one needs a savior


A second

Death, destruction, hate abound

No one believes the trumpet will sound


A second

Heaven opens, one who was pierced appears

The glow of his light calms all fears


A second becomes eternity

God is all that is seen


The beginning, the end, the word, God

Time doesn’t hold him–out side of it he does trod


What the Word spoke in the beginning

Never faded, kept on spinning


Our struggle seems an eternity

When we look back, it’s only a second we see


Life in the seconds seems forever

Only because to this earth we have a tether


In the end, when the beginning starts

Time will be taken apart

Black and White

All around me, black and white

Your presence gives me vibrant sight

Clutter of broken dreams within

Your laugh somehow makes me grin


Stifling silence all around

You come in and bring sound

Life’s pages dissolve to ashes

But I’m distracted by dancing lashes


Rain chilling me to the bone

You hold my hand, I’m not alone

Inside fire burns

Black and white to color turns


Since this is the month of hearts, romance, and overpriced chocolates, I thought I’d make this month’s poem about the strength a significant other brings.

This little poem was inspired by my boyfriend. Through all the rainy days last year brought me, he was there to kindle a fire. He definitely brought color to my black-and-white world. 😉








Your Own Skin

Your Own Skin

How many skins do you put on each day?

Don’t pretend you don’t—I know how you play

There’s one skin for the person you just met

Then there’s the other set

The one you wear with your friends, so they think you’re fun and carefree

You keep a plethora of skins to make you appear as you wish to be

For the boss, you’re conscientious and clever

When work is done, that skin you sever

You put on another—this one sizzling, bold, and ready to party

When the weeknight’s over, the skin that goes on that makes you look hardy

Tough, in control

No one’s going to see how much it hurts—right to your soul

Your skin covers the emptiness inside

Do all those skins really help? What if you moved them aside?

Peel away the layers of skins—quit trying to be everything to everyone

All that playacting was way overdone

Give yourself a breath, a brake

Just be yourself for goodness sake!

This is a good thing to keep in mind as we begin the new year and start making those resolutions. It’s good to have goals and persue a better version of yourself. Just be sure that you aren’t trying to become someone else. Don’t measure your success by comparing yourself to others. The only comparing you should do is when you look at who you were yesterday.

Happy New Year’s Epic Dreamers! 🙂




Red—Listening to my drunken step-father yell

Being so angry, but having no one to tell


Yellow—being too afraid to runaway

Who would I go to, where would I stay


Green—Watching perfect families with perfect smiles

So carefree, why was I given these trials


Blue—The sadness, a deep well

The story I can’t tell


White—the emptiness of my life

The pain of the knife


Black—a dark cloud’s snare

A waking nightmare


Colors—swirling deep inside

Let me know I’m still alive


Colors—burning bright

In shadow and street light


Colors—my story at last told

My fear gone, finally bold



This was one of my favorites to write. Both because I dabble with painting and because I could relate to the intense emotions portrayed here all throughout my childhood. While I chose to let my feelings spill out on canvases that were in my possession, I can’t entirely fault people who find some sort of release in adding some color to a wall, even if that wall isn’t their own.

I don’t exactly condone it–I think people should respect other’s property–but I can empathize with the need to feel alive when inside feels dead and the need to create when everything around you seems grey.

Because graffiti ironically is done in a grimy alleyway or on a dingy train car, it is a perfect symbol for turning an ugly situation into something bright.

Just my thoughts…:)

What do you think of my poem? Do you think people should be  allowed to put graffiti on things? Did you ever sneak out and spray paint a wall?



Where is the little girl

Who loved to dance, spin, and twirl

She sat on my knee

And was so proud when she counted to three

Scared of the dark, she came running to me


Her smile lit up a bad day

Always outside where she loved to play

Where are the toys scattered though the house

Where are her dolls and her little stuffed mouse


Why is my little girl not here

To make noise and cheer

I don’t hear her shoes on the floor

Why is her tiny voice no more


Gone is my little girl

My treasure my pearl

I will never again see her tired eyes close

Hear her soft breathing

As her chest fell and rose


I would give anything to hear her sleepy sigh

Or even to hear her cry

Nothing is the same

The house is too quiet to tame


No more sticky hands

No more interrupted plans

No sweet voice singing a song

My little girl is gone


Beloved, are my Stefano Bemer shoes and Cadillac

Are my schedules and carefully laid plans

Is my freedom, no one to set me back


Beloved, is my office, my desk, my chair

Is the wall that holds my degrees

Is the silk suit I wear


Beloved, is the coffee that splattered my tie

Your apologies, and moment I first saw your wide eyes

is the night we watched the stars in the sky


Beloved, is you all in white

Is the cake shoved in our mouths

Is the frosting around your lips, such a sight


Beloved, is your swollen belly

Are your eyes when you feel a kick

Is your cravings of pickles and jelly


Beloved, is the moment I first held her

Is her first word, first laugh

Beloved are moments I remember