come words
help me escape
from this paralysis

spill from my fingers
in cascades
of staccato
keyboard taps
from heart
to blinking cursor

flow forth
in rivulets
of feeling
pooling on this screen
and trickling
down the



frustration builds
as snow whirls
in icy cold winds
as aches and pains
drain energy away
plans unmade
timing all wrong
and yet
in this moment
as I cease
the fruitless
anger with life
and simply be
all is well
all is calm
as you and I
are here

not a love poem

I wanted to write you
a beautiful love poem

but there was work
there was life
there were ideas that failed
there were hormones that raged
there were eyes falling shut
and frustration it grew
as I tried and I tried
with the time that I had
but the words wouldn’t play

so I stopped
and remembered
how you looked at me
when I flapped and I stressed
you said everything’s fine
(or words of that ilk)
and you kissed me and held me
and wiped up my tears
and told me I’m silly
but you love me anyway

and I think of your face
and my heart swells within
how unwordably precious you are to me
how unpoemably patient and loving you are
and I know that you know that I love you right back
regardless of poetry, rhyme or of meter

so this isn’t a love poem
just collections of words
telling you nothing you don’t know already
but just to reiterate, to make it quite clear
I love you
(much more)

mute words

I become mute
of the simplest
of my thoughts

I have nothing
that would do justice
to this tenderness
nothing that would
reflect the sensation
your words bring me
or the tingling on my tongue
from your oven-baked
poetry in food form
or the ripples
flowing through me
from the droplets
of your touch
moving ever outwards
filling me up

your words come
back to me
This morning
I reached for your smile
and your eyes
reached into me

and once more I melt

my practical, poetic, cooking hero
with beauty beyond measure
in his humble loving soul

words are not enough


this swelling rage
 (to quote the mumfords)
this impotent anger
 at injustice

foot twitching     broken rhythm
fingers tap staccato     beats     out of time
 sigh of frustration     baffled stare
this can    not     be right

  wearing down

how far can they push
  before you jump?