Written: October 2011
What do you know
What do you see
Why do you care
Why are you here
Did you ever really listen
Did you ever really listen
Did you ever really bother
To see
To care
To hear
Zucchini Zen
Written: October 2011 for a creative writing class
Look at the zucchinis grow
Like squashes in a row
Perfect tens
With their perfect zen
Mixed into a creamy paste
They have a very zesty taste
Breads and soups
As perfect as a marching troop
A culinary delight
They are the perfect bite
I have never once eaten zucchini.
It All Begins
Written: October 2011
It all begins
When we fall asleep
Things awaken
That were buried deep
Memories once forgotten
Half-remembered faces
Appearing randomly
Mystic meanings
Hidden inside
It all ends
When we awake
Dreams slip away
Into the new day
White Hope
Written: October 2011
The color white
Looks like light
It smells like a rose
Composed of hope
White feels empty
Yet full of possibilities
Sounding like waves
Tasting silky and clean
The color white
Is the color of things unseen
Hats
Written: September 2011
Hats
From places I’ve yet to see
Military caps and ball game hats
Medals and pins
From all the places you’ve been
Each with a place in the stories
You never told me
Those things
Stories they told at your funeral
About all the places you’ve seen
The Joker
Prompt: A joker card from a deck of playing cards
Written: August 2011 for a Creative Writing class
The joker of the class
Always getting the laughs
Yet still he’s the outcast
52 cards in the deck
Aces, Queens, Jacks, and Kings
But of no real use is he
A bright happy yellow he appears
No one sees what he fears
The blood and bruises
hidden with long sleeves
Yet the joker is all they see
Idle Hands
Inspired by “Idle hands are the devil’s playthings”
Idle hands are unwise
Idle hands wield knives
Idle hands cut deep
Into skin so fine
Fretful minds are unsafe
Fretful minds play with lies
Fretful minds disrupt
Hope so hard fought
Distractions are temporary
Distractions always pass
Distractions giveaway
To numbing pain
The Devil controls the hands
The Devil corrupts the minds
The Devil creates false hope
With fickle distractions
Impatient
Result from the Let the Dice Choose prompt: Impatience
Impatiently waiting
Watching the clock tick down
Constantly Refreshing
Ready for that moment you name lights up my phone
Impatiently waiting
Dying to hear your sweet dulcet tones
See that beautiful smile
With eyes soo sweet
Making my heart beat, beat, beat,
Living for My Mom
Spoken Word Poem resulting from Let the Dice Choose poetry prompt: A Feeling That’s Hard to Describe.
I’ve wanted to teach since I was 4 years old
And I am all set to graduate in 2022
But I no longer see a future classroom,
I can’t even imagine it
Because I don’t think…
Because I don’t believe I’ll get there.
It’s like
A timeline of your life,
Abruptly stopping at 2020.
Not due to any specific event,
But just no more space on the page.
And you know,
You know all you need to do is
Grab another page and keep writing
But… *Shrug*
At my grandmother’s funeral
My cousin made a poor timing joke
involving them and I dying.
I will never forget the look on my mom’s face
As she contemplated that thought
Or the terrified panic in her voice as she rebuked them.
Every time I feel like I am drowning
I see that face and hear her voice
And I could never,
Could never be the cause of that.
So I keep living,
Feeling utterly lost
Like I’m walking into a dark abyss
I don’t know what I’ll find
What will get written
On the next page in my timeline
But I have to keep going,
For her sake, if not mine.
Can You See The Man?
On 11 November 2014, I had the privilege of helping Kansas State University’s Arnold Air Society Squadron (Arnold Air is a supplemental society to AFROTC) with their annual 24 hour Silent Guard. Every Veteran’s Day, in hour long shifts, cadets stand guard at the Vietnam Memorial on campus. They stand there for an hour in complete unmoving silence. The last several years had produced very cold Veteran’s Days, but that has not and will not stop these cadets from honoring those who came before them. Below is a picture I took of one such cadet on guard just after midnight when the event started and a poem that I wrote to along with it.
Do you see the man
Who stands watch for an hour
In the dead of the night
To remember the fallen
Those who came before him
Names etched in stone
A memorial
To those who never really came home
The Poetry Dragon 