creative writing
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A World of Canvas
What is this worldStretched before me?Without spectrumWithout substanceContinuously folding into itselfAnd unfurlingLike the quiet rhythmThat draws theCycle of breathThrough my being And I cannot discernWhether I existAt its beginningOr at its end—Perhaps I’ve found myselfPlanted at its centerWhere above meThe space breaks awayIn jagged, feathering veinsPierced through with white light And from that chasmA viscous Continue reading
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Hidden Envy
What’s the danger?You asked meIn a voice so pureAnd guilelessIt ribboned through my chestAnd knotted tight‘Round my arteries‘Til it bruised with envyFor your eyesThat had never seenThe collapse of starsBurning at our feet;For your heartThat had not beenPierced throughBy what so many of usKnow too intimately:The pain that cloaks itselfWithin the sweet and delicateBrush of Continue reading
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In These Words
Fingers crossedWith childlike fervorA gossamer-soft hopeTightly clenchedThat these words –Floating into the etherIntertwinedWith ethereal promisesOn the wind –Will grasp the palmOf searching fingertipsOr sit upon the lipsOf some unassuming strangerOr find their wayInto the open chambersOf the heartWhere they may resonateLike a comforting frissonSuffusing warmthThrough weary bonesAnd reach further stillTo soothe the soulEmbosomed deep within Continue reading
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Finding Myself
There’s a pendulum swinging somewhere beyond the hedges of my periphery. A tick-tocking that reverberates distantly through the still air. But it doesn’t shake my chest with panic or fear. No. It’s more the sound of time being on my side. A sound of reassurance through this slow process of rediscovering myself. It’s a little Continue reading
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Euphoria
The rain came, euphoria warm on its breath. It called to her from the kitchen, glistening rivulets winking at her like crystals against the thick glass. And, without a second thought, she dashed outside, bare feet sliding over wet grass, mud squelching between her yellow-painted toes. The rain clapped at her shoulders as the wind Continue reading
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Spring Longing
I yearn for…Spring’s elusive caress –Balsam of her tender palms –To soothe theFrosted scabs and scarsScourging fissures deepThrough exposed fleshUnable to endureWinter’s crude affection I long for…The sun’s elixirHoneysuckle kissingAt my lipsMelting onMy tongueAs abundant raysLike cloaks of golden silkWrap around meFragrant with the dewPlum and cherry blossomInfused For these barren nightsCallous and ungivingRemind me Continue reading
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My Cousin Sunmar
Sunmar was supposed to be a kept secret. Tucked away like a miser’s treasure, safe from prying and greedy eyes. Sunmar was my cousin. My brother, Jeff, and I would always go to Auntie Jackie’s and Uncle Vern’s house for winter break. We knew they had a son, but we’d never been introduced to him. Continue reading
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Starting Somewhere
It only takes one word Like a slow, hesitant breath Streaming into more fluid exhales – An even cadence Unfurling the tense coils Of anxiety From deep within the chest Until it becomes less painful To draw these words out Even when they Snag and bruise With their jagged edges At the exposed places And delicate fringes Of my mind A balsamic comfort Trails over these wounds Soothing the unease With the knowledge That Continue reading
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Morning Accident
Scalded tongueBurns with curses —Hot coffee Poured down the drainBittersweet swirlsOf wasted pleasureWashed down In vacant streams An angry jerk Of the refrigerator doorBears a cold breathOver flushed cheeksIce cubes crudely culledFrom their deep bedsFor the surly monsterRolling out from its wet cave —Pink and scorched Saliva drips into the sinkThe burn cools She pours Continue reading
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When the Night Comes
There is an intimacy that comes with the night. When the moon hoists herself high with unabashed flourish amid the glimmer of a star-studded sky. In the hours when the earth sighs soft and nocturnal melodies drift on the whistling wind. Here, in this room, where the walls are so thin they may not have Continue reading
Nomad Writer 