For when you can’t know the sun

The dim, weak light only appears beautiful when there is so much darkness surrounding it.

Fluorescence draws the eye to anything other than the light.


We can get so used to it.

We can make ourselves so blind.


But I would rather have a warm soft glow

Than the harsh phosphorescence of cylindrical bulbs

Snapping on strings above and about my head,

And I’d certainly rather have that

Than nothing

At all.



Steel Blue

Watercolors drip down the white wall you’ve built between us

(at least you cared enough to make it beautiful)

And I only hope my cadence scribbled in Crayola will find it’s way to you.

Continue reading “Steel Blue”

if god were a man

If God were a man

He would look just like you

Except something tells me not even he could be as handsome.

But, if he dare be,

I’d start to pray again

With your name on the knuckles of my folded hands.

Continue reading “if god were a man”


Charles Bukowski, 1920-1994


don't undress my love
you might find a mannequin:
don't undress the mannequin 
you might find
my love. 
she's long ago
forgotten me. 
she's trying on a new
and looks more the 
than ever.

she is a
and a mannequin
and death. 
I can't hate 
she didn't do
I only wanted her


Anyone familiar with Bukowski knows his often abrasive, raunchy, nihilistic style. However, this specific work is different in that it deals with themes of love in a more direct and clear way than he may have done in other pieces. Published in his collection Ham on Rye in 1982, towards the end of his life, Bukowski shows a more vulnerable side to his art that he hadn’t in earlier poetry.

Continue reading “Trapped”