My Door

There is a door. It’s my door.


On the other side is my complete happiness. I can hear it calling to me.

It’s a beautiful door; one I’ve hand-carved. It took me a long time to get it to look this ornate.


I’ve spent many years just looking at the door and tracing and retracing the patterns itched into it.


The problem is, a long time ago, someone put a lock on it-could have been me.


I’ve been trying to open it, but haven’t been able to.


I have the wrong set of keys. None of them could quite turn the lock. I tried jiggling the handle and putting the keys in backwards. There were even times when I tried filing the edges of some of those keys to get them to fit, but I only managed to mess up the keys instead.


So I’m left standing in front of a door that has an enormous lock on it and a ring full of keys that won’t open it.


I think I’m going to drop those keys and take a step toward the door and I’m not entirely sure, but mostly sure, that when I try the knob, it won’t be locked anymore.

The Circus

Seasons change to suit the time.

Where you were when you were mine.

All I wished from them was change.

But all I got was lots of pain.



Asking birds to live at sea.

I tried to change you to suit me.

I shake my head in sorrow now,

For each one tried but did not bow.



Now I wander feeling hurt.

For what I want but now avert.

I run and hide.

Fear now my guide,





I asked you not to yield to me.

But smiling you changed things to be

With me you always wanted it.

So why am I afraid to admit?



That you are all I ever want.

To hold, smell you,

Please don’t taunt.



I’m yours if you are not afraid

To guide me through this



Grand Parade

the road to nothingness

So here’s the deal: I’m stuck. I’m in the proverbial rut and I’m spinning my tires. They won’t budge. I tried stepping out of the vehicle to take a look at the problem, and they’re stuck in the mire of excess, spinning their little hearts out. They’ve been spinning so long that they’ve left 6” grooves in the noxious soup.