poetry, Publications, Writing Portfolio

Joy

Joy


All the straight and crooked lines blend together with different colors. A blue canyon, a pink sun, and a red moon. A smile on someone else’s face that’s contagious because her nose is wrinkled and her eyes squeeze shut so tightly that little tear droplets leak out the corners. Laughter bubbles up in the throat so strongly that air cannot get to the lungs. 

A soft fuzzy feeling in your chest like a two-year-old petting a bunny like it’s made of porcelain instead of flesh and fluff. It spreads like liquid sunlight, warming the blood and turning the rivers to gold. You close your eyes but can still see light through the cracks. 

It’s not a frown or a smile, but the everlasting laughter of a soul. A blanket of mountains, stars, children, and God folding around your shoulders like your lover’s arms, and you can lay down to sleep with an empty mind full of light. 

We breathe in, we breathe out. It overwhelms us. The spirit, the soul, the body, the eyes full of emotions, the mind full of heart, the blood vessels moving like jets through the clouds, the bones that grow in the tiny life inside your stomach, the rivers that end and begin from nothing, the ocean surface rippled like thoughts, the endless sky of imagination, and the stars that are too many to number. We breath in, we breath out. We smile. 

I sleep. I wake up, and there’s a bounding in my chest because of the light, because of my lover beside me, because of my God inside of me, because of life. 


Photo by Fuu J 
Published in The Iris Review, Spring 2018

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poetry, Scribbles

Love is like art

Love is like art


Love is like art. 

Pictures of unexplainable emotions swirling together to create colors that have no name because they have never been seen before. 

Sometimes there are many failed attempts before the masterpiece is created. A masterpiece that utters strange and wonderful words to each soul who looks upon it. 

Sculptures of moments frozen in time. Images of memories that still play through the mind. All of these are attempts at depicting what each heart longs for. 

Sometimes love is beautiful, emotional, and patient, with tiny phrases and looks that make the heart run madly. 

Sometimes love is dark and twisted with madness, when excitement blends with fear to form wild imaginations. 

But all art has in common the passion of the artist. 

And it is this passion that we crave. 

Love is like art. 

No two are alike. 

But who could depict love with mere colors and images? Who could depict all of the souls and dreams of mankind on a canvas? 

Love is not art. Love is like art. 

Though men try to depict love, their love may not be seen as art at all to another. 

But to that man, 

His love is a masterpiece. 


Photo by brooklyn 

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poetry

Where are you, Love?

Where are you, Love?


Red as the summer rose, 
My heart bleeds 
Crimson petals in the snow. 

As a cut flower in the heat, 
My soul pants 
For desert streams. 

As fragile leaves downward sent, 
My spirit quakes 
Against the wind. 

Where are you, Love? 

Vast as the starry sky, 
Love transcends 
Above the beacons in the night. 

As the deepest depths in the sea, 
Love conceals 
Every dark and strange mystery. 

As the heat of summer sun descends, 
Love is felt 
Warming hearts, minds, and limbs. 

Where are you, Love? 

Paper blackened by the ink, 
Love’s letters and words 
Choke out pride and deceit. 

Downcast eyes and lowered head, 
Love hears 
Words not understood or said. 

Brothers and sisters gathered round, 
Love is present 
With every heart, mind, and hand bound. 

Where are you, Love? 

As a steady beating drum, 
My heart’s door hears 
The melodious thumps. 

As a match suddenly lit, 
My heart ignites 
With emotions far too powerful to comprehend. 

As morning dew on a fragile rose, 
My heart settles 
Never again to be alone. 

There you are, Love. 


Photo by Jamie Street

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Published in 50 Haikus, Volume 1 Issue 14
Photo by T. Q.

poetry, Publications

Bloom

Image