Live poetry reading from my latest chapbook, “From Ash”

Here’s a live poetry reading out of “From Ash.”

Comment your thoughts below!

“Look up at the night sky and count the stars until daybreak-

my love for life now exceeds both the number of stars and the time it would take.

To traverse the horizon and

navigate the seas,

or brave the desert’s barren passages

with ease, nothing is an impossible feat.

My love for life is power, empowering, serene.

It motivates me to strive for the impossible-

it motivates me to fly over obstacles.

I will crash through glass ceilings until the shattered mirrors

falling over me reflect my

yearning for the parts of myself that

I’ve lost along my journey.

I yearn for the parts of me that drifted away

like dust particles intercepting the

rays of light that

peer through the window at sunrise-

perhaps those parts of me prevented me from inner peace.

Perhaps you’ll find those parts of me

and I’ll find you-

perhaps all hardship is a tool

that we can utilize to

hammer these lessons into our beings.

Perhaps some lessons are harder to penetrate than others-

so never quiver or quake at the

sight of the path

towards the next mountain

after you’ve just climbed

to the first peak,

because, verily,

with every hardship there is ease.


The ventriloquist of hearts

If I had a superpower, I would

want to be the ventriloquist of hearts.

I’d want the power to latch onto others and

ail their aching hearts with a tug;

I’d want to mend their cracks with my strings.

I’d fell the greatest tyrants, and court the

purest hearts to my favor.

I’d latch onto my own, but with chains

instead of thin, frail, fragile strings;

I’d cover my heart with chains so I

could feel every palpitation that breathes

life into my vessels.

I would protect my heart with those chains

and it would be impenetrable- a

fortress of contentment in solitude,

a beacon of love that I would savor all

for myself.


To blow away the clouds

How peaceful could the pasture feel

if it’s grass were dead and yellowed?

If the sun burdened it with it’s

heat, and it had no relief from the rain?

How peaceful could the meadow be when

clouds mask the stars in the night sky,

shading it from their glory?

I want to downpour on the pasture;

I want to blow hard on the clouds that

cover the meadow until they drift away,

revealing the infinite speckles in the sky.

I want to break the cycle of desolate heat

killing off the luscious grass,

I want the clouds to burden the pasture with

a monsoon, torrential downpour, and I’ll

grasp the light from the stars and deliver it

to the meadow like it was a precious parcel

that was waited on.


The Ode of Contentment

The ode of contentment is sung from birds perched on tall tree branches; the ode of contentment calls to us, freely chanting “expression” as a means of becoming one with the world.

The ode of contentment echoes throughout the brush of the forest where crickets can be heard at nightfall chirping, crying out to the parts of us that are consumed by cognitive noise- the parts of us that exist outside the moment we’re presently in and experiencing.

The ode of contentment carols out from the visible waves of thermal radiation emitted by the hot pavement we navigate day in and day out; it beckons for us to put down our text messages and yearning for validation- it wants us to seek solace from the anxieties of mass information.

The ode of contentment is heard- but not listened to. Open the box your world is confined to and sing with the birds, chirp with the crickets at nightfall, and be fluid like the thermal radiation emitted from hot pavement; the ode of contentment is the universe’s statement to us, saying “live in the moment, never waste it.”