Blackbird sitting on the window sill,

out of the cage and still not knowing.

Trying to think of flying or staying still,

as not wanting to stay but no point in flying.

Blackbird looking out to the ground outside,

seeing other birds flying up, up and away.

Dreaming of a chance to break free and soar in the skies,

being grounded by the thought that today is not the day

Today is not the day to fly,

fly with the pain of everything associated with departure.

Today is not the day to say goodbye,

goodbye to all the bad and the good whichever is harder.

Blackbird looking out the window and just hoping,

without realizing the window was open



Shadows span the entirety of Shikoku line.

Shadows of men and women,

hustling to and from work to punch their final card.

Shadows of children and grandparents,

ending both days beginning and days well spent.

Shadows of lovers and loved ones,

holding each other tightly at the world’s end.

Each shadow told a story,

of the day when the sun set in the east.

Each shadow was cast long and the thin,

as the sun went down over the sea side.

Each shadow never faded,

even as the day grew so shaded.

Some say at night you can watch the shadows,

as they dance and move with delight.

Each shadow goes and lives its own life,

waiting for their stop to come,

and for the train to take them away.



Life is uncertain

Time come and goes,
where no one knows.
It goes as surely as wind blows,
and rivers flow.

We can grasp tightly,
Or we can just let go.
The day will always end nightly,
as the moon sets real low.

Uncertainty is the name of game,
so don’t try to make your life tame.
Because as the end of the day it’ll drive you insane,
so don’t try to stick within your lane.

Love your life,
even through hardship and strife.
As you don’t get another one,
so honor your own and respect other’s one

Pocketful of Posies

To play and have a wonderful day.

Childhood came and went away.

Days of hurt, days of wonderful play.


Like we all stand on a merry go round,

going round and round,

Still searching for what we already found.

No secret paradise away from our searching pair of eyes.


Through our rose tinted glasses,

we looked and searched through the masses.

Forward we looked, backwards we looked.

But what happened upon us:



Not yesterday, not tomorrow.

Not looking for a past or future to borrow.

Yet in this there is no sorrow.


Your past self self believes in you,

your future self awaits you.




At a time of peace we forget,

forget time and time again.

Of how hard it was to obtain,

this fragile little piece of time.

The time after guns were honed,

after the knives were sharpened.

To inflict the most damage possible,

to fight through every obstacle.

Sons and daughters were separated from mothers.

Brothers killed brothers, sisters killed sisters.

Countrymen and countrywomen were torn from their countries.

Citizens killed foreigners, foreigners killed citizens.

We forget, we forget, we forget.

We don’t just stand where those fighters were,

we stand above them, on the shoulders of giants.

Those who fought against tyranny,

those who fought against oppression,

those who fought against darkness.

As a world it never seemed like we got to grieve.

Not for those who were lost on our own sides,

but in the chance of sounding young and naive

to grieve together for those who fought for us.

Grandparents fought for their grandchildren.

Parents fought for their children.

Children fought for those who couldn’t protect themselves.

Whether they know it or not they fought for us.


A Parallel Universe

In a parallel universe,

everything is perfect.

No pain, no suffering,

no hurt, no hungering.

In a parallel universe,

everyone loves one another.

No rage, no fighting,

no pride, no disagreeing.

In a parallel universe is:

A curse where we do not grow,

A curse where we do not develop.

In our universe,

we are imperfect.

We have pain, we have suffering.

We have hurt, we have hungering.

In our universe,

everyone does not get along.

We have rage, we have fighting.

We have pride, we have disagreeing.

This universe,

we take for granted.

We might suffer and hurt,

to at some point to heal and be healed.

We might fight one another,

to at some point to forgive and be forgiven.

We don’t live in a parallel universe,

we share this one.


Inktober Day #22: Ghost

Ubi sunt qui ante nos fuerunt or where are those who were before us?

I drop my knee to this hardened earth,

reach out and lay my hand upon your grave.

I couldn’t believe you were pulled from the blackened hearse,

slowly tears begin to fall that I just couldn’t stave.

Thoughts of why you had to die,

and why I couldn’t of been the one dead instead.

More and more thoughts filled my head,

most spent to why time couldn’t last forever.

Where did you go, why did you have to leave?

From a kid then, to an adult now.

I still don’t understand and I never will.

All I know is what I felt and what I still feel.

As I knelt and cried, I felt your comforting touch.

The touch that only a grandmother could give.

To this day I still feel her with me, watching and protecting.

With eager eyes to see what I will do next.

Where are those who were before us?

In their perspective where are we?

We can feel their presence,

and they can feel ours.

They walk aside us and accompany us.

When the days get tough,

and the roads ahead get rough,

they comfort us and console us.

They stick with us even to the end,

as the last moments come and go.

They reach out and give us a hand to grasp on to.


Inktober Day #3: Bait

To the sea,

I went.

To see,

from shore to shore.

Not in search,

for any forsaken mystery.

In search,

for a yearning to come from inside me.

To the sea,

I sailed.

To see,

if there was more to live for.

Waiting for fate,

to come like a fish to bait.

Came so far,

for an escape to the stars.

To the sea,

I waited.

To see,

if the stars would rattle me to the core.

Now the day,

has come as I am old and grey.

I’ve wasted my life,

waiting for a yearning to come from the sea.


Standin’ in the Rain

In the rain,

feelin’ insane.

As I just stood there,

losin’ my brain.


In the rain,

sayin’ nothing in vain.

As I just waited there,

stayin’ in the cold.


I waited and waited for Mr. Blue Sky,

to come and take me away.

For me to soar to the heavens and fly,

only thing that came was rain in its stay.


When Mr. Blue Sky didn’t show,

I couldn’t wait anymore.

So I got in my car and began to go,

go where… I wasn’t necessarily sure.


All I could think of was the wheels turning,

under me as I drove away from my past.

Not thinking too much where I was yearning,

or even making my getaway too fast.


Those wheels turning,

round, round, round.

Not sure where they are going,

bound, bound, bound.


Towards a new future,

for you and me.

Our past is unsure,

until it turns into a memory.


As I drove I saw loads of people,

that reminded me of you: Mr. Blue Sky.

Happy faces all about, couples holding hands.

As my hands grasped the cold wheel.







I Love You

I don’t know who you are,

but I love you.

I know it is bizarre,

but I hope you love me too.

Why is it so taboo

to say I love you?

I love you, you and you.

I don’t care of your culture,

race or religion,

I love you all the same.

I love the way you are so similar to me

but different in all the right ways.

I love the way you disagree with me

but still let my words phase your heart.

I love you in all of the inexplicable ways,

for all of the rest of my inexplicable days.

I hope you love me too,

I hope you love you too.