Poetry

A poem about people with lots of followers on GitHub, but no stars. — I see you’re very popular with the developer community. But this doesn’t mean you can walk around with impunity. Corporate might pay you in currency your government generates at the click of a button. But these stars can only be created when someone is inspired or something. So fuck you…

with the gravest eyes and the sweatiest of palms, and with a trembling voice, held barely above a whisper, she said, well, I’m afraid to go out there and live life again… the life, she said, that chewed me up and spit me out, the life I was supposed to conquer…

Narrative Poetry — There was a respected man in the area we lived, a celeb around town, generous with his time and wealth, admired by many, living in a beautiful house. Many esteemed his charity, the fancy cars, and the sleek clothes adorning him. …

A poem for Charles Baudelaire — And I should choose my words as artfully to speak my truth as I consider it as Baudelaire wrote drunk remarkably on opium, hashish, French wine a bit, and more while watching evil flowers bloom with wretchedness of our vile humanity, this poetry of yearning hearts and doom, a flaneur’s convalescence, lavishly…

(trigger warning -suicide)

A pause to look forward and back — Getting older for me is getting tired, especially in the eyes, especially at night when lights (on cars, in windows, from street lamps and traffic signals) move around me like I’m Ms. Pac-Man whose world offers colorful pixels and sometimes delights. I have an issue with the corneas in both…

A rising song composed of light — “Attention is the beginning of devotion.” — Mary Oliver A swoop, a dive, a tumbled rush, a flash of fire, ephemeral, the hummer’s there and then he’s gone, a rising song composed of light. What is it like to fly that high and then to sigh into a fall so free that…