Writing poems is one of my favorite creative outlets. There is something so fun about trying to pack meaning, obscure human moments, etc into such a small area. I also like that poems don't always spell everything out, which is the way life is in general.

Many of these poems are from another time, when I was in another place. But I still find time to write some new pieces here and there. I hope you enjoy them. And if you like any, I always enjoy some positive feedback. Cheers!

Hero Dies

A building collapsing while onlooker's watch.

In days of old, with hope-filled eyes,
pride beamed from upon my face.
But now and then a hero dies
and a mere mortal takes his place.

Understand? I think, I must
for their outcome is most unsought.
A sacrifice of life? Unjust
in what their selfless fate has brought.

But don't believe, not for one second
that YOU deserve such praise.
Abandonment? Both harsh and quick
lost in teardrops, hate, and haze.


The night time air was cool and crisp
leaves whispering nature's rustling lisp,
as we huddle with friends, drinking beers inside.

Chuck Sander's bar is where we meet
several times, late night, each week.
To extol our shitty days with martyr'd pride.

Yet at times, or so it seems
the pub protects our false perceptions, dreams.
A refuge to escape the world and hide

The booming chatter starts, continues.
Over drinks and nachos, from memorized menus,
as the TV screen flickers the sports games up high.

Leaky Life Raft

Life raft in turbulent ocean waters.

Toes all pointed away from me.
The footprints…
Their strides…
Were they sprinting?
Invisible lines connected the different sizes
(stamped into the wet, coarse, cold sand),
which lost definition and proximity
with distance away from the place
where the waves’ hand gently stroked the sand
as the tide began to rise.

Spiritual Anorexia

Woman with a distorted, etheric reflection.

"But I’ve been attempting to draw nourishment from my Twitter feed since my account was created in the aughts. And I still don’t know how many spiritual calories are in a tweet. Will I ever achieve my daily allowance? Will I ever fill my bucket? Or will trolls fire their darts incessantly, puncturing my pail until it resembles colander, allowing my vitality to spill in all directions?"

When Ideas Die on the Journey from Inspiration to Creation

Dandelion seeds stuck on the stem.

I fell in love with poetry while I was completing my BS and Ph.D. in materials science and engineering. It was more than just an escape valve from the stress of my technical studies. It was my way of exploring life through words. Trying to capture a powerful human emotion, a memory, or a scene in a Haiku format became a fun game. And like any creative endeavor, once you started the flood gates continued to open up. I found myself needing to keep a journal with me at all times, and would often stop several times along my bike commute to campus to capture ideas, phrases, or sentences.

"Oh Dear Muse"

She shoos me up the staircase
while smiling
while encouraging
while prattling on
like a proud mother

“I don’t think I can”
Yet she pays no attention
and rushes past me
stopping only to point intensely
at the small X mark upon center stage

One spotlight
Exposing one, lonely microphone
(the focal point)
of a million eyeballs

One Moment
To stand my creation up
in front of the masses
will they judge?
Of course!

Announcing My First eBook: Never Forget, Never Regret

“You should write a book.”

Although I always appreciated the compliment, but I could never tell if it was sincere or not. Was I really that good or creative at writing? Or was it simply like the words of a mother, who’s unconditional love was so strong that even a finger painting of a blue dog would land itself on the fridge.

Honestly, it doesn’t really matter. We all have things to share (thoughts, pictures, stories, laughs, hugs) and it gets boring to sit on the sidelines and let everyone else have the fun. Sure, we can be self depreciating and claim that no one will care or our actions won’t mean anything. But I disagree. Sometimes the seemingly insignificant things we in life can completely change the lives of someone else, whether we know it or not. And so what if it doesn’t? I’m not willing to take that chance!

Never Forget, Never Regret

A deep breath in, my day is done,
At least seven times the clock has rung.
Begin my walk along side the sun,
while wiping dirt up off my face.

Happy?  I'd like to think I am.
But I'm just an plain old working man
doing grueling work, just to feed the fam.
Odd jobs from place to place.

The tracks before me, just installed of course
took just six weeks with a ten man force.
Shiny steel rails above rocks so coarse,
gleaming softly in warm dusk rays.