The Blue Jay


The blue jay flying,

see it?

The soft under of her wing

rustling in the wind’s stream.

How her tail provokes

the jaundiced morning sky

and her squawk, a planned

shuttering reverb.

She is one of us.  Born

to survive a foreign existence

beginning before sight,

tossed into life’s circus

like a cup of mealworms

scattering from chicken beaks.

She keeps on spinning,

the Earth,

keeps on slinging

in gravitation pull

like the blue jay’s drift-

soft and easy.



Love Letter


You uplift me like dynamite

shooting a rock to heaven

then back to grounded.

You heal me like torn threads

sewn by tiny hands,

matching my very pattern.

You correct me.

You cannot predict the future,

yet you can influence it.

Your love is the metal core

of the ring I adorn.

Your spirit is reflective

like a doe prepping her fawn

for Spring forage.

Your growth is thunderous,

heard widely amongst

the lands you’ve visited.

Your aspiration is a hot air

balloon fueled by heat, soaring.

Our time consumed together

is like a coral reef, fragile,

colorful, and protective.





The biggest living organism is a fungus,

not the human kind terrorizing

Earth’s virginity, a fungus stretching

leagues below their feet.

Our sun, sprouting mitochondria throughout

living bodies, feeds the things above,

sequentially feeding that below

as fertile minerals of death

seep downward into the soils

that men rip apart to plant and mine.


Those which live in darkness

feed upon death and grow

in the richest reasons to grow.

Diamonds grow from recycled carbon

will be recycled to carbon

when the human fungus ruins the above ground.

Our bodies are fine after death.

When our body’s cells reject their neighbors,

our electrical spark transmits

to another being seeking.


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