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Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little...

We are not just survivors,
patched up with scars and silent battles.
We are architects,
laying bricks of hope on the ruins of yesterday.

We are not just wanderers,
drifting where the wind may take us.
We are...

This is not I. I had no body once–
only what served my need to laugh and run
and stare at stars and tentatively dance
on the fringe of foam and wave and sand and sun.
Eyes loved, hands reached for me, but I was gone
on my own...

Saturday nights,
Always the big fight
A fight to say no
To the known;
And yes, to the unknown!

Squares, circles, and stars
invite me to play.
Lines, curves, and squiggles
show me the way.
Letters, numbers, and signs
never suffice to say
that you mean the world to me,
more than the light of day.

We real cool. We
Left school. We

Lurk late. We
Strike straight. We

Sing sin. We
Thin gin. We

Jazz June. We
Die soon.

The longer it takes
My heart it bakes

This thing…

I see the days
I feel the nights

This thing…

As sure as the sky is blue
All my heart wants is you!

The art of losing isn’t hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of...

The winds of time like a housemaid,
Imperfectly gathered every careless word
Stitched them with aching precision
Behold, a coat of shame.
With a warmth as heavy as the guilt
An unholy fusion of past and present
It had...

I love cake and some chat
Watching the sun set like art
Singing love songs off key
Spending time with little money
Planning so much with friends –
To see the world from all ends;
These little things you see
Are all you...

Isn’t it amazing,
That a burgeoning rose,
Or a magical sunset
Or a sweet song’s tune,
Or a full moon’s splendor –
Just the thought of sheer beauty:
Takes each of use –
With the certainty of a compass –
To just one...

If I could bask in my own love,
and give myself to myself
as I give to others,
then I would be whole.
But self cannot complete self,
and only flesh can cure flesh.
Thus, I remain unfinished,
until I can find...