(This poem was written last year and published by one of my university’s student writing publications)


You once told me

that it’s impossible to see

when the clouds refuse to move out of the way

of your vision.

What can you do

when life’s pleasures fail to negate

the self hate

and black clouds

squeeze your hand

like an anxious teen

meeting the father of his prom date.

So what’s the point?

Is there a moment that is worth it, and

how many moments will it take before it’s over?

Is there truly something more

when you’ve shuffled the shit outta your deck

and the poker game is over

and then what?

And that’s the million dollar question

haunted humanity since the dawn of civilization

the root cause of religion and in turn, all that

death- carnage- famine- inquisition- persecution-

glory- pride- and ignorance.

It is impossible for human beings

to take a sneak peak

view a spoiler trailer

of that glorious afterlife

of which we all want to believe.

Joy and happiness await above the clouds

they say

whilst secretly,

we wonder if this is false,

if this is it.

Again- so what,

why thrive

in a world rife with chaos and strife

and it’s an every-day struggle to survive

tell me why?

if there is nothing beyond this life

so be it- embrace it

and let those black clouds snuff out the light

one last time.

A valid point– now allow me, if you don’t mind.

What makes existing worth existing–

the answer is opaque

yet light as day

but often shines upon blind eyes

and grazes muted lips,

so use your ears.

Crinkled cold sheets on a lazy Sunday–

the warmth of a comfy old tee shirt

straight out of the dryer–

Birthday cards from Grandma containing ten dollar checks–

iced tea on a sweltering summer afternoon–

picking wildflowers to put in a makeshift vase–

licking the bubbly foam off a fresh cup of Coke–

memorizing that one minute conversation

with your crush before the bell rings–

those odd days when your skin involuntarily glows

and your stride has an extra bounce to it–

when the weatherman’s promise comes through

and it snows on Christmas.

putting a pen to a pad of paper

and writing whatever comes to mind–

meeting strange characters in a subway car–

rescuing lost turtles from country backroads–

fighting to stay awake through a bad movie–

taking a long hike on a crisp Autumn day–

sipping warm cocoa with a peppermint stick–

beating a game at the arcade–

letting snowflakes land on your tongue–

making a friend smile when they’re having one of those days–

conversing with your pet fish who is always there to listen–

turning off your thoughts and curling up with a book

and just forgetting.

Blow it off I won’t take offense,

It’s impossible to force one to see

when one chooses

to be blind. Yet


those hourglass sands of Fate

will call the bluff on your dead man’s hand-

what time and date one can’t yet say-

but I reckon it won’t happen yet,

you have unfinished business to attend

before your time is up


is how the world operates, friend.

So, you’re not sold yet- and

the car salesman’s patience is waning-

the stoplight is about to turn-

consider one last thought before you rev the engine.

Wake up before dawn,

Go outside,

take a breath of fresh air

and let the dewey grass

squish beneath your feet-

find a quiet spot

make yourself comfortable

and wait.

As the sun rises,

take in the moment for what it is-

a moment

insignificant in the scheme of time,

but perhaps,

a defining moment

in your life.

Clear your mind,

sweep the sticky notes off your desk

close your eyes

and listen

to the birds hum their melody-

a Hallmark greeting to the sun

from Earth.

You are alive.

There will come a day,

when church doors shut for good

leaving followers to pray

upwards toward a black sky

for redemption

that may never arrive.

When clouds shroud the the exhausted sun,

the world falls into shadow

and every those on the planet

shall suffer the dark clouds.

Who knows when it will happen,

in a week, a month, twenty years–

but it is not this day.

The sun’s rays are sweeping,

tapping on your window pane

wishing you a jolly good morning.

Say hello


pause and listen–

those songbirds sing for you.


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