A poem written while stuck circling on a plane waiting to land — This seat I am in Its fraught feels the same While I’m stuck in one spot Aboard this damn plane If ground could be ta’en Or simply sustained In some artificial way As to prevail this plane I might find myself Less acquainted with pain And less likely to be Pawn to the…

A poem version of Joe Dispenza’s daily meditation — INDUCTION Sit down now and let yourself sink into your seat Remain alert while you relax your forehead to your feet Take a few deep breaths to relax your mind and body In your nose, out your mouth, long, slow, and steady Your mind becomes present as you continue rhythmically And in…

Quoth I to the Raven, “Feel alone nevermore” — Once upon a midnight weary, while I pondered, bleak and bleary, Over one very loved and lost volume forgotten before — So I dogged, lazily lurching, roused myself to go a searching, Among the many volumes found beyond my chamber door. …

A poem about my journey through Joe Dispenza’s Breaking The Habit Of Being Yourself daily meditation — Stop. Breathe. I feel the fear grip me It sticks in my throat like the tears I can’t free My brow now furrows and eyes deeply crease For fear that the tears will fill up and release But fear is precisely what I’m here to face That limiting emotion that holds me back…

A poem about being alive in a dying time — Why do I feel like a dead bird that has lost its wings and tries to fly if it could only fly as it flew once upon a time when time was much nicer and life much livelier and hope much hopier Why does it all feel like a hammer…

A poem positing about the purpose of existence — What is a world good for if it can’t give you peace? And what good is love if it can’t weaken your knees? What are all the stars for if not for wishing on? And what good is the sun if you can’t see when it’s gone? What good is…

A poem about setting boundaries and prioritizing oneself — I am not the center she screamed at the sun I am not the fixer who can fix everyone I am not the center here at every beck and call the outsider in the middle who’s responsible for all The parts of me that sparkle don’t dazzle in the light they only…

A poem about the burdens and benefits of being a nomad — This feeling of being too free Can one have too much of nowhere Wishing for what I most fear The people I hold most dear And a home to call my own If it isn’t here, where could it be And do I need it anywhere What do I even want it…

A poem about my struggle to stay true to myself — I can see now that I’ve been slowly disappearing from the face of my face this world is forcing me to face the reality hits its almost as if its been happening without my knowing blinded by the will to keep going I see now I cannot just keep on if I don’t know where to go I cannot sort the tiresome if I don’t learn…