speaking in tongues

Posted in Crimson Writ, Poetry on January 14th, 2021 by D'jaevle

I offer you silence
not as an absence
but as a gateway
to a moment
where
I can
befriend
your
demons

it is not so strange
that I speak their language:
your demons know
my demons
so very
well.

let me count the things you are not

Posted in Poetry on December 13th, 2020 by D'jaevle

you are not a rose.
not pricked
in thorns
or cannibalized
for love

you are not a summer day.
if your eyes hold
a sunset
you keep it
well hidden

you are not a gift.
promise,
secret,
or encapsulated
by any singular
intent

you
do not fit neatly
into metaphor
(or my poet’s heart)

you are simply
(perfectly)
unique.

bruised knuckles and broken toys (revised)

Posted in Poetry on December 9th, 2020 by D'jaevle

we trade making a scene
for quiet today
is the cessation of dreams
the price we must pay?

hold onto these words, less we forget
that a lifetime of almosts
is one of regret

the longer I live
the more that I find
the things I miss most
are the dreams left behind

not callous, not simple, not shallow or clothed
but bared and complex, deep and exposed

not careful, not silent, not restrained or delayed
but reckless and furied, freed and remade

not counting the rings in the circles I’ve walked
but remembering the falls and the chances I’ve stalked

you can promise the peace of a path well traveled and tested
and I’ll show you my scars where the best have been bested

now tell me you’re listening
and I’ll tell you this:
a life that’s worth living
is too easily missed

portal

Posted in Poetry on November 24th, 2020 by D'jaevle

even though it’s closed
there must be another side
to this door

I’ve never seen it open.
but I know you went through it

I think –
you lean against it
listening
for my voice

even though its closed
there must be another side
to your story.

origami

Posted in Poetry on November 23rd, 2020 by D'jaevle


there are so many ways
for you to unfold

remember that fortune-telling game
at school
calling out numbers
and colors
to determine 
what kind of house you will live in
hut / boathouse / mansion

life would be so much
simpler
if we limited to just 
a few
options.

but anyone who has tried origami
can tell you.
even folding paper
is not simple

figurative vs. literal

Posted in Poetry on November 10th, 2020 by D'jaevle

I can touch the night sky.
literally.

reach up with both hands
peel back the black
and reveal that stars
aren’t
really
stars

they are the dust of our dreams.
bright and powerful enough
to burn holes in the void.

(for L&L)

not where you looked last

Posted in Crimson Writ, Poetry on October 29th, 2020 by D'jaevle

you want to disappear
but I know
all your
hiding
places

you want to be lost
but I know
it’s because
it means being
somewhere
new

you want nothing.
but I know
you really
want everything

you’ve just
been taught
not to ask.

sheer

Posted in Crimson Writ, Poetry on October 12th, 2020 by D'jaevle

you cannot say
“this is enough.”
when
the thought
of your thighs
makes the world
too small
to hold
my
hunger

janus

Posted in Crimson Writ, Poetry on September 13th, 2020 by D'jaevle

spilt

Posted in Poetry on August 26th, 2020 by D'jaevle

you like to hold
your cup
like it might
shatter
if I speak.

I noticed today
that you put
all the glassware
behind the cereal

so I’m waiting
to see
if you ask me
for milk.