Latest Poems
Question Marks
It’s interesting, isn’t it? How teachers often tell us that any question is a bright question, and a good question’s only job is to be asked. But kindergarten was sixteen years ago, and my teachers don’t say this anymore. We stopped talking about questions a long time ago.
The Lord Is in Control
Like a sheep, wandering, hopeless, Lord, I walk through the valley; Such a wayward child, going the wrong way. Like a shepherd, You search for me despite my failings; Like a father, You’re ever near me every day.
I Hear a Song
I hear a song ringing at every corner of the earth, rung out from every human heart. A quartet, a chorus, full in every part, but empty; rich with every swell, and yet it wanders, imperfect in its beauty—flawed even in the depths of each new chord.
This Text Is Black
This text is black. “Like my soul,” says my generation, stringing up skeletons and spiderwebs and painting their walls and wardrobes to match. I watch the murky words fade into dull ears, and the reality of evil creates a cloudy ache in my chest. Colors are not tools to poke fun at its existence.
Fragments
Two broken youths in the wild wood watch the dying daylight fade among the ancient ferns.
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