Ebb and Flow

I could write dissertations

on the science of happiness

But I don’t.

Instead I write poems

(or a lack thereof)

and wade through its ebbs and flows,

watching as it drowns me

eludes me

brings me forward

pushes me away–

And I would study its every molecule,

separate its every hue,

document every euphoria,

diagnose every anxiety,

and spend each day observing every bright wonderful night

if only I knew





“Bright Wonderful Night”


366 Poems: December 30th, 2016

The Pursuit of Perfection

In the Constitution,

nobody wrote it as “life, liberty,

and the pursuit of perfection.”

(And if they did, they were lying.)

Now today people walk around

with heavy overcoats filled with lies,

looking for the “perfect” this, selling the “perfect” that,

and sometimes it seems that life and liberty

and happiness

fade away.

But you don’t wear overcoats.

In fact you’re quite the light packer,

saying that you don’t mind the cold.

And you’re stubborn,

and you’re disorganized,

and you’re pretty shy when it comes to conversation

and don’t have much faith in your place in the American education system.

But like many people finding their way,

I wasn’t in this race

for the pursuit of perfection.


And yet it was in you that I found it.

366 Poems: December 22nd, 2016


I live for every beautiful


flaw in this world.

Every tough question.

Every dark day.

I live for every day that I learn more about myself

and the universe.

Because on every day I dies

of fear,


or anxiety,

the words I wrote told me it was time to live.

“Live I n s i d e”

366 Poems: December 3rd, 2016

It’s a Gift

Knees shaking, cheeks twinging, smiles sparkling

as the happiness overflows.

Now, let’s see… a gift for you,

a gift for them,

a gift for her,

a gift for him,

a gift for me? Oh, most certainly


Just the anticipation of the feeling

when I walk into the hall as the band


and my friends stand along the wall

nodding their heads to the tunes of bells

and sleighs.

And the ever-glowing music grows

as I pass out the special gifts,

watch her open her bag in glee,

wrap the jacket around his shoulders,

give her a hug when she opens hers,

growing, growing,

even when the band stops



It’s the best gift in the world.

“Merry Christmas 2011”

366 Poems: October 26th, 2016

Hot Cider

These last few days have been days

of cinnamon and spice,

of cold, cold winds

and things that are not always

so nice.

But today is a day of hot apple cider,

Of warm, sweet, sweet love

and understanding.

Of that feeling when the sharp wind

pulls you around,

and yet still a fire burns in your stomach.

Calling for,

begging for,

yearning for

a home.

Because today is our world’s desperate peace.