There is nothing like getting shacked.
Water rushing overhead.
The outside world is nothing more.
At last, pure bliss.
Water rushing overhead.
I let out an uncontrollable shout.
At last, pure bliss.
Nothing matters here, now.
I let out an uncontrollable shout.
All eyes on me.
Nothing matters here, now.
Drown out my stress.
All eyes on me.
I could do this all day.
Drown out my stress.
These waves are stacked.

I could do this all day.
The outside world is nothing more.
These waves are stacked.
There is nothing like getting shacked.

A List from Wishful Thinking

A consistent swell that created the perfect wave.

A longboard that doesn’t snap under pressure.

An unlimited supply of money that I could have at any time.

An all-access pass to Area 51.

A free dress day at school.

A supremely intelligent monkey that finished my school work.

An alternative fuel that didn’t kill the earth over time.

A way to easily change first impressions.

A world that could be a better place; peaceful.

A chance of love at first sight.

An end to the pursuit of happiness.

And I might not receive any of these,

Gee, so much for wishful thinking.

A limerick

There once was a toad from the Valley

All the while he hoped for a sally

So he hopped down the road

Got squashed by a load

That unfortunate toad from the Valley

The Air Was Heavy

The air was heavy and it pushed down on me like lost hope. The moon was above, but the darkness didn’t seem to creep out as much. The moon shone down on the land below me, which was Maui. I was standing atop Haleakalä, looking out across the ‘äina. The chilled air rushed over my body and made my skin hard and my hair stand up.

The glittering blackness came from the city lights at sea level. Cars flooded the streets that were once pathways. Buildings erected upon historic Hawaiian land. And sugar cane crops littered across the lay of the land. The never-ending run-of-the-mill that continued day to day, and night through night emits a flow of smoke released into the fresh Hawaiian air that rushes over me. The population continues to grow, and our ‘äina doesn’t.

The way it should be, quiet, isn’t thought of anymore. Once upon a time, the air whispered. The green was once green, and there were plenty of it. The ‘äina is a struggling glimmer of remembrance diminished throughout the ages. And here I stand atop Haleakalä, looking out across a timeline of historical development.


This is a poem that rises

In the heart of the believer,

That lifts your spirits,

Because sorrow lingers like a cloud overhead,

Because positive vibes grow on you like a hopeful promise,

And when sadness creeps on you,

And invades your mind like a cloudy storm,

This is the poem that lightens,

The darkness in your head,

Or the cloudy day above.


It Was for the Better

It was for the better

That you didn’t know

What was going on

How can I tell you


The truth about things

That you do not like

I promised to you I would

Always be safe


And I was and am

But how can I tell you

What is actually going on

When you would say no


I would have no life

So for now

Thank you

Because it was a great night.


The City Park Was Infested with People

The city park was infested with people, hot dog carts, and pets. The park had new life to it, and the rain seemed to be springing fresh hints of green into the landscape. Today was a special day. Today I am meeting the guy I have been longing for. The guy that will sweep me off my feet, and I’ll fall head first into his heart.

My last relationship was great while it lasted, but all good things come to an end. Now, I am left with a beautiful baby boy that I love with my whole heart. I am a single mother, and I am on the hunt for a man to love. I really hope that this guy could be the one. I’ve seen him around my studio every once in a while. He caught my eye, but he was always on the move so it didn’t seem like he had time for me. One day he came up to me, and we started talking. Everything was going well, and he asked me if I felt like doing something tomorrow, so I offered a walk in the park.

His name is Kyle, and we had planned to meet each other near the fountain. It definitely should not be hard to find. I have my baby boy Ryland strolling around with me, and Kyle knows it. I’m actually very surprised that he was eager to spend the day with me and Ryland, I thought that babies tended to scare away men from single mothers. That is points for Kyle in my book.

I was pushing Ryland in his stroller and was making my way to the fountain when I saw him. He was sitting on the rim of the fountain in a white collared shirt, khaki shorts, and shoes. His hair was windswept, which made him look much sexier. I rolled up with Ryland, and he gave us both a big, welcoming smile.

“Hey! I’m so happy you decided to spend the day with me here!”

I smiled back and answered like it wasn’t a big deal, “Ryland and I needed a day out anyway. I’m glad that you decided to spend the day with the both of us.”

“Well of course, anything to spend time with you.”

That was so sweet! See not all guys have to be shallow, I thought.

The day was going as planned. Everything was perfect. As the day came to an end, Ryland decided to start crying and he became very fussy. I could tell it was making Kyle a little irritated, so we stopped over by a bench, and I picked up Ryland into my arms and sat down. Kyle sat down to my right and put his arm around me. I let Ryland sit on my legs, and I started to pat his back.

“Would you mind it if I kissed you,” he said while staring deep into my eyes with his.

“I thought you’d never ask,” I said excitedly.

At that moment he leaned in, I closed my eyes and all I could smell was his aftershave. And then I couldn’t. I opened my eyes and saw him staring down at himself in disgust. Ryland had thrown up all over Kyle. His clothes were covered in puke.

“Oh my gosh! I am so sorry!” I said completely embarrassed.

“Maybe next time you shouldn’t bring the kid.” And he stood up and walked away leaving Ryland and me alone on the bench.

“No one talks like that about my baby boy,” I told Ryland. “Maybe next time, he should know what he is getting himself into. It’s you and me, Sweetheart.”


From the Darkness Came a Sound Like None Other

From the darkness came a sound like none other. He was not prepared to hear it. How could this be, he thought. Frantic, he paced the house floors repeatedly. That noise, the one beyond the darkness, has stumped him. The deed is not done, but he can’t move on. He turned to the faces that lay frozen on the floor, and thought hardly about his actions and what he had done. At that moment, his phone vibrated. Hesitant, he picked it from his pocket as if it weighed a ton and contemplated the thought of answering. He had no choice, and finally raised it to his ear and answered.

“Is it done?” The voice echoed.

This wasn’t a part of the plan, it shouldn’t be here! He thought. Finally he lied, “Yes.” And as it came out, he wished it hadn’t. There was no way around it, but he had to lie.

The voice replied with a sinister, yet delighted tone “Wonderful, I will see you soon.”

“Absolutely,” he said, and clicked the phone off. His hands were shaky now and his forehead beaded with sweat. The wailing beyond the darkness continued on. It began to ring deep in his mind and it drove him crazy. He couldn’t look into the eyes of his victims. It made him sick. The floor was smeared with their blood and it was a deep red under the darkness of night.

Suddenly, he began to act. He grabbed the canisters that were full of gasoline and vigorously poured it over the house. He made sure to soil every yard of flooring and furniture until they were empty. Then he turned to the hallway where the darkness was black where the wailing continued on, and on. In that moment, he moved. He moved as slow as possible. The door was white with floral paintings.It had a sign painted on it as well that read, “A baby is God’s opinion that the world should go on.” (Carl Sandburg) He closed his eyes, dropped his head and released the tears welled up in his eyes.  What have I done, he thought. He raised his hands and eased the door open, it didn’t make a sound. The room was the lightest shade of pink, along with a blue trim that lined just under and around the windowsills. White paintings on the walls are flowers, with lilies and daisies. Her crib was made of dark redwood and inside laid the baby he heard that was of the darkness. He walked towards the crib slowly.  The small light that was lit above her crib made her golden locks glisten.  Her blue eyes twinkled under the fluorescence like an ocean under the bluest of skies.  He picked her up and held her in the crook of his arms while covering her eyes, walked out the room and headed straight for the front door.

He grabs a lighter, flicks it open, and tosses it behind him.

“Boom,” he said and races down the street. Never to be seen again.


My Words

My words are the birds of the sky,

Flying free through the air,

Free of restrictions, free of mind,

Soaring across the paper

In effortless fashion,

Painting imagery in your mind’s eye


My words are the birds of the sky,

Coming together as one

They fly, making way into heart

And mind, they fly free.


Writing Philosophy

Writing is a way for me to release the creativity and clutter in my mind and expressively put it on something external.



Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This blog is kept spam free by WP-SpamFree.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.