SHE WILL BE BELIEVED

SHE WILL BE BELIEVED

this case has stricken a chord for many women, and many men. all i feel equipped to do is write, support, and breathe with the woman who shared her pain; she who was brave enough to come forward with the undeniable credibility of the truth 

YOU ARE NOT ALONE

YOU ARE NOT ALONE

September is Suicide Prevention Month.    We need to speak up about MENTAL HEALTH, ADDICTION, and SUICIDE not only this month, but every month.    Take a moment to check in on loved ones today. Be kind. Try your best to listen, be non-judgmental and 

THE SALMON, WHALES, AND WE: A HOLY TRINITY.

THE SALMON, WHALES, AND WE: A HOLY TRINITY.

  To the Chinook fishermen and industry; please pause fishing for West Coast Salmon, and to consumers; please pause before you purchase. Doing this one simple act will create a ripple affect, and help extend what could otherwise be the last days of the resident 

CRICKET

CRICKET

      the silence that your sound makes, the words that still your heart. the distance forms between us, our voices worlds apart. aggression lags behind, and we see not who we are communion breaks the boundaries  that whisk away the mar, we make 

WHEN COMES THE STORM

WHEN COMES THE STORM

I don’t mean to stall you mid-sentence, but darling that’s the appeal. Don’t die Contemplating, Take action without Hesitation to the point that it is Dangerous to Do. What will Unleash itself in You when comes the Storm? The aesthetic and the ethics must coexist 

MY WORTH

MY WORTH

    I’m left wasted. I want to stay stop, but my body won’t oblige. I’m milking you. Sweet honey syrup on my tongue from where you left.         I need to let you go, let it go, let the figment fall 

PARADOXICAL MISTAKE

PARADOXICAL MISTAKE

she was free a paradoxical mess of contradictions mistakes oxymorons and vacant flaws a strong and fearless lion a lonely wounded bird her life a fragile map of chaotic beauty untainted by the hollow vortex of its poetic tragedy they didn’t much approve she wasn’t always decent 

SPILL 4

SPILL 4

It’s the wisdom of future, found by shaking the norm. It’s of feeling, through gesture; brought by way through the storm. It’s the curse that is broken by creation within. It’s the saddle that’s woven out of thread born of sin. Dual times stack upon 

I WEEP FOR THE GIRL

I WEEP FOR THE GIRL

This morning I walked to my childhood elementary school, and I wept for the girl who never grew up.   photo by berkley vopnfjörð Nostalgia is a funny thing. Our memories can be clouded by what others say, pictures that serve to remind us to fill 

TO LOVE IS BLIND

TO LOVE IS BLIND

How do you eject the feeling that you’re falling in love with every God Damn person who moves you, who inspires you? How do you stop the heart from leaping out your chest and laying still for all to breathe, observe, dissect?   How do