An Open Letter to the Sun

(As Written by the Moon)

Note: Occasionally re-posting some of my old favorites. Here’s another recent favorite. Comment and like below!

Dear Helios,

Its been a long while
Since I’ve seen you
Sat by you
Or felt warmed while you
Wile away the hours
Flying across the sky.
Where the hell are you?

The pine trees bend and break under the weight of winter
Because you are away over that horizon.
The forests release their beastly creatures
While you are away over that horizon.
I am surrounded by darkness- and it’s your fault-
people are dying- and it’s your fault-
Because you are snug and comfy,
Far, far away over that fucking horizon

I have seen your brightness
and damn do I miss it
Cause really, it is my ill reflected light that’s casting
Shadows on the shade of this earth
By my lack of light,
Graves lay restless in the abyss,
By my lack of light,
The city streets release their demons,
Haunting this creation
And men stumble amidst the brambles,
By me and my dim reflection.

I’ve tried so hard to shine and
failed. Tried but there’s
An Earth’s worth of dust
And dirt between us.
Plus, time is passing,
My light is waining,
and soon, I’ll let the darkness
in. Let it win when every
Remaining light wisps away.

Dust reflecting onto dust.
This has become the norm
So my eyes have adjusted to the dark.
If you returned, you’d only blind
us, ruin us.
So maybe just don’t come back.

But even as I write this,
Even from up here,
I feel a little warmth in the air.
A red-blue mural beauty is
Forming amidst the clouds in the distance,
a sunrise, forcing even the deepest blackness
To flee and wither to a shadow.

So, I guess I’ll see you soon.

The Moon


The Way Less Travelled

Note: strong borrowing from the great Robert Frost and scripture. Comment and like below!

I’d walked for hours and found a fork

The road diverged in two.

He took the one less traveled by

The choice is not that easy.

To the left are trees and plants

A few strewn rocks and dirt.

To the right are shrubs and grass

A sanded path and woods.

For many hours I thought and sweat

But could not near decide

The night grew long, the beast drew close

With panic near I prayed a sigh.

Then behind the trees

A backlit color in the canopy

The clouds pressed up by red

By its light I saw the trail.

The leftward was tempting me

A faint decline. No rugged turns.

A hand to help and bluebirds sang

“Now follow only what you yearn.”

The rightward way was difficult

Rocks on which to stumble

And beggars taking all I had

Until I’m left to ramble.

Your burden’s light

The choice obscure

But test my heart

And lead me there.

Word, Words, Etc

Note: For a far better version of the sentiment in this poem, check out Futile Devices by Sufjan Stevens. Comment on how mine compares below!

Words like an inkless pen

Etched blankly on your heart

Over and over and over

And over I try to write beloved

Onto each vesicle and chamber.


Words like an inkless pen,

Good for a prison weapon.

To harm to hurt to pry

To threaten and to riot.

Here they do their work well.


But still I write my words

In an inkless script: beloved.

A Toy’s Glory

Note: A few times in everyone’s life, somebody says something that changes them. Recently, someone close to me said “you’re not a disappointment” and it’s been ringing around my head every since. Like and Comment below!

Every boy, every girl has

a collection of toys.


The red blue lights on the cop car

A string to pull ‘to infinity’

Robots folding, bugs crawling

Barbarians with axes

And holy knights of faith

with crosses on their shields

And a sword engraved

“The Word of God.”


But who am I?


I am a nothing toy.

My fur is clay, mucked together

In oils left behind of overuse.

My eyes were lost.

I have no lights, swords

Talents, hidden compartments.

I barely have stuffing left.


I remember


For years I watched.

You giggled with the cars

And battled the barbarians and knights.

I was target practice for the darts

Use to pacify the youngest.


And yet


When you grew old

And packed away your things

I was chosen.

On my best days

I was a mongrel used for catch

And yet I was chosen.

Placed in a chest

Kept to be your treasure.

The Prince’s Pants

Note: It often seems like the silly stuff I write is my favorite. Comment below! (or the prince will lose his pants)

Once there was a Prince
With silly purple pants.

They were woven in France
(by tiny French ants)
with pink polka dots
splattered blue blots
frills, frails, and lots
of pocket hand slots;
But mostly just purple cloth
on the Prince’s purple pants.

on lookers winced
with deriding chants
and the Prince seemed to miss
his rather silly stance.

But things soon changed
And then the winter came
With it snowy wet dance
Others showed a shivered
But he never quivered
Like an iron sturdy lance
all along the English channel,
for in his silly purple pants
was, of course, silly purple flannel.

Zombie of Faith

Note: Feels a little silly, I’ll admit, but I had a dream and an idea during church so I ran with it. Don’t forget to leave a comment!

A believers walk is

a zombie shamble

Single minded searching

Stumbling down a broad alley

Fingers falling off

Eyes gouged out without

concern for anything but the goal.

Rotten flesh craving flesh

To fill maggot eaten holes.

You’ve been raised to life

and wretched still you walk

But press on despite decay and search

instead for light or you’ll rest

breathless in the dirt.

Shower in the Shadow

Note: Sometimes I shower with the lights off. The other day, I had had a crappy day at work and decided to revel in the misery. However, halfway through the shower, I realized that my eyes had adjusted and the pitch darkness was now visible. Felt like a metaphor.

He looked in the stone cut

and grouted shower

The tub like a valley

And turned off the lights.


He smelled the soap

that the concierge called

Saffron infusions and felt

Around for it, but hit wall.


He crouched  down

And would not sit or lean

Or lie. Only crouched

And closed his eyes.


The steam still filled his lungs

But the harsh darkness now

had a soft gentle glow. His eyes had lightened

And the darkness was not dark to him.