A villanelle for Arthur H. Monigold.

A poem, for "Her."

This piece was written in 2003. After months of suppressing it, I let my anger wash over me. This is the result. It’s not pretty, or particularly well written, but it is raw and very much stream-of-consciousness.

Meditative thought for reflection.

I wrote this about depression which can be a constant battle if you so allow it to be. Depression can be dark as I intended the first of this poem to be, and I could define depression as a horror because in some peoples lives it is,always stuggling with yourself and your deep dark thoughts which can lead you to feel guilt, pity and so on until you become like an empty shell but there is a way out and only one person can truly help with that, the person who has it!

Her softness is both lure and limit.

On how insomnia can eat away at you.