Spider Web

I did not see you



Wearing only

Water strung like pearls

Your luring architecture mastered over centuries

A geometric maze

I sit and  wonder how many innocent lives you have taken

So proudly displayed upon your

Mandala patterned streets

Various colored lights of

Blue, red and yellow blushing gold

In the dusky light of dawn

As you take my soul

Memory by memory

Thought by thought

*First Place Winner of the EWF Young Writers Contest Canada 2011

*Published in FRED Mensa magazine

*Second Runner up for the New Zealand International Poetry Contest

*Published in the “Anthology of Poetry by Young Americans” 2012

An Open Letter for My Sister (Graduation 2011)

Time passed in a childlike fashion

As we played games around the house

Dress up and piggy back rides

Are now embedded in the past

But not forgotten

Memories of laughter

Episodes of anger

And outbursts of emotion

All conventions of our sisterhood

Still chasing after each other

In this shifting ground of life

Now is not the time

To plant your feet firmly

The soil is loose

For you to shape

A path of your own

In this unbound future

My sister

Go forth

Diary: A Train of Thoughts

Diary:  A Train of Thoughts

Day #1

The air was thick with thoughts clinging from the curled waves.  A blue within a blue where many lives are nurtured from the endless azure, deep, deep in its thoughts.

Day #2

Holding life in one’s hand is like a bubble.  The gift of a small glazed sphere reflecting the colors of hopes and dreams .  A life can burst in an instant like a fountain of golden memories.

Day #3

Frothy sea foam ices the wave tips like a topping of a cupcake.  Underneath the sweet icing lies a substance of ingredients, buttered fish and floured flounders to wet the appetite.

Day #4

I am surrounded by an inky darkness.  Windows to others death. Forced to carve the small pine box as a desperate  way to appease the small beam of life within the feathered heart.  Permanent ruby stain on the doily and another cutting memory to my medley.

Day #5

Life is a story, a living prose, a poem at times, a beat to a stanza, a subtle line, a cutting word , a rhythmic syllable or simply a clean crisp letter.

Sad Things

A single crystal tear falling onto a page

Churning the ink with sadness

Leaking from the heart

Unable to tell the difference between scarlet plumage and a drop of blood

That feeling where all hope is shrunk

From a whale to a thimble

Small and reflecting truth

A dandelion wish blown from chapped bleeding lips

To never come true

Finding a seashell with its jagged unbuffed edge

When your balloon has burst leaving you

Only a small fragmented  piece

That had been stretched too far with dreams


I contemplate how to scatter lupine seeds

To give them a chance to bloom

in their colorful hues of pink, purple and blue

Not to be blown down

To the street with its yellow landing strip running parallel to an abyss of darkness

I wish to scatter them smooth as sea-glass

Row by row

With a golden opportunity to grow

Against the backdrop of the sunset


Published in Amazing Kids ! magazine