Schrodinger’s Silas

I like to relax within boxes.

I promise!

This is not a deep metaphor
About my thought process.


I simply crave to cram inside cramped cardboard.
To take what was once trivial trash
Transformed with its purpose restored.

Hear me out!

Feline tendencies tend to tease
And tickle all of my fantasies.
It’s simply fallacy to believe
This poem contains deep metaphors or analogies.

Just kidding!

This poem has always been about
How my brain may easily break out
Of any sort of box it’s contained.

For even when I relax within boxes,
Outside of boxes my thoughts remain.


The Phoenix

A born again phoenix risen up from the ashes.
Sometimes our worst crashes spark the best new beginnings.

Our losing is winning.

The tears of this phoenix have the ability to heal.
My heart I’ll no longer seal but wear it on my sleeve.

Rejoice after we grieve.

Christianity Insanity

Words flow from my pen like the blood in my veins.
Each letter screaming out the Truth that God reigns,
Who masterfully crafted each synapse in my brain,
Though all outside observers diagnose me as insane.

But I’ve a desire to see my I’s become We’s.
Every image of God to catch this disease
To do God’s work rather than doing as we please,
Or perhaps pleased to do His work on our knees.
Outraged by injustice done by our broken decrees,
Though we are all broken, so each day let us seize,
For fixing what’s broken will not be done with ease.

I swear, every night, I hear my Father talk:
“Silas, my servant, pick up your mat and walk.”

Hookah Lounge

Three candles lit in a lamp hung from the ceiling.
Two love sacs sit to paint community more appealing.
One hookah pipe split amongst friends for our healing.
Countless smoke filled bubbles built by our breathing.

We each sink down into a bean bag chair.
Caught in a snare. The ceiling we stare.

For the flames of the candles put on for us a show.
The light reflected above reflects the flux and flow
Of the ocean I’d wade in and its waves I’d ride slow
Down to the shore line without a surf board below.

We found beauty buried amidst the mess of Skid Row.

The Praying Man(tis)

Oh wise Mantis, please teach me your ways.
Overt prayer to receive continual praise.
Feigned innocence to lure in all of your prey.
A close partner with no hesitation to betray.

The pharisee studies and marvels at his find.
He soon shall be worshiped by all of mankind,
Paying no heed to the one who designed
The world that surrounds and our complicated mind.

Hold your friends close and your enemies closer.
When it’s time to strike, keep your composure.
Of your sinister plan, give no disclosure.
Let not a soul know you play the part of a poser.

Greyscale Dreams

I’ve got a few colors on my mind.
Every night in my sleep I find
Black, grey, white inside.

Some say greyscale’s the lack of color.
But that’s all I see
In my dreams,
And, my God, they’re full of color.

The Drinking Game

I walk a thin line.
Every sip risks a stumble.
I play mind poker
With memory chips to fumble.

I walk a thin line.
I let out a silent chuckle.
I sip from a glass
Gripped with a white knuckle.

I walk a thin line.
The pot’s full of promise.
I had raised my bet
With a hand most novice.

I walk a thin line
With confidence unshaken.
I down my last glass
To dance with the mass,
Yet the couch I awaken.

My memory chips were taken.
I walk a thin line.