Silence speaks louder than words
At a decibel too loud to be heard
As an abrupt disruption of nothin’
For our conversation consumption.

Its presence is chilling
And instant buzz-killing
Yet still we act
As if it’s not there.

Our tongues are untied
As the silence subsides
Yet still its message
Hangs heavy in the air.



The formation of ocean waves
Mystified me as a child.
I felt compelled to ask my God,
“What makes this ocean wild?”

Countless questions came soon after
For me to ask my Lord.
These days I feel, however,
My questions are oft’ ignored.

Or perhaps I simply need
To learn to raise my voice
Before I lose it altogether
And our silence’s not by choice.

Klepto Couches

My home houses countless couches.
Klepto-couches with pickpocket pouches
That swiftly swipe your cellular phone
Between the cushions of their comfy unknown.

Then your change jingles and jangles
Until they’re untangled
From your Wrangler jeans pocket
As you wonder where your socks went.

But your socks and shoes
Were swept under your feet
Right under your nose.

So discreet are these deceitful seats
As they watch you search
For the keys they stole.

At last your quest
Leads you straight to the crook.
“I should have guessed
The klepto-couches had took!”

But still your lesson
Has yet to be learned.
These klepto-couches
Deserve to be burned.


Hexadecimal gibberish
Representing ones and zeros
To command my machine
To print to its screen:
“May I be your one true hero?”

A private message encrypted
Via an algorithm scripted
By men we’ll never meet
Who allow me, from my seat,
To secretly send some
hexadecimal gibberish
To command your machine
To print to its screen:
“You claim I’m the one, but I’m a zero.”

Sips of Serum

Honesty is the best policy
If you’re considered prodigy
But I’m left a prodigal son
With money and meals my idolatry.

Spinning webs of lies
To hide the mess inside
Donning the mask of Jekyll
As I sip the serum of Hyde.