pass the rosy wine


Lately, I’ve been slacking on posting poetry. I’m sure most of you that follow me just want to see the random pictures I post and quotes that I re-quote. Well, every now and then, you’ll get a little glimpse of me through some words that I happen to type; that might resemble something like poetry. 

“It’s strange that words are so inadequate. Yet, like the asthmatic struggling for breath, so the lover must struggle for words.”

—   T.S. Elliot


I don’t know what to say
I suppose I won’t say anything at all

When your mind is foggy
When your heart is full

What can you say
When you want to say everything

But words won’t come out 

Simple Things

Sometimes I wish
I could go back to

I could make mistakes
I could fail
I could try again

Life was not as grey
Things were

Right and Wrong
Yes and No
or Accolades

I suppose life
Is still the same

At the very least
Keeps the little flame of hope
We’ve held onto
Since childhood
Dimly lit

Life is tough
Get a helmet
Glazed in laughter

And maybe
Just maybe
We can be okay

It’s all the same really
We’re just kids
With new ways
To Forget

New ways to cope

Holding on to our
Dimly lit flame
of hope 

The Royal Bird

Can you all tell that I’m having a hard time at work? Well it sucks.

This is my first “real-world” job, hopefully not all jobs make me feel this way. Here’s a poem to illustrate my feelings:

How strange it is
To smile at your boss
Then kill yourself in a
Dark corner 

With spider webs
Suspending you in the air.
My hand taped into a
Rigor mortis royal bird 

That will show them. 


Thinking about leaving my friends here in Korea as I’m getting ready to go home. I wrote this one for them. 


Despite the little time
We have left. 

Despite the short time
that we’ve spent. 

Despite the distance
that will keep 
us apart. 

Just know,
there you will be
In my tiny heart

Within my heart
Kept safe in my thoughts

The Token First Post

I’m here to post my interests, my passions, and my story through whatever mediums that inspire me. 

Today I’m inspired by poetry

Last Picnic

By: Charles Simic

Before the fall rains come,
Let’s have one more picnic,
Now that the leaves are turning color
And the grass is still green in places.

Bread, cheese and some black grapes
Ought to be enough,
And a bottle of red wine to toast the crows
Puzzled to find us sitting here.

If it gets cold
and it will
I’ll hold you close.
Night will come early.
We’ll watch the sky, hoping for a full moon
To light our way home.

And if there isn’t one, we’ll put all our trust 
In your book of matches
And my sense of direction
As we grope our way in the dark.