Poetry and Shorts
A collection of short works.

It’s likely my kids received their ADHD from me. For proof, I present several short creations. As a writer, I quickly jot down ideas. Sometimes, I can’t extend them into full articles, which the Medium algorithm doesn’t appreciate.
So, I’ve collected ten of my most recent favorites. The themes are mixed, emotions vary, and they have little in common except that they are all me.
People are complex, detailed, and magical all at the same time. I hope I’m able to convey that complexity in these short works.
Please enjoy.
Ride
My life is a roller coaster, and I think I’m going to puke.
The ups, downs, and loops take their toll.
If you sit in the front, the ride is smoother,
but the back seats shake you violently.
This month.
What is with October?
How can 31 days contain so many functions?
Three birthdays, one wedding anniversary, two birthday parties,
Halloween, four football games, four marching band competitions,
one karate competition, high school homecoming,
and a partridge in a pear tree.
Sometimes, I wonder if readers think I’m bipolar.
Poems
Poems don’t need to be long.
In fact, some say poems are just thoughts,
which, of course, you are.
My Wife
It bothers me my wife doesn’t appreciate music like I do. I remember thinking I could never marry anyone who doesn’t enjoy music the same way I do. Irony.
I could listen to a ten-minute track in pure bliss without saying anything to anyone. Yet, she can’t. I miss the blissful silence of music sometimes.
I feel it in my soul, and it awakens me. Over 15 years and words still fail me when attempting to explain it. I’m going to put it on my tombstone.
Coffee
It is a coincidence that my coffee matches my soul. Dark, plain, and bitter.
Daughters
Drawings on a table with broken crayons on the floor.
Shoes with disappearing socks.
Traveling jackets, shirts, makeup bags.
Bedtime routines and patting backs.
Brushing teeth and just one more YouTube video.
I climb into a bed much too small as it pinches my sides, yet I climb in every night, not knowing if tomorrow they’ll say, please don’t anymore.
Doomsday
How much news can you read until depression sets in?
War, another war, more shootings, traffic accidents, debt, congressional leaders, online companies, and laws that codify hate.
Where does the doom-scrolling end?
How can we continue this madness?
Have we become the previous generation?
We weren’t enough.
‘Merica
I buy books I don’t read, records I don’t open, and food I can’t eat fast enough before it spoils. The American Dream.
Writers Block
My last great article was weeks ago.
What’s happening?
I feel like I’m out of ideas, and I’m not sure how to get new ones.
What’s it like to become the thing you hate —
Content creator.
Writing for writing sake.
Alan Watts would laugh and take a walk. Steve Jobs would put on his glasses and take a walk.
I sit and stare at this white screen and wait for magic.
Somehow, it just keeps showing up.
Dear Swifties
If Taylor Swift can keep recording the same songs repeatedly and be called a genius, why can’t I copy and paste the same story from six months ago without getting banned?
Someone from Medium better get on that because we are missing a golden opportunity.
Christmas Music
It’s November 5th. Can I please have my Christmas music now?
I promise not to play it loud enough for my kids or wife to hear.
Mariah Carey is coming, and I need to be ready.
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