Can You Hear the Rain?

Can you hear the rain?
The sound it makes as it hits the roof
It’s like the lovers kiss
After passion is spent
And they lay in each other’s arms
Do you hear the soft wind?
Like the gentle sighs
Of their contentment
The rise and fall
Of their breath as they make love
The impassioned cries
Now distant thunder
Echoes in their pounding hearts
Two hearts beating as one
Can you hear the rain?


This poem was written for my dad after he passed.  Miss you daddy.  

Fate came at me
with a dancers grace.
It stole my heart
and shamed my face.
Death looked out
to see what it could find.
Took you away, left me behind.
A broken heart
left with no way to heal.
The anger and pain is all
I seem to feel.  
The tears silently
run down my cheeks
and the pain slowly hollows
out my heart after weeks.
No longer will you be there
to walk me down the aisle.
Because of that  I feel great pain
and a sorrow that’s vile.
Sadness has crept
through happiness’ gate.
And left behind is only a memory
of you, who was claimed by fate.



Drifting through the breeze
of memories
swaying from side to side.
A sigh.
A breath.
The emptiness swallows the heart
as it struggles for

Torn and
falling to the ground.
Listening as
spoken are the lies
that have broken it before.

The blood drips
from the body,
crimson streaks of
heartache and pain.
They give away what
was trying to hide behind a
false smile.

Two faces.
One presented to the world.
One kept hidden.
One happy.
The other sad.
A frown, a tear.
Worry and fear
written across it.

Others only see
what is allowed to be shown.
A fraction of what is felt,
a fraction of what there is.
A small amount of the pain,
less than half the tears cried.

As with the pain,
happiness is hidden
behind the wall
of an unexpressing face.
Protecting it from pain
that is inflicted by others,
avoiding betrayal
avoiding disappointment.


Standing between the past and present, she creates a balance of harmony with rhythms in her body never before seen.

She preforms an electric dance of angry smears across the blank canvas of her life as the pain slowly creeps into her body and mind.

Standing, he appears as a silhouette against the same blank canvas, but rather his picture is one full of colors, passion and love painting themselves across the stark white in a rainbow of colors.

The woman stands,  remembering what it was like when every honest bone in her body laughed with her sister at funny things that would surprise them.

Friends torn apart by life, growing apart.
The man watches her get swallowed by her pain, as they drift further apart.
Warm no longer, she stands alone, arms wrapped around her thin shivering frame.
The hard set of her shoulders warning him back from the edge.
Tars flow down her cheeks as pain fills her eyes, her body shaking as the surreal pieces of their lives as children fill her mind.
He watches, waits and loves.
She cries, dreams and remembers.


Behold the twilight by which the leaves have
written a sonnet singing of laughter.
Times when saying goodnight meant
seeing you another day,
times when my life didn’t feel battered by the staring eyes of
those who know nothing of the story.

Behold the moonlight that shines down,
engulfing me in a pale milky brightness
that has yet to spread to my soul.
Instead, I am forced to stand here,
believing that there was a reason for all of it.

behold the darkness that seems to
slowly inch its way across my soul
like a village of pain has moved itself in cottages
among all the happy memories,
singing macabre songs of death and ruin

behold the delight as suddenly,
someone sheds some sunlight on it all.
a simple kiss brings on light so radiant,
so bright that its as if my soul is singing
verse after verse of simple happiness.

behold the touch you have had on my life.
it is as if the fear and loathing in my soul has faded,
died if you will.
no longer am I staring ahead,
wondering what it feels like to not experience pain.