Eye of the Mountain
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Writing about breaking into reality.
Essays, memoir and poetry on attention, grief, belonging and aliveness. What does it take to live beyond survival and projection? How do we move towards participation and thriving?
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Tip of the Spear
Imagines a child standing at the leading edge of an ancestral formation, supported by parents and generations behind him. The poem reframes individual courage as the visible point of a much larger inheritance.
Adolescence, the Test of Love
Frames adolescence as love’s test: whether a parent can tolerate a child’s separation, defiance, and independent identity without withdrawing connection.
Fragile Shoots
Asks the reader to protect the first fragile signs of renewed desire and play, especially when emerging aliveness still feels awkward, impractical, or easy to crush.
Venomous Voice
Dissects the moral superiority hidden inside compulsive giving, showing how generosity becomes poisonous when it is used to purchase identity, leverage, or repayment.
Porous
Considers the body as a porous, changing field whose boundaries expand with movement and perception, replacing the fantasy of a fixed self with participation in an environment.
Faking of the Faking
Examines the recursive loss of authenticity when imitation copies imitation and performance replaces contact with an original impulse. Form survives while lived meaning becomes progressively hollow.
Dating Profiles
Satirizes dating-app self-presentation by making projection, maternal longing, rejection practice, and domestic expectations explicit. The joke exposes how profiles market fantasies instead of introducing real people.
Facing the Void
Stages surrender at the cliff where the former self and its guarantees end. Leaping becomes an act of love and faith: freedom lies not in securing a landing but in no longer requiring one.
A Pariddle of Feral
Inside us live we have a hierarchy of creatures. This myth-poem is about captivity, ferality, and the parts of us that carry our souls to freedom.
You call it a wasteland?
Some people see ruin. I see the raw material of rebirth. This is a spoken-word meditation on destruction and what can grow in its ashes.
The Weight
Trauma doesn’t just wound — it weighs. This is a litany of the heaviness I’ve carried, written not to collapse under it but to name it, so it can finally be set down.
Between the Abyss and the Void
Locates a narrow path between overwhelm and disappearance, the two directions a traumatized self can fall. Balance means remaining embodied on that edge without being consumed or erased.