Daily Verse a short verse (almost) every day

On Friendship

The freedom to say
what’s on your mind
without filter or favor
is the epitome of true friendship.

It is when you are able to be
your most honest self,
with ease and with glee.

Spending time with friends
makes you feel lighter.
It eases the burden
and propels the jubilation.

So many things are easier with friends.
I have friends who really listen to what I say,
and I love them for it.
And I have friends who don’t really listen at all,
and I love them for that too.

It is good to be deep,
and wonderful to be glib. The interplay of ideas,
the banter of buddies,
the tandem of tone transcends
mere conversational exchange
and realizes the ever elusive state
of social comfort:
where no one is awkward,
no one is pretending,
no one is sacrificing for the sake of the other,
where two people in service to themselves
are perfectly servicing each other,
where the vibe is sweet,
and safe,
and good.

It is good to have friends.
And it is lucky to have friends.

Attention Span

Get more sleep, exercise.
A side of salad, not the fries.
Read a book, feed the soul.
Don’t fall into a Reddit hole.

Go outside, climb a hill.
Enough of solo Netflix & chill.
Be in nature, smell the flowers.
Stop YouTube after three hours.

Listen to people, call your gran.
Stop staring at girls on Instagram.
I’d make things better with this plan,
if only I had the attention span.


Your long slender fingers
come and intertwine,
as your lips approach
and interlock with mine.

I cannot feel you
without also being felt.
The soft strokes soothing,
the warmth that makes me melt.

The hum of your sweet voice
resonates within my chest.
Who knew that being this close
would help me open best.

Demon of Love

A demon of love was sent to me
to light my lips on fire.
Tall and bold and white and gold,
swaying to lute and lyre.

Three weeks in tempest spent aroused
with the hustle of a mini hoard:
a sustained release compacted dose
of the magical Maxxxie Ford.

Though her blood runs warm and eyes aflame
and she loves the seductive art,
beneath the masque and within her breast
beats a tender, angel’s heart.

There are those that fade from memory,
and those that scar the mind.
But a gentler, softer, sexier brand
nevermore shall I find.


The seas have risen,
there is fire in the sky.
The animals are all gone,
not a bird left to fly.

The flowers have turned to dust,
to ash the webs of vine.
Here, at the end, I ask of you:
will you be my valentine?