There is no such object in my way
That I have not placed there myself.

Move society aside and
There is no insurmountable elevation
I did not raise myself.

In abluting these inexcusable
Exigencies of my conflated self
I can finally see
And in seeing
Then configurate
The right way out.

Ode To A Writer

Carve within your soul a space
For all you want to do,
All other lives, no better place,
To navigate for you.

Ego’s lease, no lesser rate,
If others would deprive,
Nothing more may captivate
Than knowing you will thrive.

No more boors to prop a door
Enforcing your denial,
Renounce a vestige of their chores
And write your script awhile.

Create a space within your day
And see your lines alit,
As incremental time gives way
To charm, and grace, and wit.