THE PARAGON JOURNAL BLOG 

July 28, 2017

They keep trying to sell me the virtues

of making it through life unscathed

as if we weren’t put here to make mistakes

and find beauty in the loopholes

I don’t really have the heart to say

it’s too late for me, for all their warnings

and I guess they won’t really care

to hear...

July 27, 2017

I have a limb that is dead.

It has stopped serving me long ago.

It has festered under the surface

for years and now

it is dark and immovable

and rotten at the core.

It is my bane and my handicap

and at times it still

throbs and ails me

and spreads poison

to the rest of my body.

I...

July 26, 2017

There are dragons

sleeping in his mind

waiting to be awakened

each night by the stories

I read to him

at bedtime.

There are seeds of sequoia trees

invisible but there

on the palms of his little hands

waiting to be planted

in a forest I cannot see

but I know is there

somewhere in h...

July 25, 2017

I wonder if, when rolling thunder breaks

the white noise cadence of this restless city,

I’m the only one who can hear the call of home

or are there others, looking up from the Jenga

towers of their daily struggles, straining to conjure

nights besieged by southwest monsoons...

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ISSN 2470-3834 (online)

ISSN 2470-7775 (print)