No Name by Academy Monthly

I can't control it 

He makes me feel unwanted

I hear my own heart beat

I am shaken 

I am frantic  

My innocence has fled

Who am I 

The virgin that once was

I have no self control 


Never to be found 

I can't control it 


I am in control

He makes me feel wanted

I hear the excitment from my heart

I am content

I am at ease

My innocence is in my hands

I am me

The virgin

I have all the control


Never to be lost 

I am in control

untitled 3 by Academy Monthly

I cry for Him

I cry for his family

I cry for his friends

though I feel as though I don't deserve to cry, I don't have the right to cry

I didn't know him

I don't know his family

But I do know his friends

The halls filled with grief

Silence, besides heavy sobs that echo throughout the halls

Not a smile showing

Only tears flowing

I cry in sorrow

My eyes heavy, my head pounding,

I cry

I cry in fear of losing you all

I cry in fear of being that friend

The one who becomes limp while I hold them in my arms as they drench my hair with their tears

I cry for the thought of being them

I whisper a faint I love you

For I cry in fear of you not being here tomorrow

untitled 2 by Academy Monthly

I sit at a table
A long Car ride filled with excitement
Smell of turkey filling the air
Grandfather's singing
Plates full of stuffing
Cousins passing gravy
Smiles forever gleaming
Kids Table surrounded by laughter and glee
Forks banging
I bring out the games
Laughter ringing
Too many words
Goofy Smiles
I beg not to go
I beg not to go
Or to bring them all with me

I sit at a table
A short car ride filled with screens
Smell of turkey filling the air
Grandfather's missing
Plates full of stuffing
Few cousins passing gravy
Smiles rarely gleaming
Adults Table surrounded by stares
Forks banging
the games are all gone
Laughter Dying
Not enough words
Rare Goofy Smiles
I beg to go
I beg to go
Or to give the keys to me

Tell me. 
Where did all the laughter go.
Where did all the laughter go.

untitled 1 by Academy Monthly

He lays
Eyes closed
Blue complexion
Skin Clenching to bone
Still blue lips
Clothes not truly worn
I stare for a twitch
I wait for a beat
My eyes swell
Sore and damp
Scared to blink
Because I might miss a breath
Tear stained White silk cloud
He lays

Written in Stone by Academy Monthly

a crowd, a room, and a door.
amongst the chaos of coughing men
women and children,
a man records his final message.

his fingers bleed and his nails snap
as he digs his dying fingers
into the crumbling wall of the chamber.
as he digs his dying fingers
into what remains of his eroded soul.

if there really is a god, he scrapes,
he will have to beg
for my

Back by Academy Monthly

Heat scorched,
smoke filled,
soot soaked,
paint peeled,
haunting room.
He rushes
Back to her,
a face in a frame,
dust coated
by ash coating.
Grief hidden,
consumed by flame.

Throat burns,
coated in ash.
He gasps for air.
Vision blurred.
Memory burned
into his brain.
He can see her
right there,
a smoky ghost.
This time,
he could save her.

Roses 52.31.4 by Academy Monthly

The small dots of light sprinkle the dark sheet of sky
And my eyelids fall victim to exhaustion.
My mind is snared
And dragged against its will
Into the same damp, endless rabbit hole.
As I spiral down
Through the thick clouds of smog
I catch glimpses of the cold, mud-caked
Prison-like walls.
Corners of shattered, jagged frames
Break trough the wall’s surface,
Reflecting broken light into my eyes.
The torn photographs
No longer comfortably in their frames,
But floating through the haze,
Contain moments that demand remembrance.
Old, worn out toys and teddy bears
Poke their heads through the dirt,
And glare at me with their forgotten beady eyes,
And follow me as I descend.
Sooty, golden watches hang limply from roots
Not ticking, but laughing at my pleas
To escape this frozen tunnel.
My cheeks sting from the miles of cold, musty air
That sit calmly, disturbed by nothing
Except for my presence.
White roses painted red,
Lie at the bottom,
Ripped from the soil and left to die.
Their thorns threaten me
And the bloody anticipation
Gnaws at my heart.
As I get closer and the details become clearer,
I can see the red paint chipping from the delicate petals,
Your treacherous effort wasted,
And revealing the now stained white.
I wait for the end of the tunnel
To engulf my fragile bones,
But I do not hit the bottom
Until a rooster crows,
And the sun burns my eyes.

Descent by Academy Monthly

What does it feel like

Knowing your best work is behind you

What does it feel like

Knowing that after all the progress you've made, you won't progress much further

What does it feel like

Knowing that you can no longer deliver what they've come to expect of you


You can't,

You won't,

You're unwilling to-


What does it feel like to have your best days behind you

It looks a lot like a forced smile

Sandpaper running across already scorched skin

The clamor of crashing tears

Denial continually striking you until each word bleeds onto the page, a piece of the confession


Today feels like another day,

knowing my best work is behind me


A lifeless descent-

A Ghoulish Glow by Academy Monthly

The Jack-O-Lantern’s glow
Carries me back to those cold nights
The irresistible October chill
Ruffling costumes with each hurried step
Bags full of candy later to be categorized
Never has anyone been so delighted by fear
Than a child searching for werewolves during a full moon
Magic lingers in that luminous Halloween glow
Even as daylight brings it to a dim

Remember to Fly by Academy Monthly

Remember to fly
Drawing curved lines
on a canvas painted white
Letting the paint fly
and hit the face;
cold, crisp, clean

Remember to breathe
Inhale the ice
that cools the fire
deep within the soul
remembers to fly

Remember to look
soft ivory cathedrals
dotted by green brushed idols
wrap the world in gentle bedsheets

Remember to climb
Spiral upward into
deep eggshell blue
dropping ground away
creates fire in the wings
wings that do not melt

Remember to soar
above the earth
secured solely by a gossamer thread
that could break
in that possibility a freedom
pulling fire from the belly to the wings
to be able to soar
in the beautiful angry calm

Remember to plunge
back into the paint
fire burning brighter than ever
mind still as ice
moving faster, faster
back to earth

Remember to fly
Drawing curved lines
on a canvas painted white
letting the paint fly
and hit the face
cold, crisp, clean

Commentary- This poem was inspired by two skiing video's "Remember to fly" by super proof inc. ( and "Vuelo" which is a visual poem on YouTube by Salomon Freeski TV. My work "Remember to fly" portraits a cycle of backcountry skiing and the beauty and sometimes spiritual feelings that go along with that.

Machine by Academy Monthly

I know what it's like
to pass by the library windows
the shiny senior lot car door
the distorted ripples of the Wissahickon
my reflection in surface X, Y, or Z

and look away.

But other times I stare
into the eyes I was born with framed
by lashes I painted
at the hair I cut in the color I've changed
at the sweater I bought to hide
the frame I've spent hours shaping
and sharpening
At this frown formed
by habit,
by nature now.

The internal struggle
I mustn't trust my own thoughts
for they are not my own anymore
Yet they tantrum
They throw themselves against walls
A crescendo of do this, do that, stop, go, hide,
Colliding, crashing, exclamation point

Anxiety attack.

Chew by Academy Monthly

The Knife bit the wood.

Fibers split and curled

As the blade gradually

Shrank the circumference.


The 5¢ gum passed

Her lips and the time.

Stakes for vampires and stakes for the rain

The little girl mused.


She wasn’t wrong.


The winds swirled their way

Up the coast

Just like the eldritch

Beasts of lore.


In time,

The Lime green tarps

Would be whirled away,

Eaten. Along with the stakes.


The Yawning maw

Would suck the gristle

And snap the arteries

The land would crumble

Metal, break and bend.



In time.


The skies would regurgitate

The stakes,

The knife.

And the 5¢ gum packet.


But the little girl

Would be swallowed by the sea.

amity: the mintons by Academy Monthly

They contemplate each other

Like portraits

Completely covering bleak, dusty walls-


They skipped contemplation.

They never felt

In the vulnerable darkness

For another itching hand

Hungry to saturate

With scarlet passion.

They grew into each other.


They paint each other

With tender strokes

And silent movements-


They skipped painting

Because even before shirts were lifted

They discovered their own brilliance

Kissed onto the other’s glowing body.


They paint together

With intersected- intertwined- fingers,

Gently grazing one another

Like the brush-

Which smells of dusty homes

Left like that in acceptance of imperfection-

On the simple canvas.

And when they have finished their creation,

They melt together

Into the vast ocean-

A wave only glimpsed, and envied

For its ease.


adulation and obsession: john and mona by Academy Monthly

He met her in an advertisement-

Like a mail-order bride-

And branded himself with it,

His fingers seizing against the golden sun,

Crying hysterical laughter.

The huge idea of her

Rolled over his paralyzed body,

Pressing him violently together,

Fusing his bones so that

He felt there was not empty space inside of him.


She met him among other faces

That she also couldn’t see

And other equal hearts

That she only wanted

To explode briefly.

She recoiled from love in its grossest form-


Knowing the dangers of men

Wanting to skin her and leave her

Ugly flesh exposed.                                                                       


Like cocaine

She was sewn into his brain,

Not his heart.

She turned him into a delirious clown

Trying to rip King Arthur’s rightful sword from its rock

To brandish it childishly at her golden heart.

She melted it with the heat of her words

Until it was nothing but a puddle of stupidity

Lying helplessly at her feet.

He thought her an ice queen

But refused to chip away the cement

That glued them together.


He craved her,

She craved more,

More connections and love

To fill her withering world.

And when she could find none,

She proved herself an ice queen

And dipping her fingers into death,

She suspended her beauty in ice.


He grieved for the loss

Of something he never fully understood.


poem one by Academy Monthly

To wake up everyday
Praying that you will not see
Styrofoam in the mirror
Under the fluorescent lights in the bathroom
That already stab at your eyes enough
Is empty.
You're empty of understanding
That you cannot prevent yourself
From melting and molding
Under the incredible factory heat.
I'm empty enough.

To wake up everyday
Promising not to step in footprints
Already on the muddy ground
Saturated with a million treads
Is stupid.
Youre stupid enough to forget about the treads over rickety bridges
In just the right position to prevent their crumbling.
Im stupid enough.

To not want to fit into the crook
Of another body,
A beautiful body.
That holds beneath its flimsy skin and paper bones
Something tougher than rubber,
Impossible to bite through even with hungry envy
Is naïve.
You're too naïve to know
What it feels like to have your heart explode
And your rib cage burst apart and splatter against you
In freedom.
I'm too naïve.

To not want to reach across the seats of the car to grab at something,
A pleather armrest,
The old sweatshirt that smells of movie popcorn tucked in between the chairs,
The flimsy skin and rubber soul next to you,
As you squeal against the slick black
Is proud.
You're too proud to paint your face
Red with emotion
Each day, each hour, each minute,
Vomitting the truth-your truth-
Onto startled faces
That are paralyzed,
Trying to prevent the moment from ending
Because they hear the beautiful truth less than
They remember to turn off the bathroom light before bed.
I'm not too proud.

a smuggling operation gone awry by Academy Monthly

The rat-child

riskily returns, coming around the corner.

He stops

A small opening

The portal to success

And to freedom.

Shoves the brown sack

filled with food, snacks,

and memories of those



will not return.

He pushes the consignment through the wall’s hole

with a tiny huff of breath:

physical evidence he is still alive.

He still breathes.

Step one is done;

Step two: get himself through.

Inserts his head, his arms

grasping and reaching and pushing and clawing.

On the other side, the rumble begins.

JUDEN!  Jew!

A thousand monsters descend upon his back

I grab his stick-arms, his free half, and pull

His screams ring louder

and louder,

daggers to my ears.

He curses his traitorous body

The stubborn hips that are stuck

But I

Do not

Give up.


That is, until

Spine cracks

And body is slack.


Somewhere, the Germans celebrate.

requiem part II by Academy Monthly


when the strong unholy high winds

finished their whistling whiplash song &

the ravenous, reclaiming Gulf

had no more doors to unhinge

no more low-ridged roofs to unshingle

& the deep, dark churn

& acceleration

of Oya’s blue-grey-black waves

settled under her command

& finally all the timbers were





We saw what was there

                  buildings snapped like twigs

                  collapsed like red lungs turned grey

                  overcome by water

We saw them

                  the nameless

                  the faceless

                  suspended, motionless, surrounded by water

We shouted it in the streets

                  graffitied the walls:


                  Fuck you Whore KATRINA”

                  prisoners to the water

Are you coming for us?


                  O Lord, we pray for relief.

                  Relief from the water.


We mourn ourselves.

pyrrhus by Academy Monthly

the wine turned

to water  while

 wings become

 webs   that stretch

 across skulls and souls

 the bricks  of mortals break when?

When you see over men

who have sought  the

sun   baked in bones

they are over man

because there is no more man.

 man has been

 broken and burnt and stolen

looked upon  when  his power lost

   his power   found in

 the sickened and the shattered

  see exodus reign when

     the cross is down

    its edges do not

   bend  but break

a symmetry starved

a symmetry saved

what man fights for

 a hell  may be