Ode to a Poet(writer)
I know you,
All alone
4am is when you feel most at home.
I feel you,
Blank page, full pen,
I see you,
Looking at a page waiting for a tale to unfold,
Behold!
When it starts, it flows,
I am you,
Hiding away, writing my pain,
Escaping reality,
Day to day,
We are art,
In the way we move,
We are the dreamer's and believer's
Pad and pen in hand til our dreams come true.
C. Tyler

HEY SOCIETY,
you don't really like us, so what do we do?
so we give in to stringing up all of our words
from our emotions and call it poetry
the same poetry that is left on the doorstep
at strictly three o'clock am in the morn
with the corners of the dollar store notebook torn
hey society, how about you share some of our
deep inner pain's blame?

SINCERELY,
the chaotic souls,
adrenaline junkies,
cursed delinquents,
paranoid teens,
and fluorescent adolescents.

maybe I am not
meant to fall in love with you
maybe nobody

that i've been reading your poetry
(on the new front page)
and,

I ******* love
your words; your worlds;
it's like i'm,
    there. right there,
with you.

you see, i didn't do what you do--
         write my story aloud
--when i was fifteen, or even twenty-two

just an inch off the ground
                        i confided in clouds
stayed lost (was a puff too proud)

that was then, sure, but even today
   (it's 11:11, now)
putting any of it down
committing to this word, not that
this sentiment,
      not that
this meaning
       (and not simultaneously that)
              is walking through fire

and so, for leading the way
           let me just say,
                       i love you

and please,
don't ever stop.

Your lips tasted
like the stars
i never got to see
because of the cities
bright lights.
And once our lips connected,
Meteors fell down to earth,
And the ground beneath us started crumbling.
For it was the end of the beginning,
And I couldn't have been more un-afraid.

we learned the same words but
not the same language

we sing the same notes but
not the same song

we walk the same road but
not the same paths

we didn't do right but
not the same wrong.

It is those nights again
Just after you switched off the lights
And hurried beneath your blankets
You were trying to shut your eyes
But then the world started to brighten up
Ray of sun breaks through your broken window pane
You washed your face
Checking on the mirror
“Okay, not bad.”
Looks up at the sky and asked:
“Did you talk to him today?”

“Did I talk to him today?”
Looks up the night sky and said:
“Okay not bad.”
Checked on the mirror
Washed my face
As soft light came through our broken window pane
The world started to dim down
I tried to shut my eyes
Hurried beneath my blankets
Switched off the lights
It has been those nights again