I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)

Do not show your dog
On your dating profile pic
Not dating your dog

Sometimes, I think
I love coffee more than *****
It’s still there in the morning

Your love lights me up
Like a neon sign
But it seems, I’m just the moth

(by Douglas Aucoin and Ryan P. Kinney)
If I promise you the moon and the stars
Would you believe it?
I gave a woman this once.
She left me for her own universe.

What if I’m ****** up beyond repair
When the sky falls
And the world crumbles
And I wonder why I still get to wake up

You will just have to learn how to live broken
Make the flaws part of the story
And seal in the cracks with precious golden moments

The humdrum of machines. A missed cycle, a bad bearing, a bent fan blade.
It makes a music like no one would believe. The electric hum of powerlines and transformers. The clanks and jeers of a crowded bar, the cheers of an arena.

The construction on your neighbors houses while you set in humble shame. Jackhammers, swinging hammers. Little handlebar bicycle rings from the children you never had.

Sometimes, you want to say **** it, and burn the world down. Then you remember, some people aren't unhappy. It's not your place to sabotage their trampoline. Sometimes you're just who you are, and no one else, and nothing else matters.

Sometimes you're you. The rest of the times you're just trying to be.

I've lost another dear friend,
Another kindred spirit,
To the culling of this worsening
****** epidemic.

No more new poems
Waiting in my inbox.
No more just checking in.
No more redemption.

Just another empty hole
Pierced through our lives
Taken by the tip
Of a needle.

I'm not here to tell you anything you don't know, or show you anything you can't imagine. Not to expand your consciousness or "blow your mind."
( in the parlance of our time. )

I don't even know why I'm here, at all, at this place or on this planet, or in this existence.
( if that's what it really is. )

I'm not here to know the answer or spread the word, to think too hard, work too hard. But to follow my heart and fully embrace the passions it leads me to.
( a bundle of nerves that seem to have a mind of their own. )

When the world feels as if it's crushing in upon your chest, down upon your shoulders, turning deep within your stomach ... a ridiculous thing like a heart can give you the power to get up and push it back.
Thank you for filling mine up.

All the delayed flights and missed connections everywhere.
Making connections, breaking connections.
A design against futility, still the wind.

Kitchens I cooked in, trains I used to catch.

All the nights I've set awake, martyred on some kind of watch.
Taking directions, obeying erections.
A design against senility, still the mind.

Kittens I took in, dogs I once played fetch.

All the dreams of the past's futures have lapsed and are dying.
Failing selection, without objection.
A design against responsibility, still the road.

Cars I once drove in, land in one long stretch.

All the roads and all the cities are being rebuilt and crumbling.
Urban renewal, urban decay.
A design against anarchy, still the man.

Careers I worked in, living in one breath.

All the ends of all the tales and all the heroes found their death.
Poetic justice, blind justice.
A design against God, still the law.

Courts I appeared in, lawyer's corpse like stench.

All the trees in all the hard places in between know what I mean.
Natural selection, might is right.
A design against Nature, still the way.

Cartoons I once drew, laughing with my friends.

Imagine a world
no different than our own
except that
everything was sexualized.
Where women were criticized,
for how they dress
Where women were blamed
for the crimes of men.
Where men were pressured
to be what they’re not,
Where men were demeaned
for respecting women.
Imagine a world
no different than our own
except that
everything was divided.
Where whites fought with blacks,
over basic rights,
Where democrats fought with republicans
for not seeing eye-to-eye,
Where women fought with men,
for equality they deserve,
Where countries fought with countries,
for greed, power, and prestige.
Imagine a world
no different than our own
except that
life was fleeting.
Where people only lived
for limited years,
Where time was squandered
on things that don’t matter.
Where people were consumed
by greed, power, and prestige,
Where life was controlled
by the quest for more.

Imagine a world
no different than our own.