A fool for love
and for requite,
her golden brown mane
his fingers in tight,
souls were touched
in the night's quiet,
his tears roll a lane
her fingers in respite,
lover's etching their love,
sonnets they live
sonnets they write,
her golden brown mane
his fingers in tight,
then they sleep.

Imagine lying
in a lush green field
at the center
of an age old glen
Timeless is
this still life portrait
of what the gods
were like back then

In my solitude I still weep
  tears of unending wiles
  poisoned memories that I keep
  to hide the truth within my lies

In the confides of my room
In the coldness of my night
Away from the heat of the noon
Away from everyone's sight

For in pain I have built
my walled city from within
with its rooms, filled with guilt
and secrets that are unseen

I still cry not because they hurt
I cry because they're there
I cry to recognize their worth
not to wander too long in despair

In solitude I still weep
to lull myself to sleep

The time will come when it will all make sense, and the picture will be clearer.
Till then sit tight, breathe deep and keep your  limbs inside the ride.

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)

Lamenting
through pupillary logs
with disregard and no regret,
I look back
remembering as far as I can
tiny, specks.

I’m buried in a cocoon of stories
From poetry,
To biographies,
To dystopia,
And romance
So many stories
Of so many people
Real,
Or just figments of the author’s
Imagination
Sitting atop wooden bookshelves
Waiting for the right person,
To pick them up
And get lost in their story
For everyone has a story to tell,
Some are overly exaggerated,
And other’s are rarely heard
The important thing is
That we share our stories
Through word of mouth,
The internet,
Or in a notebook
To be found by future historians
Tell your story
Believe me, you won’t regret it

imahappyman iamgonnawriteahappypoem man

you can make
morning midnight
but you brighten dark days too
and, on the whole,
I'm happy to say
I have you

i asked you "what's wrong?"
for the twentieth time
this month

and you did not hesitate
to tell me that
you don't know

i never intended
to take apart
all the pieces
you glued back
together

I love him
I tell myself
I know that
We will be together forever
I don’t believe that
We could be separated
My thoughts tell me that
He’s the love of my life
Sometimes my heart lies and says
I could live an eternity
Without him
Like my friends say
“We’re perfect for each other”
And you can’t tell me
He’s not the one.

Now read from bottom to top.

Just as death claims his prize
6 more souls awake; arise
Mortality never has, nor can
Still the beating heart of "man."
As tender trickles fill the bowl
Earthly tasks consume the soul
Becoming all the eye can see
Til blinded by eternity.

I see the lights through the window
Forming shapes in your ceiling
We lie in bed and you look at me
You don't say what you are thinking
But you smile and get closer.

I hear the traffic through my window
Keeping me awake till late at night
Too late to say what I was thinking
That time I wanted to stay
But left anyway.

The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.

your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about
you;

i'll cry a little more,
hurt a little stronger
love a little softer
because you no longer
make me feel sober

i'm drunk on the
memory of you

She said "I'm falling in love."

I said "I'm falling apart."

I wish
her scars were on my heart
and not on her arms.

They said,
"The most beautiful art is
looking into someone's eyes
when they talk about the
things they love."
And I said,
"Or looking at someone you love.
Or maybe, just maybe,
by looking at the mirror
is the most beautiful art
anyone should appreciate."

When I look at you,
I don’t see darkness
I don’t see rain
I don’t see pain

When I speak to you,
I don’t feel sadness
I don’t feel neglect
You always show respect

When I think of you,
It gives me strength
Because you’re so bright
My brightest light

When I dream of you,
I find myself in your arms
Right where I belong
Right where I feel strong

When I fell in love with you,
I knew it was true
Because you drowned my sorrows
And now I can see tomorrow

Dear death,

I have met life,
He wants me to fight,
But I'm so weak-
So can we meet?

"do you like being high or do you just feel forced by the universe?" I ask my cat

upon reflection, I ask myself the same

keep your eyes closed love.

           e     t      
       m           i
    o                 m
s                        e  
                            s     all you have to
                                                                ­
                                                                ­ l                  is to what the sound
                                                           ­      i            n
                                                  ­                s           e
                                                               ­          t

                                                              ­                               v
                                                               ­                         a        e
                             ­                                          of the  w               s
                                                               ­                                       
                         ­                                                                 ­            tells  you
                                                                ­                                        to do.

the night my life changed
i was wearing
a white dress
with blue and red
flowers

and you were wearing
well, actually
it doesn't
matter

the night my life changed
it was dark
and you were drunk
and somehow
it was my fault

Break my bones;
cut my throat.
Pull me open,
learn the ropes.

Breath me in;
taste the fear.
Shank my skin;
stand and cheer.

Kick my head;
let me bleed.
Unbolt my veins;
enjoy the read.

Gouge my eyes;
punch my face.
Wrap me up
in your embrace.