If this, that I am feeling
Is but a fraction
Of the weight
Of the world
Then, no wonder
Atlas shrugged
Apr 27, 2018
Apr 27, 2018 at 6:12 PM UTC
We are the kids
Who want to feel alive
We want to feel liberated and beautiful and young.
We are the sad youth.
Of cutting
And anti-depressants
Praying for some one to save us
From ourselves,
When our minds are dark
And we are alone.
We are the wild youth.
Of late nights
And city lights
With our lungs filled with smoke
And adrenaline pumping through our veins.
We are the lonely youth.
Where no one knows our thoughts
And no one understands
But God, how we wish they would.
We are the hipster indie youth.
We don't do it for the aesthetic
Because this is who we are
We live our lives in black white
And sometimes, someone beautiful
Adds in the most vibrant color.
We are the wandering youth.
Searching, exploring, running, grasping
At whatever we can
That make us see
There is hope
And wonder
And brilliance in the world.
We are the youth of today
We are different
But we are human.
We are the youth.
And even if our youth is fading,
The memories we made aren't.
Sep 17, 2017
Sep 17, 2017 at 5:06 PM UTC
~
who knows the definition of a poet?
~
*for my friend, S.Y,
who I will embrace with both hands,
both eyes, when he hands me a signed copy of a book
that answers the question*
weighty subjects deserve your best work,
expressions of affection and introspection,
need careful reflection, a proper set up for the
tumult inevitable when delving in the unopened recesses
where the answers kept
so, of course, the writing commences well after 1:00am,
when the darkness of night clarifies the process,
for I work by day but live by night,
when summoning up my one tool no one can take away,
the joy, the relief, the spectacular exultation of
rearranging the aleph bet in new ways,
when the quietude of reflection transports me
across the continents in visions of what will be
I don't know if I know the answer, perhaps, any answers,
but when this man demands
the ebb tides of soul to depart,
to make him stand alone on the shore of endings,
forcing him to acknowledge his reckonings,
lonely, only humanity and frailties
I hear a voice gruff growling and me laughing-
"cut to the chase, make your point, get out of people’s way"
so in your honor, this simp fool who asks questions
no human has any business, the answers knowing,
will one last stanza grant and give and
yours to keep,
and commence countdown waiting for that day of welcoming
*from the underground comes a chorus of voices,
in one voice but many languages, chanting:*
***all humans are poets
who acknowledge and freely confess that the
blood and stuff, the kisses and the touches of family and friends,
parent and child,
are the ***** and the egg,
the beginning and the circulation of the never ending,
the open entrance that penetrates the berm surrounding real life,
all these are the root and the stem and the blossoming,
of poetry writ large, for they who have these in their possess,
are surely by definition certainly
humans, poets***
~
5/14/17 2:05am
Aug 19, 2017
Aug 19, 2017 at 1:46 PM UTC
paper and ink
that's all it takes
for someone
to be immortalized
Aug 14, 2017
Aug 14, 2017 at 6:20 AM UTC
I am not fragile
I am not a porcelain doll
Or a baby bird
I am not something to be wrapped in cotton wool
He broke me. I built myself up
They tried. I endured. Only cracking
She tried. She failed.
By the time you met me
I am more glue and duct tape
Whisky and ink
And grim resolve
Than I am person.
I am not fragile.
I have survived.
I will continue to do so.
No.
I am not fragile.
Aug 3, 2017
Aug 3, 2017 at 5:09 PM UTC
I love you
Happy words
Unless, they preced
The dreaded, but
Or feared, however
Both can shatter a heart
And I'm sorry.
Because
I love you, but
There it is
The rest of what I have to say
Is white noise
As your mind processes
That word
But
Still, I will continue
I love you, but I cannot
I cannot do this on my own
I cannot keep hoping for a word from you
Sit here wondering
Pondering
I am slowly accepting
You're here but not
So maybe
When you come back
If you do
I'll be here, but gone, too
Moving, or moved on
From you
Aug 2, 2017
Aug 2, 2017 at 8:08 AM UTC
It's in cloudy lemonade
In a cheap candy cane
In the kiss of a lover
Or an early morning smile
In a goodbye kiss
It's in the pouring rain
And pounding hearts
Gasping , grabbing greedy breaths
In long drives
Songs sung
Out of time to the radio
In time with each other
In simple things
Pizza and long talks
A bottle of some thing cheap
Kisses that taste wine-sweet
And the places you meet
Life, itself
Made sweet
Aug 2, 2017
Aug 2, 2017 at 7:43 AM UTC
You're just like
My cigarette
Temporary
To help forget
That I am
A walking debt
A life that rightly
Belongs to death
And it may be
The reason why
I'm taking the fast route back
The smoke in my lungs
You on my mind
Both to shorten my stolen life
And "render unto caesar that which is caesar's"
Jul 30, 2017
Jul 30, 2017 at 10:06 AM UTC
This is for the three A.M writers,
The four A.M coffee drinkers,
because sleep isn’t useful at this point.
This is for the daughter that lost her mother
at age twelve and never stopped smiling.
This is for the boy that knows that the
closet will only be kind to him
for a little while longer
but can’t bring himself to leave quite yet,
I see you.
I see the smile fade for just a second,
the small tear run down your cheek.
I see how quickly you wipe it away,
scanning the room to make sure no one saw,
but I did.
This is for the social smokers,
and the casual drinkers and
the avid vapors that think that cotton candy
flavored juices won’t give you cancer…
I see you.
I see you post drag, look at the cigarette
like it's the first time one has ever been in your hand.
I see the moment you realize you want
your lungs to give out. I see you raise it back to your lips.
I see you sip from a coffee cup at a football game,
but oh don’t you wish it was coffee,
but instead coffee brandy burns your throat
as you try to forget all the bad things he did to you.
I see you.
I see you wince at the final sip, not only because
you took too much to swallow, but because
the pain made you realize what you have
let him turn you into.
This is for the class clowns.
The boy that tries so hard to make other
people laugh because he
can’t remember the last time
he actually smiled, and if he
can make other people happy for just a second,
one day maybe he’ll be happy too.
I see you.
I see you after landing the punchline,
analyzing the classroom,
and when the roar of laughter fades
so doe’s smile that never quite reached
your eyes.
This is for the the invisible.
The “unmemorable” face in the crowd.
The people in public with their face in a book,
I see you.
I see you watch quietly in the background.
Listening to everything around you,
never brave enough to speak up.
I see you.
This is for all of the people that at one point
in their life thought no one was watching.
That no one ever cared enough to see you.
I see you.
Jul 29, 2017
Jul 29, 2017 at 12:59 PM UTC
You're like smoke.
You take my breath away
You numb the ache
But i can't hold you
I don't want to let you go
But I'm not holding on
If you'd rather be gone
Like smoke on a midnight breeze
Darling, won't you stay?
Jul 29, 2017
Jul 29, 2017 at 6:14 AM UTC