Don't ever fall in love with a poet
because they will indeed admire and watch your every move
they will write about how the pen marks on the side of your palm when you write
don't ever because they will trace
every single freckle you have on your face and
write about the color of each and every one of them and
describe how they smile so brightly under the sunlight
they will want you to want to know every little thing about them
even if it's just what hand they write with and want you
to be wondering why they write with that specific hand when in
reality it doesn't even matter

the poet will watch the way you dig
your eyes onto that book and your small quick remarks onto the 26 letters all crumpled together and will know that everyday at 5:28 p.m. you smile

they will look deeply into your eyes
to see if they can at least take a little
peak of your soul and they will write
about you like if you were the only
thing they see good in this world

they will want to know what you think
about when you look at them and
see if you also count each and
every freckle and hope and write  
that you do but they will
love you endlessly and they will
show you that they love you and only you

but don't date a poet if you aren't
capable to watch them and
admire their imperfections
when they sleep late at night
beside you.

j.f

Can I call you my friend?
We danced together, once,
You and I
We were barefoot,
Ankle deep in thunderclouds
You and I waltzed between mountaintops
As if the snow and sun were silent music
1,2,3,1,2,3

We were raindrops, once
You and I
Fell to earth from the very clouds that we called home
From the silent sun who gave us light and tanned our skin
You and I fell upon the ground together,
No matter, my friend,
It was lonely in the sky

My mind is racing
But I cant beat my thoughts.
My heart is hammering
But the feeling is numbing.

My soul and my mind are at war
And I can't choose a side
So I'll just stay here on the sidelines

And watch the world unravel.

We're not going to get over this
No common sense anywhere in sight
Strangers merely passing in the night
To what end are we arriving at?
Love is breaking and hearts are aching.

You ask and take and never give back
Know that you are testing my limits
The final straw snaps within my fist
Rules don't matter to you anymore,
And I'm about to blow the whistle
So do I keep trying to love you?
Do I labor on and work things out?
I stand upon undecisive ground.

A needle's fall is heard around you
Full blown looks of ice upon your face...
Commitment's not a part of your world.
What is it you really want from me?
I'm having a hard time loving you
Thinking of the tension on the line
Of fear and doubt, whenever it snaps.

You don't understand how I see you
Wouldn't you be different if you could?
Get a clue, you aren't acting yourself.
This wonderful heart that I once met
From the dove to the hungry raven
Any hope I had is almost lost
Other times I know we can make it
Guy and girl, we can come together

I want you to see my heart tearing
Just glance inside my eyes and witness
Wanna know how my heart still lives?
Tell me, would you glance in the mirror?
You who became something so obtuse?
How can you toss away my feelings?
I'm breaking down, do you not see me?
Feeling is lost and the mind is numb

Gotta show you where we are in time
Make you see the darkness between us
You are blind, but let me help you see
Understand my despairing last cry

Never more will you play with my time,
Gonna set you straight, put you in line.
Give me your true, everloving heart
You will really truly be surprised
Up above, read the first word on every line.

It’s

Not a token drawn around the neck, but

A

Jewel upon the finger that will forever dream

Sad

Memorys branded into the very tissues; a

Thing

Made to torment the mind until the day comes

When

Our earthly mother calls us.

The

Fruits of our nature dry a bond that's

Only

Broken by the lord himself. My cries, the

Sounds

of Hades in the pounding of my death

Are

scarabs that peel the skin away in

Footsteps

Treading across my soul, leaving scars

Of

Which I may never again love.

The

Thorns grow in craters of damages

One

Has, with no way back; leave

You

Without the means to help and cannot

Love

without something in return.

Walking

out will not chase me

away

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

--Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied.  It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.