I go through the day,
Putting forth a happy display,
Living out my life
Like it were just another picture
To be made and played
By fervent, cheering crowds:
Only it’s my own reality
That I am not allowed

All poetry,
Well it took hold of me
I mean all this poetry
It really grips the soul of me
To read all of this poetry
Well it would take me centuries
Sitting silent on endless balconies
Questioning the whats and whos and hows of me
Lying still on sturdy bows of trees
Reading through perfectly posed symphonies
Twenty six letters making all this poetry
Oh how they take ahold of me
And all of you, authors of this poetry
So distant and naive
Unknowingly knowing me
Unknowingly holding me

He will love you when
you're a tree in the winter
    bones without flesh
when you're not yet a butterfly
when you're slowly learning to smile

She will love you still when
  you're summer without the rain
    a boat without the sail
when you're a train-track without the train
Incomplete but love still remains

If you could see me now
You'd recognize me
In a heartbeat

You'd recognize this act
As a façade
A way of hiding the scar
That never truly healed

Despite the years
And all the changes
The events that
Changed our lives
For better or worse

All peel back
Bit by bit
Turning me into that
Naive innocent kid
Once more

All those defences
I've put up
All come crumbling down
Bit by bit
Piece by piece

In front of you
They amount to nothing
No ungodly force
Capable of stopping you

Stopping what you represent
That image forever ingrained
In my heart and mind

The culmination of love
Pain, joy, commitment
And all those emotions
That make the foundation
Of a relationship

One we never had
One we never will
Yet the standard I use
When it comes to others

You
Someone I never had
Have set the bar
For all that I shall have
In the future

So far not one
Has met that standard

Maybe it's just me
Or the standard you set
Is much too high

All I know
Is that it's lonely
Up here

Drinking alone
In this bar
So high off the ground

Won't you join me
One last time?

Bus of beauty and delight
Scenic everyone knows because the headlights shine bright
Citizens wave as the bus passes by
The driver carefully flashes his lights in Hello
Scenic connects people with scenery
America with Pride
Scenic even passes a Native American Indian Tribe
Scenic that can be sonic
It’s the comfort in the passengers ride
It comes with reclining seats having the scenic stride
A very restful sleep
The passengers in thought with keep
No time to start counting sheep
Scenic knows the highway routes best
Yet only scenic can truly confess
Scenic is more than beauty on the road
Attention motorist in behold
Scenic is not like any average motor coach
But this is something engineering can boost
More than a coach traveling from coast to coast
Scenic with headlights being its surprise
It’s beyond the highway in making all traveling motorist wise
So when scenic flashes lights at night in hello, honk your horn in approval
Scenic with your fine design, I wish you could be all mine.

As long as his
Rubber hands
Slip away
From my wooden chest,
I gladly fake that
Inner sorrow.

ask the light, and she will speak-
the secret smile she traces as she kisses
my eyes for the beautiful day that is born

as it was her gift yesterday,
on this day when i breathe with love
for you and only you, know this:
you do not owe me touch or hearing
even grateful words need not disturb
the silence because someone has to be
the first to fall, even without knowing
how or when: for a lifetime or all alone.

let me savour the stars and her kisses-
full, like the moonlight with her embrace
where my arms stretch out, as if waiting
for you, even when you are not coming,

because the same light
who promises i can greet you
could only remain silent and dark
as she denies my last desire
to say thank you, and goodbye.