When I was a boy on the farm in
Missouri slaying dragons and
making swords out of sticks,
my Dad got me a coonhound pup.
He named him Festus.
Dad was a real Gunsmoke fan.
Festus grew, as I did, and we
traveled every inch of
that 120 acres.
There were two streams that
ran through our land,
and a pond south of the house.
We had 60 head of cattle and
several calves.  Festus would
help me chase them.
When I went to bed for
the night, I heard crickets and cicadas,
and always Festus, way off in
the distance howling and barking.
He didn't mind touring the
farm with me, but he
did his best work on his own,
late at night.
Now that I'm an adult, and
Festus is long gone,
I wonder if anybody can
hear me howl in the
darkness.

you see something wise
copy and paste
what a surprise
you may have good taste
copyright, plagiarize
not your own words
look how you summarize
trying to be heard
if you want to write poetry
then by god do so
but don't steal from others
its ink that you owe

my heart was a pocket watch
you made me tick

when you threw me away
now the buttons don't click

you carried me everywhere
I served best as I could

holding on to your side
my shine always stood

one trip down the *****
and down the clock went

hit the floor hard
my gears being spent

my hands froze at midnight
still stuck on a dream

my watchman was never
the man that he seemed

I breathe in this uncomfortable terror
of waking up every morning,
and giving up on changing my world.

I breathe out this comfortable discomfort,
that is me knowing I can do better,
yet I feel as if I have no control whatsoever.

I remember, sometime
in my early twenties,
realizing that I had
never experienced
the feeling of
missing somebody.
And I think
it's because
in order to miss someone
you have to first
let them exist.

And no one did.

And I don't know how
or when
it started to happen
but slowly, unnoticeably,
faces that were
once distant and blurry
became increasingly clear
moving nearer, nearer,
until close enough to
reach out and touch.
Hear the air softly exhaled
from their lungs.
Close enough to be hurt
and to love. And now
I feel it come in waves
a dull, subtle ache in my chest
and I think
it's because
I miss the nearness of
my friends.