hello there
it's been a while
i haven't spoken to you in a while
and i think it's fair to say i've changed
changing is hard
and not fun at all
but this is proof
that maybe one day
i can come back
and say hello again
to me from then
from me now

i just wanted you to know
that I've been reading your poems
your stories
your heart
and I too
bleed for these words
like you
and I hope
you read mine too
when your heart
seek for words

on a Friday night
no matter where you started out
you always ended up
for last call and

the unexpected was expected

you might find a line
on the women's room sink,
the bartender dancing on the bar
tequila in mouth
a lit match
then spitting flame

maybe
some guy pulls a knife
so the other guy shows a gun

satori's abound

beach day in January
300 pounds of sand
and a sand castle contest

crazy George swings
from the wooden wagon wheel
light fixture
and the lights flicker off and on

and the desperate and the dying
lost in want

appear and disappear
pop in and out of existence

dead
then alive
dead
then alive...

our cards are spread
and the joker card smiles

no search for meaning here,
the ****** return the dealt card's smile

we are the wolves and the lambs
no saints here

and no matter how you acted or what
you did or owned
who you hated or loved
no one was ever was bored

so alive for the fleeting moments
of Last Call

a random freedom of sorts
seen in a wink of an eye, heard in a sigh
the kind of freedom
you only experience
once in a lifetime

folie a' plusieurs.

I sit in my car waiting
For the money from that
Quick cash job
I just did
To hit my account,

So I can go inside
And get myself
Something to drink,

Fire trucks fill the
Roads under the
Glare of an afternoon
Moon,

God, what a weird
Position I’ve
put myself in.

It felt like my time was coming,
I’m not afraid of what’s to come,

I’ll keep writing odes to love,
And life in sorrow,

I’m fading inward, starting from my fingertips,
So the moon has invited herself

To stay a little longer,
She weeps rain as tomorrow

Arrives with a picnic basket,
Heavy with what once was,

The morning sun sits in a corner,
Just ready to shine once more,

And what a beautiful morning
I have bought with breaths and sighs,

60 degrees haven’t felt this good,
It surfs upon the wind,

Carrying a boombox that
Plays melancholy,

It reaches my ears to remind
Me of the pain,

But thank god for beautiful
Mornings, and the clicking of time.

And pocket change.

She has a swing
To her hips,
But she stands
Proud with
Her shoulders
High, full of
Pride and knots
That I didn’t put
The time to
Take away,

A risk taker,
She jumps
Out of airplanes
And helicopters
Now, she loved
The kind of love
That stays with
You, because
You have never
Been loved like
This before,

And she stayed,
The morning
After.