The ladder is so simple.
It is used
to climb
to see the heavens.

The ladder is so simple.
With a grasp of its outer shell
Man
can
slip
                       away
without
a
sound.

The ladder is so simple.
But it requires such effort to move upwards
Each rung requires a jump from the previous.
A leap of faith-
Ending in the starting place with no new vertical accomplishments
OR
Continuing with a crash on the next, elevated rung,
Repeating the process once again.

                Then there’s the other option.
                To grasp the sides of the ladder when man has finished climbing,
                Slinking, slithering down the smooth sides of the legs
                Where you smack the bottom.

The ladder is so simple.
It’s easy for man to climb.
Each rung is a new goal to reach.
There’s a constant need to land on top
like a nobleman chasing the crown.

               The hard part is saying goodbye to the heights achieved.
               “Are the rungs pointless if man should pass them all coming back                        down?”
“Are the leaps of faith worth the energy in the end?”
But the hardest question of all-

*“When does man know to sink?”

Dawn hits.
The smoky mists of the night fade away.
All that was once existent is blurred into nothingness.
A new beginning starts.

The old nightlife is somehow forgotten.
Nothing from the past can penetrate the force of the future.
It must all remain where it belongs...
Forgotten.

But how can something so important be lost?
It is believed that dawn shall fade the night away.
Day will take over and the darkness shall subside.
But the night is never truly forgotten.

Without night, there shall be no day.
Without night, there shall be no dawn.

The memories of night can never fade.
For the light of day is met with dusk,
And dusk shall once again bring the images of night in all its beauty.

Dawn may begin, but it is not a means to an end.
Dusk shall return night to the world,
Old memories once again becoming a reality.

The dew that forms on spring grass.
The sun rays that shine through summer windows.
The crisp leaves that blow through autumn winds.
The snow flurries that illuminate the wintery chills.

These are the most common poetic topics...
But why?

The face of poetry is abstract and unseen.
Its mask shifts and changes into ideas of understanding,
Depending on the listener...

The beauty of nature has effortless expression
It practically writes for itself.

But the fire of Love is another matter.
"Bye, love you!" "I love that!" "C'mon love."
The name appears more often than necessary,
But is it truly understood, like nature?

It seems my generation has forgotten Love's definition.
"Love: an intense feeling of deep affection."

I don't love my cereal, I love my mom's caring personality.
I don't love my car, I love my dad's willingness to trust.
I don't love my tickets to Disney, I love my younger brother's sense of fun.
I don't love my toothbrush, I love my eldest brother's teaching disposition.

Love is a part of nature, it's true,
But it is not meant to be taken as lightly.

Nature is easily seen through our widening pupils,
Every move it makes is impossible to go unnoticed.
Love's invisibility is easy to let slip by,
You have to look closely to find it.

True Love is never found in objects.
True Love is found in families of all different seasons.

My poems are the life of me
They are who I choose to be
and if you read them you will find
the keyhole view into my mind

You will be lost in rhymes
hearing the ticking and chimes
of my life translated into word
with nothing obscure or blurred

You will see my imagination
overworked with frustration
It's an art of the mind
Twisting and unraveling refined

If you read enough of them
You will find the gem
That will tie them all you see
At that moment, you will know I better than me.