Everything, and everyone has a price; however, most bills are overdue. I have put myself in every situation necessary to gain opportunities. To those opportunities, I throw in a bid. To those bids, I place an unmeasured but respectable effort. This bill is still due. The ladder will be climbed. The plateau will be reached: Gaining and assigning costs. Sadly, where I cannot help but stumble, and never collect, I tread. As I walk, the soppy mud pulls down at my heals. There is no exit aside from the direction I came.

This is Pursuit.

I can name heroes, such as Alvin C York, who gave up the pen and took up a rifle, leading 100’s of men through respect and fear. I read that he was a teacher that volunteered for the first World War and captured over 130 men single handed. I can work canned equations that will tell me the declining chances as the hours near closing in my office that my phone will ring. I can cite tax regulation in context to a very defined, specialized and rarely referenced subject matter. I can draw on these lessons the way a craftsman draws his tool belt; I cannot explain hours spent or define with any reason one subject matter.

This is Woman.

Far more time is wasted than spent, yet somewhere, somehow, collected. I’ve spent on the perfect screens to distract myself from this fact alone. Most men do not chase a dream they have not experienced; ignorance is bliss. Within men that try, dressing as casual as one can afford and resting their beaten hands on electronic controllers, one may find a survivor. This man will climb blindly, because he has only ever know spending. He will spend blood, sweat, tears and time to never be vulnerable. The act of collecting becomes nothing more than the means to spending, and he will never let be.

This is Myself.

I have turned off the news. I have separated ways with those that need to surpass trivial, arbitrary hurdles. I will spend down on screens no longer. I have stopped broadcasting the news. I can feel myself exiting society. Like many men before me, I have begun to pack my bags for checkout. There is no blame. There is no hate. There is no expectation. Dreams. Goals. Responsibilities. A man cannot live on food and shelter alone. He cannot pick up discarded pieces of society that are not worth their weight. This man cannot die for anyone that would not live for him.

This is My Decree.

Signed,

Without Notoriety

I didn't come here for the overpriced beer, that's not gonna cure what ales me.

What ales me is here, hidden beneath the cure.

Inaccessible, leaving hope that makes it only more painful.

They don't know what to make of me, for I am not defined.

But it's their indifference that chisels away at parts of me until these parts are no longer mine.

I am not crazy, repeating these patterns.
Dropping placebos and falling victim to patterns.

The deafening music, sweating skin and the passion.
I watch the others take it in, it's my only distraction.

And she'll turn to me at the most awkward time, maybe buy me a drink or feed me a line.

And she knows she's just fishing to see if she's still got it. And when I force a half smile she knows for a second I bought it.

If I turn her away then I'm the **** and mistaken, I'm left with only myself to blame.

If I tell her we've never met that it's her that's mistaken, she'll have her confidence restored and her senses awaken.

She'll move on for the night and look to upgrade. I'll sit and try to explain away the trap that she laid.

It gets late enough that I can pretend that I tried, and I make as if I have a reservation with a cabbie outside.

We're all born alone. Everyone dies. But for a few seconds, a few get to lie.

You were always
three steps ahead
I trace my steps back
To where it all began
And I'd have given anything to call you
Friend.

It's 70 in November
Why won't the sun give way?
I'm seeking a reason
To be locked away again
Though tunnel vision held my gaze
Winter must arrive
An end to wondering if
I'll still grow old, and still.

Intoxicated in disappointment
I call a beggar for what he isn't
I've caught him at his darkest hour
Measuring his life against my best intent

You were always four steps ahead
I trace my steps
Back to where it all began
I'd stole a moment if time stood still
And give my last breath to call you friend.

I count another day gone
Another notch, another aim
I down another shot
Lest my throat go dry
And sight grow straight

I have to thank you for the closure
That smile that told me
I never really left.
Finding time to watch you sleep;
Holding tightly the to the magic
I must say goodbye as you sleep.

Dare I say I could not trade
The image of my true love then
Fore the new woman before me isn't.

Though I once was strong enough
To walk toe to toe with warriors
Masked only by our sins
I can only think of you and smile
To find that smirk once more
And remember we were more once

I'll dream a day that I can call you friend
From once upon a time;
Where this all began.

I don't cry - but sometimes
When there are no more battles to be won
Tears fill my eyes.

I don't live outside - but sometimes
I step out from the shade in the sun
And let the light in.

I don't beg - but tomorrow
When the world skips and I lose my place
You'll find me pleading

I don't pray - but today
When I open my eyes and can see your face
I'll count my blessings.
Count my words as though they will soon lose
meaning.

Silence is golden; leaving my words weightless.
If the truth set us free, I would have sacrificed
Less.

Shed the debt, you free the monster.
Chin up, it's good for your posture.

I don't age - but sometimes,
I look in the mirror at the scars that I fear.
My expression fades as my complexion withers.


Smile... Take a picture.

It's ok that she didn't show because you see...
Guys like me, we don't belong in relationships. Our love is fixated.
We love the adrenaline rush and beating heart from approaching a beautiful stranger, like a social skydive when your destination is beyond the clouds and the mystery...

of never knowing where you'll wake up next. Because you haven't seen every shade of green eyes, until you've seen them against the many magnificent backgrounds of the world and we love the sinful opportunities....

that come from being at the right place... at the right time... with the wrong person.

Over my shoulder when all the
lights faded
The looming end has all but
been written
From over my shoulder I pray I've
gone mad, Tho'
fate would submit me
To a glimpse of her shadow.

Not a day passes
She won't show me
her face
A scar in the minds eye
A memory misplaced.
I plead to her
"Let go!"
I yearn to be freed
I spot once more
her shadow
Where my own once casts from
my feet.

I don't believe in
true love
Tho' I'm open to opinion
I wagered once with
your god
Beseeching him to listen
Let there be no
other lover
To woo me from the path
If destiny be fabricated
Let love sway
not last.

She couldn't help but think
Had we crossed five years later
We could of saved ourselves
from falling victim to
our fears.
And each time one door closes
And as I learn to
be alone
Her voice echoes not in
my head
but from out the shadows
"It is what it is,
All people lie.
Know they look up to you,
And hold your head high."

I'm terrified my
courage stripped
She does not appear for resolution
I will not sleep, for fear to wake
To pay for my decisions.
She stole my trust, and I
lashed out
Taking from her youth and innocence
For this she'll take away my normal
And watch me bathe in darkness.

She can't know
About you
She can't know you're real
I beg you not to fall for me
Please don't disappear.

Where has the wind gone?
To find new sails,
Stitching their own of parchment.

Where has the wind gone?
In every man burns warm a fire
Hearths that only need be stoked.

Setting off into the blue.
Currents warmed by sunlight,  
In the night grow cold.

Settle and you may find warmth,
From each dying ember,
Convinced the sun will never set.

I can only speak of sparks
Where once the flames burned brightest.

That when the wind did not shift,  wisened.
And set fire to the parchment.

With open eyes, friends couldn't see
Beyond their tainted lungs and
                                    Blistered feet.
Their status shown upon the streets
No dreams to free ourselves of need.

A thicket afront an institution
Though it's meant to hide, I've grown.
My only fear and retribution
                                     To abandon ship
                                     To free my grip
And embrace anew, the new unknown.

Mediocrity is blending
Most of my words are garbage.
Consistantly being tested,
A mind silent, but never resting.

    But a note.
    But a pen.
    But a mark.
The story begins where it would arc.
Lost before the plot could thicken
The seams seem to tear the pages apart.

Kept to myself, ill hold my own
Fore my words are sharp,
                             And thoughts intruding.
Drifting further into the unknown
My only fear and retribution.

I found your perfume today.
An afterthought tucked away behind aftershave.

I sprayed it out of curiosity
Can you believe  I had almost forgotten?

The smell hit me like a runaway knife.
You are in front of me, arms wrapped tight

You wore that yellow shirt,
you always looked amazing in yellow
You always looked amazing.
And you kissed me.

I fell back; caught myself on the tub,
Sat there and caught a deep breath
The familiar smell had all but left.

I could not stand,
As strong as I am.
As strong as I'd become,
Run straight through by a glance.

I aimed to think of all I had done.
Of the women I've met: just one.
What I couldn't do with you,
There was none.

Nothing remains as I pack.
Your perfume hits the trash.
One man too wrapped up to come undone.

I'm reminded of a scribble on scrap paper
Cardboard. Brick wall.
as if from an 'Unknown' creator.
Smeared by the rain.
No room for grammar.

A faded stain.
Written in the moment.
Full of content; lacking in substance,
Read forever out of context.



These words reflect the reader.
Written not for the receiver.
Nothing more now that a splash
of inspiration.
No less a tool in it's creation
than the recorder or the pen.

Don't focus on the subject,
The message will be wrong.
Compare a lady with any woman
Who has ever come and gone.

I have a place I go to dream
I have my friends to check me
I have countless secrets to keep
They crowd the space around me

I have the taste for wanting
Engraved memories hard earned
Chapters of feats to fill the pages
And lessons left to learn

My path is lit, my hands are washed
Tho stained from tears you shed
Know you have been freed
                 from guilt and wrong.
If "no" is he worst I've said.

If I'm to gain but not destroy
Luxuries and ties I'll have to lose
Dreams of paradise once more foiled
But, I can say I'd found you.

You have your ties binding whims
A strength you must not prove
You reflect out beauty from within
Your nature betrays your youth

When thoughts are clear from shrouding
Words are meant to follow suit
If you write then I will answer
As if time evades your truths

I may not exist to dawn that crown
To boast and brag on my own muse
My name may escape you in days to come
But, by God,
          I can say I'd found you.

I smile when I hear the words "I give up."

Suffering misunderstood and underrated;
A primary reactant for change.

But people fear it, abandoning friends,
Nestled comfortably within delusions.

To bolster and promote charity without sacrifice.

To applaud goals without acknowledging the journey.

To treat symptoms without seeking the disease.

I smile when I hear the words "I give up."

You're awake, my friend.

Good morning.

I awaken and she's bleeding.
43...42.. she punches her ticket.
41...40 Dont curse me death!
                 Convince me I'm sleeping.

My hand touches her back,
She bolts for the door.
My fists clench perfume
Expression and pride, collidewiththe
                                           floor.

I emerge from my home,
Dislodged like a stranger.
Confused and displaced; A break!
Her silhouette betrays her.

She loves unicorns,
but what is this before me!
This creature stands over
On all fours, the beast feeds...

Heaven! Heaven if you're at my door
I will answer!  ....
She offers it her hand as red pours over.
All white stains dark; a puddle left over.

I pick up a spear and take charge!
The only white I meet,
         within her approaching eyes.

She wraps her arms around
Pleading for its well being.
The beast retreats,
I turn to the bleeding...

Why protect it?
What's left of this?
A boy and his stick...
I awaken again.

Nothings changed from this bed.
The morning's her first daily visit.
An ember surrounds her in smoke.
I punch the alarm,
                    She punches her ticket.

39....38....

It's just a first; it's just a second.
Take one more minute; light one more habit

Can you ever really make up sleep that you've lost,
Can your mind settle when your health is the cost?

When she tells you she cares and a moment you pause,
but her actions are damning; they paint a lost cause.

A wiseman once said for the highest of highs
Are the lowest of lows when the fireworks die.

Must we be young and stupid, if to ever be wise,
Or know the truth in her words, if we've never heard lies?

Will men always pay for the damages brought,
by boys making choices without second thoughts?

Will she always abandon in search of adventure,
Morales, and manners; replace values with anger?

Am I not a man if I act out of fear,
but to feel naive when I look in the mirror?

There isn't a path the truth will not alter,
Not a shadow is found in the final hours.

As the fireworks end, the colors will taper,
Answers lie in the ashes and die with the cinders.

...if a picture's worth's a thousand
In your gaze lies my memoire
I say a person's eyes must change
Fore within your stare I'm marked....

I write. I drink and I write. I fill bins. Many bins.
I look at your picture. I study your eyes... I start again.

I set the table. I dimmed the lights. I'd like to say I won.
I will not say I knew you. I've no idea who you've become.

My eyes never shifted from the table. We may not have stayed the course,
Had I noticed your eyes so full of tears, instead weighing what we'd served.

...they capture pictures come to life.
They capture scenes in their reflection
When you catch me eye to eye
You'll learn me from the silence...

Am I made to play the part, A vagrant full of sin...
The proof is in perspective. You've seen who I have been.

Each time I leave behind a piece. A picture will not do.
Words will not to fill my chalice. My inspiration left with you.

...the black lines divide the darkest colors
Must be the labyrinth I'm lost in.
Fore when you grow bored, not for my words
I would surely be forgotten....

I drink
I think
I wish to blind these travesties.
Talents wasted: burning time,
      Saluting, Sea to shining sea.

I found, in her
A love I grasped
The anchor once was me.

We sank
    One soul
    One life
    One poison
In bottled spirits, we were free.

Take a message from a bottle
Thoughts sinking in intentions.
If but a piece of art you seek,
Drinks surely drown my inhibition.

I never took her for a fool
Her strength was not of question.
Glancing back at lessons wasted,
I wonder who had taught the lessons.

Her path was forged in every step
Her prints I dared to follow.
A dreamer to find a better way,
Looking for HER to draw tomorrow.

From her stool she called me pretty,
Pride never stole the moment.
We'd forgotten all that mattered.
I told her she was handsome.

Faith is not of subject bound,
But of purpose not yet rattled.
Realism steals the crown,
Of any dream, well traveled.

Beneath a Weeping Willow
Such Vines do not Twist,
Peer Out from the Shade!
Be Freed by It's Allure
Dampening the Earth It's cast Upon

There, In Broad Day
Dancing in the Streets
Cheering for Silence
All Books and Statues
and Sons, Fair Game

Fear Them you Cannot
The Eyes Do Not Spare
Distant Figures bob,
and Sway
and Twist to knots

Could be One's Eyes
Be It the Flowing Vines
Sure of Myself, or
More-so of the Willow's
Trickling Streams,
Hung with Care
Still, yet Overflowing

No, Eyes do not Betray!
The Mind cannot Return
and still Dance
For Too the heart,
Here, Trapping Water's reign
Set to Betray It's prison


Tomorrow, The Cleanup Comes
Brothers, We'll Hear Our names
And Rise from the Mud
By Design or by decision

Echoes, Sounds in Every Room
Shall Haunt us with The Present
Declaring All the While, "Better had they never learned,
Time is a Gift,      Until it Isn't"

What do I want?
Spare my soul to adventure
An enlightened child,
Playing dress up as mentor

Denying my hand
Casts doubts on my words
No wager to fold
Fated souls might endure

She will be beautiful.

I've put myself upon the sand                            
Comparing myself, a shipwrecked man                
A speck of dirt rests on my hand                        
Everything we were, and all I am.                      

Like a night I could not number,                        
Like my plans lay sails ripped asunder                  
When sunset should pull me under.                      
Adrift, a bottle ends my slumber..                      

Loose driftwood to be thrown aside                
Adrift, bottled hope leaves me intertwined.                  
Masking a print with blue green eyes
Left of another, though much like mine.

There lies a plea written by hand
'Lost then found soul, her shipwrecked man.
Flames die slow for a second chance.
Everything we were, and all I am.'

Years have passed since my heart fluttered
Waiting for a love found from stranger.
Laying with snakes to feel her comfort
Adrift, thoughts delay my slumber

The heart wanes down it's sudden flight
Dreaming of what may come at dawn's first light
Of words or thoughts for her to write,
Meant for no other .... This one's mine.

Resting lost among miles of sand.
Everything you'd want, is all I am.

I've been homely.
I've been homesick.
Never quite homebound,
Many times homeless.

I've been behind the tie,
As well as the noose.
I've been contracted,
Up for bid and cut loose.

I've been one of the sheep.
I've been one of the soldiers.
I've been seen marching the
streets, for a new world order!

I've been sober drunk.
I've been drunk sober.
On trial to be hung,
Never quite hung over.

I've been stable.
I've been crazy.
Schizophrenic, bipolar.
Depressed, with a grandeur disorder.

I've been needy , too.
Threw it all on the table.
Once I was fulfilled,
I.e. "Emotionally unavailable".

I've been shot at, and
cut; even worse!
I've been interrupted and insulted with
                   words...

My deliverance is raw.
Hands calloused with greed.
I've grown exhausted.
For now, I'm just me.

It's true I've grown too lazy

To chase a dream
or wait to die
To chase the greatest of lies
or inheret a life of ease.

A choice that should not be
made in good company.

The trick is to pass
while you're still alive.
To survive,
knowing the smile will fade last.

A choice that should not be
made at another man's  feet.

Bury the shovel.
Lean the stiffened body to.
in an ever so relaxed posture.

Nothing left to market.
Prop a sign:
'Will work for purpose '

A choice made for an industry.

For mine,  I'm still waiting.
Though it's true, I have grown lazy.

She shopped by window fronts,
Praying desperate for perfection.
Became the prey! fell short of wants..
Her sins born of his decisions.

Sinister, his thoughts astray
Seeks repentance; she seeks intent
Mind wanders left from what was     right.
She'd forged forgivable admissions.

Silence.

Silence.             It's not your fault.

In silence we catch our breath.

In silence we find the music...

Silence!

In silence we forget.

How soon we toss aside our words and pass through volumes of lyrics, if only to be freed.

Where a bottle once half empty
Rested solely to drown the tainted past
              in filtered whiskey.
From the knots of his indiscretions,
She is bound to fill the space with memory.

They have lived some bad, to worse times,
Indiscretions twice worth mentioning.
She's earned the night from dying days,
Silence for the lucky two-
              Lost
                   In lust
                         And listening.

A funeral calls for no weather
To chase means without ends
Is to ****** a dreamer.

I must surely let this pride in me die!
Fore Even in the eye of the beholders
No one takes count in the storms
that we've weathered.

She said...

"I cannot be good for you...
Your future is bright!"
But, Trading ends for means
doesn't sound like a life.

A meaning...

I'll wake with the sun
Crush the silence with worn playlists
Grasp an old toothbrush
Crush the bristles with beer breath.

Unqualified for whims and throws!
I can give education more meaning
But to draw on such loans
Is to live shackeled in new chains.

To face my blood!
Is to call the past home
They say misery loves company
... I can find that alone.

Even writing has become
For all purposes a need
Tho' I long for a day
I create as I breathe.

I promise...

Love is guiltless
Just victims remain
Only in this rest
Can our egos be slain.

A funeral calls for no weather
Wether faces draw near
Contemplating
Proclaiming "He deserved better! ...

At the very least,

Didn't he deserved her here?

I thought I could save you
From playing the victim
Your smile never waned
I stood firmly convinced.

I had forgotten
You failed to mention
One last embrace;
For his sins I was sentenced.

A boy not a man.
A child not a token
A dreamer unspent.
A friend not chosen.

You played your part well,
And practice makes perfect.
Some see tragic ending,
We count a near miss.

No signs in the store fronts,
No daydream decisions
I'll go down a number and
You'll go down a lesson.

I've lived here before,
Far too close to lonely
Counting seconds to hours
Enslaving myself to money

My quick to draw goodbyes
Attested to my growth
Until another path is lit
The darkness calls me home.

Don't bother
Don't call me
You've conceived
Your memories
You're drawn out
You're wasted
You've laid down
Your roots here
No forward
No true test
No meaning
No witness
Sell living
To pay rent.
Just stagnate
Remain spent.

You're obviously upset
Your story will not fit
While I'm down you will kick
And hit air, you're all spent.

Justifying your own means
Always leads where one begins.
To meet expectation of attempts
And forever loosen ends.

For when free will can flourish
Converging where discussion ends.
When dreams are traded in for rest
A cursed name is made of 'Friend'.

You find that honesty alone
Is exclusive to eternal youth
Where time's not spent on others' words
But finding the Truth in You.

There is but one image of myself that I
          value.
Within a stain glass; frosted.
Not meant to be seen through,
    or reflected.
An outline; a shadow,
    An imprint of what was...
Aiming to fulfill what's become
           because,
Without an image I search harder

And rest assured not to find what is lost.

Cheers to idle fears and fruitless years

I stand upon my shadow

She traded lies for worthless guys

It goes where ever I go.


She'd give a penny for my two cents;

 my senses oddly smitten.

My shadow leaves no form to follow,

For the darkness leaves it hidden.


Tho' no paths lit, I will not sit.

This void is where I stand

From within our mess of shadows,

She offers me her hand.

Your mind.
Your still mind.

Producing words to fill the void,
Consumes my mind with static.

Your bonds,
Commited to your indecisions
Until they crash,
And I make a face that best
Portrays that I might too
Find that you yourself construed
An oddly placed pitfall
Just as unexpectedly tragic.

I can answer your questions
With sincere like gestures
To fulfill your gaps with validation.

Give your misconstrued attempts
An empathic meaning.
A destiny, a reason
To find false comfort
Within a failsafe explanation.
A modern day depiction
As Adam and eve,
Could only survive in
Modern day creation.

You can rest assured
That in this moment you are living;
Count on me to analyze
Finding holes in others' lies
As if clear vision stripped a man's rights,
And I myself have made a victim
Of a man wrapped, and strangled
In his own less estranged,
More confident decisions.

If a tree falls in the woods
And no one is around to hear this,
Are we not bound by logic sake
To eat the lies
If all our closest friends,
Those hurt most by the truth
Would abandon us
if only not to hear them.
        
I rest my ears and count my words.
If one day I am recited,
I can only hope the words recalled
Are by those the world
Could not so easily frighten.

I'm a writer of childish whims.
To think a man could see his sins,
These freedoms from a man-made prison
As more than feat of retribution.

The walls you place over
Your mind.

Your still mind.

Hey
Wrong number
                                        >   Maybe not.
Is there an in-between?

It's safer that we're strangers..
But can I tell you of my dream?

I glimpsed her amongst the stars
A light piercing through the seams.

Threw myself into the sky and missed..

My world goes silent.


Bleak as I'm floating..


Shrinking.
                           
                                            >   I'm busy

"We're the only loners here."
A surety, once he inquired.
"You're wrong, though they may not of come...
we are the survivors"

Wisdom within consistency
Word outside of scripture.
Leasing still though blasphemous
Count it. File. Date the picture.

The benefits of not believing
in more than human will
is strength in resolve
for lack of option
Pushing on: no cutting deals.
Imagined dates cut off.
A story to be sealed.

A place to rest, a bench downtown.
Hope discovered in a beggar.
As I give that which means little,
I wonder who has more business here.

As the smiles fade, the invites cease.
Glimpses pass pressed judgement.

The decision becomes clearer.
in this life I've sought a bang,
fore my pain is but a whisper.

Flower petals strewn about
Stones uniquely filed
You won't find life
Outside of death
Nor beauty within a smile.

Humor exists to break the ice
Trees stripped to match your likeness.
Light found only
In another's eyes
Rest only found in darkness

Perfection is born forging lies
Betrayal born from trusting
Survival is living in denial
Giving is more when you have nothing

Noone seeks a happy beginning
Beauty comes from pain
Eyes beg open to let the light in
Expression found in stains

Stories can't be told, unfinished
Those missed can't stay around
Do not build from your foundation
Lest you've been beaten down

Wisdom drawn in scars
Still poison be it glass or vial
You won't find life
Outside of death
Nor beauty within a smile.

I stand before you, stripped of pride.
My name is trash; ive lost my stride.
Adament for one more night.
More oer you'll see she's right.
One more mistake would leave me empty.
Nuances blur lines of bitter sweet.
Save one that calls me by my name.
Take heed, take stock but leave no shame.
Eagerly i plot to share my pain.
Run away before i can.


*Thanks everyone for your words of encouragement. it feels nice to air out my words where they can be appreciated.

I see the rusted windmill turning.
Nobody's happy, everyone's counting.

I grow tired.

I set into the creek my bare feet.
It's too cold, it's too wet; this isn't for me.

The broken boards of the porch where no one's standing,
The views forgotten from the withered bridge left standing.

I grow tired.

And the leaves of a tree where friends were made,
The longer I stare the colors will fade.

The stars are too far to  be conceived in the mind,
The plans made beneath them, never quite right.

Fore bearers debate over who is to blame,
The women forge no path and show no shame.

I grow tired.

Unkempt barbed wire represents a divide,
No reason to cross with plans brushed aside.

Outside there's knocking: to stifle and hide,
Or pull the curtains asunder and let in the light.

I harden my mind, trade myself for a cure,
An empty wish to trade my losses for hers.

The wind moves against me, I fall from my feet,
I've read to the west there's more to see.

I grow tired...

No sleep
Always thirsty
Left with poison drink to quench him.

Left scars
      Of all kinds
In and out his body.

I planned a ******,
And everyone is watching.

I found a man all alone
No marks upon his wrist
No constant chimes; un-alert
Silence found in empty pockets.

No peace,
Flooded by noise
Even just to sell him something

Dull the mind
Familiar scenes
Destroy that urge to be somebody

I planned a ******,
And everyone is watching.

I weighed him down
With guilt and secrets
Made him work to earn his prison.
Swapped his foods with garbage
Now he's weak, and always eating.

No trust
Always anxious
Heart racing through finite beats

I hid behind that boy's eyes
And prayed he'd never seek me.

I planned a ******
And everyone is watching

He'll punch that bag until he doesn't hurt again.

Until his side's are Split

And his body is rebuilt      

Dare fiends catch him by surprise again.


                                        Stay right and pray

He abandoned faith, hope got away

He can see your pain

He always was a betting man


You found something inside of him.

Until you show what he can see

The darkest parts you cannot reach.

And passion will ignite again.


                                     Wipe the sweat away

You're perfect now, he's here to stay

He can feel your pain

He never was a betting man.

I bet you cross
Today a thousand thoughts.
Tracking the hours, then minutes
Impatient to get off.

Imagine you instead
Wasted this time pacing
Inside your head,
Turning your feet hard.
Wearing the pavement beneath soft.

Until you can drown each whisper
After all, noise falls faster
Under water.
And in the depths you find a
Way to make the idea factory
Mesh it's gears and stop.

So you may spend your days
Amidst a monitor's faint glow.
No more comforting than the thought
Of plummeting from
the 15th story window.

Your slim-fit dress shirt escapes
From the back of knee worn slacks.
Your shoes wearing faster
Than you can now afford.

The details of the least importance
Burns a flawed self image
Within your skull.
From your unkempt hair
That for now  wildly grows,
To the wearing of your outter soles
As you fail to stand properly
Upon your twisted ankles.

You can smile when they look.
You eat well!
Yet struggle to maintain a car
And still maintain your health.

Your benefits have long since suffered
To brace and sustain society.
And you can't help but
Show your true colors
Trying to afford to keep your rotting teeth.

You fill your stomach with convenience,
Racing for success before decay.
Filling your walls with screens at home;
Slamming doors and windows,
To help pass the time away.

As you feel yourself slipping
Into the screen - screaming behind
The tinted plastic, until you have released
The latch on the window,
(And of your soul)
And dropped the weighted burdens
From above your feet.

They tell me these ideas -
Tales that only in
My dreams can surface,
Are signs of madness
Best left at rest
Within more charismatic hands.
And only then, would the print suggest is
Submerged within an artist.

I feel a chapter has come to an end...

Of distractions;

of attracting disaster.

I can't seem to grasp a single thought
Long enough to hold it to the light.

All the lines I've crossed feel two steps back.

All the miles burned grow quiet.

No more distractions outside of purpose
No pre-packaged mindsets;
        perspectives for purchase.

I can't help but think of all forgone
To appear as more than a statistic.
Capture still that I have gained
Ill faith is what I am left with

Honesty remains a brutal burden
To test what life can be like
When we pull back the curtains.

And I can't seem to grasp a single thought
Long enough to build a sense of right.

For empathy they proclaimed i lacked

And from outside their lives,
I would be left a fool denying.

Quiet your chest
You hear that beat?
Risen higher not for myself
Me, I'm still tapping
A sound of voices to be heard--
Not silenced
Deafened ears to deliver a proposal

Success should stand alone, suggests
Men like me were given the world

Dreams are grown to fill empty spaces
Not koffers stuffed with expectations
Swapping lanes with no pedigree
Standing face to face
Both sets of shoes strapped to the streets

I plead only to be named
Before I drown in false decree
For what society sells
That I should stomach, or
Gain a swollen head and
Shrinking stomach

Shaking hands force I'll upon me
The world held steadfast with labels
They cry out for fixing
Core still, nor crust budging
I fix my mouth
With furled brow

Or I shall suffer for sins
Of fathers before me, no.
Shame success and dash
Madly for a swifter ending
To set finale, a silent resolution

Will it my memory stain;
Have my words mean something, then
I must stifle sounds and symptoms
Suggestions of suffering
Lest they betray, and

Allow the pages to burn
Away at this facade
Toe to toe my lines
To their words will claim me

Accosted by the inflicted
Afforded no frustration
Check the box, X
A default male Caucasian
Filling the need for false standard
--Lost still among a victim generation.

Savage lands bare all life, depraved -Progress reaped from primal battles waged
Be vandal, than gentle dweller,
Counted by more viscious  prey;
Hardpressed to walk      
                           Eternally amongst the grave.

To have grown to know my ailments
                 and  remain unnervingly Divine
One would surmise:
     This Woman must have
                                      always courted pain.

I sense within my core
The fiercest of hearts in shackles -
Felled by a love's entrancing beauty
As would burn bright a spreading flame.

She walks, though implicit of my crimes!
With pressed lips,
Cheating mine of innocence.
The culprit, cradled by the night, remains;
With choice of stolen hearts and minds.
The cost to free a  fire-tempered soul
And find her love an altruist un-chained.

To have valued devotion
          and thus I write Divine
She embraced the beast
          Within this ruthless man.

A Moonlit piano sings of life's great works.
A starlit night framed for adoration.
Like your ever vindicating love,
Not the least of Guilty men dare question.

Between starved lines of manifested fears,
Might I find a new Lenoire in waiting.

I stay awake awaiting sleep
or a reply.
the door keeps on knocking,
Friends to let the world in
And within my best interest.

I hide as the music plays on
only to answer as they walk away.
I deadbolt the door
only the want of a chime
And car alarms to keep me awake.

I want her to say it's all right
that I go for awhile
I want her to comfort and assure me
that it was a mistake
to leave him and that she doesn't need me.

And I want the guilt to stop rising
Throbbing
As the car doors keep slamming
as the front door keeps knocking.

I started out a friend
from the other side I came calling
And fed my own ends
only to beg for forgiveness
And hide behind my door
that remains unshattered

before I can rest
the porch creeps three times,
then once, sounds of wooden footsteps.
I shut out the light
And see a glow from a message
bury it in the couch
fore there is no happy ending
Only guilt and fear of truth
as the car doors keep slamming.

A torn stitch, once the scar has healed.
We could of saved the moment.
I couldn't hold the camera still.

Smiling faces, lost amongst the crowd
How do you feel
About the way it all turned out.

Two solid lines would seal the deal.
It had to be another.
I had another role to fill.

That ship had sailed; the bow run aground.
How do you feel
About the way it all turned out.

A wary saint, she couldn't save me still.
She followed the sun.
I stayed to reap the fields.

I hear waves, if I do not make a sound.
How do you feel
About the way it all turned out.

A wise man, nothing left but time to ****.
He took me in.
I fought but couldn't fit the bill.

In a weak moment, his throne I tore it down
How do you feel
About the way it all turned out.

It's a strange thing to think by word of mouth,
I play the fool they paint me.
That I should earn respect in place of doubt.

Now all is silent, I dare not make a sound.
How else should I feel
About the way it all turned out.

I fell tired today.
Not weak,
Like a withering **** in setting, no.
I was not.
I fell tired like the cooling rails
Beneath an angry train car,
Pressing and creaking before his last stop.
And I stopped, to take

A breath of fresh air would pass me by.
I fall behind, and lose sight of my thoughts.
And if I'm only trepidation, I only mind --
Behind a set of eyes that lock
On to what should have been a glympse.
I find pride in

A will to endure: that of which
I owe simply what I've slowed to give.
Here I find the waning use of penitence.
I checked my laurels; signed them,
Cashed them, Spent.
I press to the rails and though I'm no train,
Assuming the weathered do not break, we rest.

I'm still grinning.
I live simply.
Picture as I fell
I did not have to count,
For all my blessings were at hand.
And with an open palm
And protesting of my mind, they fit.
Dare it to think - Dare I.

I'm spinning. My entire life I've chased
Never stopping to weigh my destination.
Though my past is catching up
I'm as sure as the beams beneath me.
A free ticket wouldn't get me on.
Be coy as you can muster.
Save face and save prefacing.
Breathe, my old friend, I've fallen tired.
The train has left the station.

Her heart broke in fractions
It took time to mind
Whilst her world was crashing
She cleaned her plate to mine

The scraps left from debt
Remnants of a feast
Shreds that I’ll collect
And painfully admit It feeds me.

And when her hands are clean
And the mess seems far away
I’m left to reconstruct
From sifting through a memory

They gather in the parlor
Living the best,
Sharing the worst
She felt the need to live
As I never was

And what am I to write about
Once blame and anger passes
Passages that twist perception
are now without a precedence

Erosion left behind
Room for pain to grow
I’m to believe in change
And with my unsoiled hands
**** the seeds you sowed?

Honey,
I’m left fitting pews,
And filling words upon a tombstone.


I’ve amassed a fortune
Of doubts, thoughts and analogies
Forgetting we were all once fools
Reminding souls of forgotten dreams

A dying flame, that draws the weary
Answers soft voiced questions
With T’s to dot, she eyes the cross
Finding blessings she forgot to mention

Blue/Green flames are those we tend,
Tend to last and remember
I placed my will outside of reach
To draw the fleeting to the dying embers

Purgatory is sprouting tulips
Dante’s returned home
But honey,
I’m left fitting pews,
And filling words upon a tombstone.

Somethings not right here

Somethings never right here

I've misplaced my good sense

I swore I left it right here



Touch your chest

Wait for the beat

That's life;.that's living.

It's Goodbye love,  It's poetry

This place is a run down, poorly lit bus stop on the wrong side of town. You're stranded at birth and die waiting on the bus home.

It suits me just fine.

These rocks beneath my feet,
The earth in which I'm grounded.
I kick the sand into the air
The dirt in which we're buried.

Somewhere we are told,
Is a world in our own.
A fighting soul that cannot fly,
Forced to call a planet home.

Dare I think it for a moment,
A single thought is fleeting:
Shared between a single conscience.                                           ----A universal meeting.

Fore if a soul was so divine,
Whole in all it's meaning
There would be not but isolation,
And nothing left worth seeing.

Hold me right within your pull
Embraced in all your glory.
Fore all I claim is my perspective
All I have to give: My Story

Thirty days tomorrow,
a slightly disheveled gait.

And the debt to be paid
In waking to the painful knowing
That noone wants closure.

It's waking every day.
Waking sober.

Dear Mary. Dear Theresa. Dear Eve.

I write to you to see
My daily reminder
To be sovereign

Test not the waters
Waves will brake alone

Let Mary talk. She needs this
The world listens.
Man need not be present

Dear Diary,

We were hunters. Free.
How could one soaked in blood
Enraged with life
Contrive such marital obligations?

Do we dedicate ourselves to such,
Or simply ones self?

Give her a year, give her a day.
Give her a minute.
Give unto women that of which is woman's.

Give it a rest.
He spoke, 'Let the dead bury the dead'

Dear God,

Like the birds in the field I do not worry
Return my rib
I give not. I detest.

There is no Lenoir
Heralds stripped from us society
Leaving me to draw meaning
Or faulter
My name, upon the lips of my accusers
Shall warn.

But if I walk...

Content, I walk.

For what is left to offer
I ask in your final chapter
Who among you, could say that they are happy?

I use to look at your picture every day.
Then four times a week.
As of tomorrow,
I'll have almost made two weeks.
A long time passed.
Excruciating.

I'm not OK
They pay me to be.

I planted tulips last spring.
They weren't for you,
But I thought they could be.

The tulips bloomed again
Three red, one yellow.
As bright as your carnation
On prom night yellow.

The tulips bloomed too early
Hence the wilting.
I said I'd pull the weeds and tend.
It's almost been two weeks.
Excruciating.