Oh, how I do love you!
   a better spirit I will never know
her name,  her name is desire!
   spending all her day and nights
in my mind, tying my tongue in knots
    numb from toe to finger
when I picture her
    humbles me on a corner selling wooden
pencils, I see when cast her light upon me.
     Oh, how fair can fair be,
how much beauty can the day portray?

     No, none more than her fair eyes
turning once to gaze at me, here,
    a slight upturn to the corner
of her perfect lips. At me!
     If you love away, love me,
once , smile at me again, even from afar ,
desire, desire.

sometimes its hard
to remember the truth
since the truth is only
the present.
I can see how we
easily
lose grip of the memories.

regardless,
we are made of
star dust.
rock dust.
gold flecks.
titanium specks.

Dust to Dust
learn to trust in
the magic of things.

I've spent years in the desert
in dust storms
and in the heat.
the plants of the
desert
amaze me.
their leaves, so tiny.
resource management
is the skill of the desert.

when those haboobs
roll in, the world
goes dark.
(at least over the desert)
if we weren't in our little boxes,
our eyes would
burn from our own particles.
burn to see
the phenomenon the brain
coaxes us to believe.

Dust to Dust
learn to trust in
the magic of things.

we are star dust
learn to trust
in the magic of things.

When life gets you down
Remember it could be worse
You could be me
You could be jinxxed
You could be stuck in a well
You could be lost in the woods
When life gets you down
Remember it could be worse
You could be me
You could be jinxxed
You could be dying
You could be burning
When life gets you down
Remember it could be worse
You could be me
You could be jinxxed
There's no need to cut
There's no need to starve
I know what they said
I know that it hurts
I know there's little escape
I will hold you up
I will catch you when you fall
I will remind you again, and again
You are kind
You are pretty
No, You are beautiful
You are smart
You are funny
You are wanted
You are loved
Don't you ever forget that
Bvb army together we stand

best if i say right off this is gonna be *****
so if you believe in god or are under 30
or can't ride the rides in Disneyland
disembark
****, I forgot what
I had  in me dream,
****!!!!!!!!!!!
I stomp and jump up again and say **** It!!!!
Fucken all this crap!
I am so tired of chasing visions, so tired of  lying women
so tired of every buzz.
God ******* ****!!! **** me!
**** with a capital F I forgot to add the emphasis.
So full of ****** rhymes so full of bad times.
I just need to calm down, okay.
i am ok.
So, where was I, geez, a full load wheelbarrow falling **** into my lap.
I make it day to night, and sleep alone again. What have I to look forward to tomorrow. A hard day labor and a lonely night.
A fist full of dollars I **** away might as well just  take a crap on this whole world wipe my *** with a hundred dollar bill, then roll it up
and snoot a big *** of candy again up my nose.
I know you are tired of my whining. Look, I got a Major, a doctorate even,
in wallowing. I will never be okay  as long as I camoflauge my feelings. So, i am spilling them all out now, puking my guts up on your eyes in lil a big Z

I just want to let you know,
you don't go unnoticed;
I see you.

PS. But it'd be great if you could
come a little closer and thus then
I could hold you and tell you
everything is going to be okay.

                                                                    Sincerely,
                                          
                                                                   A friend who truly cares.

I have not been well lately
But I have a secret to tell you
It’s a success story: my most secret success
You see, I’m very skilled in crafting holes
And I’ve punched a massive hole
Right through the middle of my life

Please, don’t mistake this accomplishment for the result of talent
This is a skill and it takes practice to master
I went to college and learned to turn theories and ideals from basin to sieve
I learned to critique everything hopeful
And punched a hole right through the heart of hope
I honed my ability to close out creativity
I built a track down which to guide concrete linear thoughts
And I learned to use said thoughts as a battering ram with which to
Knock a hole in the barricaded door to dissatisfaction

And, though this skill is often practical
As you know, one cannot walk around wearing an open hole
So, a corresponding skill has successfully emerged
In parallel with nurturing voids
I have learned to conceal each and every hole
Sometimes with a thick canvass and
Sometimes with a paper-thin veneer
I may have learned to wrap a package
And to tie a bow
With the express purpose of packaging
The broken gift of life
Full of ugly holes

And, now, all that is left to complete the perfect ending to this success story
Is to grow old in a neatly kept apartment
Filled with the unseen haunts of relationships neatly hole-punched and
Filed in a hidden mental cabinet
Next to a night stand where I keep my phone and glasses
And across from the bed
There will be a glass trophy case
Full of trophies denoting various acceptable successes
But, just between you and I
The largest trophy denoting the largest success
Will be a lifetime achievement award
Bestowed for hollowing out what could have been
A beautiful life.

She’s the type of scary that isn’t in horror movies or Halloween decorations, not the kind that makes you scream or want to run away but the silent sort that paralyzes you and makes you wish you had never, not just lived, but existed at all after witnessing that type of darkness. The kind that instills mind shattering dread in your soul and the desire to simply crumble inwards totally destroyed in a pile of dust so you may never feel again because nothing will ever fix what you saw and felt. The kind of scary that makes you properly comprehend the word’s meaning. I would be wrong, however, if I were to tell you she is the worst kind of scary because the word “worst” means it’s the furthest on the scale and this terror is not on the same scale as any other sort of scary. This broke the scale. This is beyond. This is its own kind of scary. On its own level, in its own dimension, under its own category,
this


....is true scary....

Please comment I'd love to hear any thoughts! This is a description of a free verse poem describing one of the characters I created.