This lethargy is far greater than any I ever had,
Far lengthier,
I feel like a part of me has left.

Might be punishment from a sentient being in the cosmos.

Why does it feel so numb?
How long have I been sleeping?
May be there's nothing more left to say.

I could compare the skies to lets say,
An expansion of thoughts,
Or an endless supply of "what if's"?

Does that make sense?
Not really, not to me.

I could write about love?
No, not that, that's already been done.

Maybe sadness?
But who really feels like weeping?

That's enough question marks for a poem, no?

Maybe some excitement!
Exclamations!
Points!

Ah that's enough of that!
I'm starting to look crazy now!

Maybe switch the point of view?
Why am I still talking to myself?
Are YOU still reading?

Again with the questions?!

Enough!

I got to add some emotion,
And a good cliffhanger...

Let's make it rhyme:
"Love" rhymes with "dove",
"Send" rhymes with "mend? Lend? Bend?"
What else rhymes with "send"?
Oh I know! THE END!

And how can I say I love you,
how do I put it in words,
when I draw my inspirations from sadness,
and for once I've found happiness,
in you.

I want to express my love for you in a thousand ways:
Claim I'll climb the highest mountain,
swim the deepest sea,
cross the biggest desert.
But that's a problem for me.

Like a god gets his powers from an elixir,
my ambrosia comes from sadness.
I'm not a happy ending kind of guy,
I write to death,
to losing,
to the defeated;
and for once you've changed all that.

But who cares if I can't write any longer,
who cares if I lost my touch.
I rather live happy having you,
than to write a million poems,
wanting so bad to hold you.

I'm happy that I have you,
and I just want you to know,
I love you.

In another life
I'm a miserable pianist performing for a bunch of drunks in some forgotten nightclub in some big city, or perhaps in the middle of nowhere, I play better than Ray Charles, better than Mozart, I'm alone, but I'm happy.
In another life
I never left that job that made me so miserable, my body is still broken, but I have a job, and a life, and a meaning, and perhaps I died doing what I loved, I'm getting that promotion that cost me my marriage.
In another life
I don't live in this city, these four walls are not my prison, my body is not this cage that the song keeps reminding me it is, my kitchen is not freezing, my room doesn't reek of bad decisions, I still work out, I am alive, and I am living.
In another life
I'm a singer, a public performer making spare change thrown in a hat in the middle of the street in Mexico, or England, or in a corner beside a cathedral, I live in the streets, but I am happy.
In another life
I wrote the number one best-selling novel in the world, my books have been translated countless of times and I'm a poet laureate invited to galas and celebrations at the white house, and I mingle with celebrities and royalty.
In another life
I am a champion boxer, or the greatest dancer, a certified chef, a glorified grand hero, I am the Dalai Lama, or the Pope, or some great religious figure that crowds follow into perdition.
In another life
I lived the many lives I wanted to live, but not this one,
anything, but this one.

Your heart's a vase,
And I'm the last drop of water.
I'm a ten foot rope,
And you a twenty foot tower.

I'm a candle that's melting,
Burning for you.
You're ice that's melting,
Slowly changing too.

Loving you is like loving a star,
Only at night I see you,
Only at night and from afar.
I can't reach you.

I say I love you.
You say "love me not!"
Why can't you see I'm burning for you?
"Cause it's too hot."

I awoke, but not as usual, I opened my eyes, but I wasn't facing my bedroom wall, I wasn't under the comfort of my blankets, I was not on my bed. I was laying on my bedroom floor; I was restless. I must've slept all night long, but my body didn't feel like it had any fresh energy, I could feel an intense pain in my stomach, as if someone had poured acid down my throat. I sat up, I was wearing only my underwear, like usual; but I had blood all over my chest. I looked to my left, and on the floor sat the bottle of pills I hid behind my computer, completely empty.
I heard knocks on the door, it was my mom's voice telling me it was past 12, when was I going to get up. She'd walk in and see me covered like this, she'd think something's wrong with me, she would finally want to take me to a psychologist. But I couldn't let her see me like this, I forced my body up against my aching stomach, "I'm awake", I yelled, but she kept on knocking, I could hear her getting the spare key from under the rug, she began unlocking the door. I had to do something before she saw me, I reached for the dead bolt knowing she didn't have a key for that one, but it was too late, she walked in.
"I can explain" I said, I began talking but her eyes never stopped to meet mine, she stared directly at the empty bottle of pills on the floor; the floor, was covered in blood. She screamed when she realized my bed was empty, music played from my phone, -I hadn't heard it until this moment-, almost as a perfect background. I kept talking to her but she wouldn't hear me, "Mom I'm sorry, please stop ignoring me", but she wouldn't even look at me, she opened my closet door, and stared at something I couldn't see, she fell to her knees and began wailing. I walked towards my closet and found, myself.
"But how?" I yelled, I'm right here, I could see my body, covered in blood, I laid there with a tie around my neck, my mouth covered in saliva; "Momma I'm right here momma!!!".
But she never turned around, I tried hugging her, but my arms just ran through her. I couldn't even remember what made me do it, I was sad, but I didn't know why. I had tried it before, but I would always end up chickening out, what must've been hurtful enough to make me do it; why would I do it! She began calling 911... she just sat there, -it felt as if time stopped for me-. The ambulance arrived, I tried telling the paramedics I was right here: Maybe they could hear me, maybe someone would tell me this was just a prank, maybe I'd wake up staring at my bedroom wall; but no matter how many times I closed and open my eyes, it was still the same sad scene.
They picked the body up and put it on a stretcher, the medic checked for vitals, but he just stared at my mother's eyes, "I'm sorry", he said. They walked out of my room, and my mom followed them holding... holding MY hand, I couldn't deny it any longer, the person going into that ambulance was me. I screamed and I hollered, but they never returned, "I did it", I thought. I stood there all alone, crying. Suddenly a dark figure stood on the doorway, she raised her long thin fingers, extending her bony palm towards me; I held it,
I was no longer.

When the time comes
That my heart no longer beats
my bones will rattle in a wooden cage
And my soul will still scream
I was once a Marine

If life takes me down dark roads
Or if I climb the highest hills
If I'm rich or I'm poor
I will still remember deep within
I was once a Marine

To Tun Tavern
And to Basilone
To Chesty To Smedley
To Mattis and the EGA
To the halls of Montezuma
To the shores of Tripoli

If for twenty or only four
It is still the birthday of our corps
To 247 I will toast and say
Raise hell and semper Fi
Do or die. For once a Marine.
Always a Marine.

**** me, but don’t end my existence.
****** me, but let me still breathe.
Shoot me, but not with a gun.
You can end me, yet not take my life.

How? By torturing me eternally,
By making my life a living hell,
By turning my pain into misery,
By destroying what’s left of my spirit.

Your words burn through me more than bullets,
Your cruel stare creeps into my skin worse than being pierced,
Your cold hands burn out the fire left in my heart.
Your once so warm voice is now just a demon’s whisper.

The pain in my mind is poisoning what’s left of my sanity,
The ghosts in every corner judge me senselessly,
The shadows are catching up to me no matter how fast I run.
The devil himself has bargained my soul.

You who I loved the most is who hurts me the worst;
I who gave you everything gained nothing at all.
You who swore the heavens and the constellations on our love;
I who like a child believed your deceptions and fell for your trap.

There’s no need for a lethal shot or weapon to destroy me:
Simply the fact that my putrefying heart still beats for you,
That my decaying mind still thinks of you and will till I finally rest,
Is punishment enough for the grotesque crime I committed,
Loving you.

Let it flow through you,
as cold waters in an icy river.
Let the steam within you cool down,
though it may cause you a fever
let your spirit drown.

Lay still and blend in with your room,
let the darkness stain your rags.
Open the window for the moonlight,
let it be your soul companion,
be calm, don't fight it.

Drink from the springs of youth,
don't let the waters pass you by.
Let the emotion over take you,
no matter how much you cry,
it will be worth in the end.

Tear the paper and start over,
sharpen the pencil then snap it again.
Think of me or think of your lover,
the paper the ground, your tears the rain.
Let it flow through you, yes even the pain.

Don't rush it, take your time,
let it flow through you.
Don't worry if no words come out,
let the darkness encase you.
Cry if you will and spill on the page,
let the emotions over take you.

Let it flow through you.
Let it flow through you.
Let it flow through you.

Why do tears taste like saltwater?
When we're so far away from any shore.
Why do our eyes turn red?
When all we feel is blue.

Why does time never go back?
We make so many mistakes.
Why must it always be too late?
To say I'm sorry and to forget.

Why does time only slow down
When its "goodbye" and nothing else,
The only words that we can say.
Forgive. Hold on. The silence yells.

Why do tears taste like saltwater?
Might be the reason the ocean's blue.
Why can't we face the mirror wall?
Why do we do...the things we do?

Why must we become contenders?
What happened to the word "partners"?
I ask my reflection and I ask you.
Why do tears taste like saltwater?

There's a slumber party in the cemetery going on,
yet here I am trapped in my bed all by my own.
There are dressed up corpses shaking in their caskets,
while I lay here like an apple in a basket.

The concerto of hell is playing tonight,
and in the rings of fire there's a fight.
The cadavers are all dancing till they rot,
I may as well place my head inside a knot.

To the six feet under ball is where I'm going,
tonight I let the rivers of blood start flowing.
This year's monster mash I cannot miss,
so good bye I wave you with a kiss.

You can come too and I'll get you a matching casket;
common now all you got to do is ask it!

I've had it! I told myself, "It's been five days and his lights still keep me awake!" My neighbor John, -whom I by the way have had a few issues with in the past-, would not turn off the lights in his living room, which I would not have a problem with, if it weren't for his living room window being directly across my room.
Every night he stands by his window facing my room, he moves from time to time, but it seems though he prefers to stand there and watch. I wake up, and he still stands there, I would reply or scream at him, but I'm not sure he could hear me, plus I'm not sure he can see me, since the curtains in my house are always closed, still, the light from his house reflects onto my bedroom.
I go to work, and he's standing there, at night when I get ready for bed, he stares, and I know because I can see his shadow simply creeping, yet I can't help but feel pity; you see, John's girlfriend left him two months ago and John became heart broken, refusing to come out of his house. I would usually see him watering his peach tree, or working on his jeep, but for the past five days John hasn't stepped outside, nor has he moved from his **** window while I'm there.
It's been enough days and I've had it, I walked to John's house and slammed on his door, but no reply. I knew he was in there, I'd just seen him through my living room window. "You better open this door John!", I said banging against the front door; still there was no sound. "I will break this door open if you don't answer!", I turned the doorknob; but it wasn't locked. I simply stepped in ready to give John a piece of my mind; but I was five days too late. John was gone, except for his body still hanging from the ceiling...

When it's someone else kissing you,
and his lips just aren't enough.
When it's me thats missing you,
Will you remember me then?

When he makes love to you,
but he cant take your breath away.
When his home becomes your cage,
will you remember me then?

When silence is your only companion,
and the darkness in your room fills your soul.
When your heart calls my name,
will you remember me then?

When you finally think of me,
and of all the times that you hurt me.
Remember love the words I said,
beauty fades but love remains.

But by then, I won't love you.

I think I love her
But she will never love me
Two boats lost at sea

If I got lost in your eyes,
would you help me find my way back?
If my hands held yours too,
could we dance a song or two.
Could you? Would you?

Tell me can you feel it?
The beating of my heart,
Tell me can you hear it?
The tempo of our feet.
Hear it. Feel it.

The lights shine brightly,
your lips seem to glow,
hold me darling a bit tighter,
let the dance floor grow.
Brighter. Tighter.

If I kissed you, would you forgive me?
And if you liked it, could I have one back.
If the camera's on us, let us be actors,
forbidden lovers for play pretend,
just hold me closer,
don't let this end.

So take this night and hold my hand,
freeze the whole world,
capture the moment,
for when it's gone and I awaken,
I know I'll miss you,
I hope you will too...

Baby I've met someone else,
she has gorgeous dark hair;
she likes to hear all my tales,
I think we make a beautiful pair.

Baby her hand fits in mine,
just like yours did back then;
but maybe I'm wasting her time,
comparing her to you back when.

Baby she listens to the same music you do,
she even likes the same singer as you;
her favorite song is the one we danced to,
Oh baby, I'm still loving you.

There's no reason to say good bye yet
I'm still breathing each gasp for you
Spare me some love if you still will
Breathe into my lips just one more kiss
Let me feel your arms around my soul
Enter one last time into my center
Kiss me ever so slowly
My body is the winter of your eyes
Yours the burning summer on my skin
Touch me so I will melt this freezing snow
And drip like cascades down your thighs
If tomorrow the sun should rise
Let us be caught like two thieves
Who risked everything for nothing at all.

Laugh all you want at my pain,
pretend you have no memory of my name;
but for all the times that you saw me in tears,
oh darling, you better cover your ears.

You can evade me in the city,
and tell all your friends you simply had pity.
Assure them you moved on and I hold a grudge,
it’s alright honey, I will not budge.

But even if your mind wrote our story in a different way,
your eyes will never let you hide away,
your lips will always yearn the touch of mine;
but by the time you realize you loved me back,
I will have healed with time.

Amor...
si un día te ofende el espejo,
ve por mis ojos,
y por ellos mira tu reflejo,
y ve lo hermosa que eres.

Si un día tu corazon es quebrantado,
toma el mio,
que siempre estara a tu lado,
y siente lo mucho que yo te eh amado.

Si un día el frío te congela,
siente el calor de mis manos,
cuáles tanto te anhelan,
y queman por tocar tus manos.

Si un día el cansancio te llega,
sube a mis hombros,
y toma una tregua,
que por ti sostendria hasta el mundo.

Y si un día la edad nos desvanece,
recuerda que como el sol,
que cada nuevo día más fuerte amanece,
así es mi amor por ti.

You say it's not original,
or that you've read that before,
you must do a hell lot of reading.

I've never strived for originality,
many search for that, I don't.

Its not possible.

I'm not Shakespeare,
I don't steal other people's work.

If I wrote what I wanted to,
well it'd be a whole different story,
if I wrote what I wanted to,
I'd be Cohen by now.

but I don't.

I don't write poems,
poems write me;
maybe by now my razor blade isn't sharp enough,
maybe by now my pencil has become blunt:

But I know one thing many don't;

my poems are an autobiography,
my life is the one I make up.

Your name is that of a flower,
but one I cannot mention.
Your surname is that of a mountain,
but one I cannot climb.

You smiled at me with those baby teeth of yours,
almost as if laughing at an old joke only we knew;
and your eyes, by god your eyes,
I could still see us many years ago.

We held hands under a blanket once,
remember that?
We've grown so much my precious flower,
but deep within we're still the same two children,
the ones that ran out and hid from your father.

I still see the obscurity of that armoire,
when we first kissed.
I still sing that Elton John song,
it reminds me of you,
did you know he wrote it?
It was probably about us.

In the Garden of Gethsemane,
alone while the world stood against me.
I was your shield while you cried on my shoulder,
yet to you I was only worth 30 silver.

You came and kissed me on the cheek,
stabbing the last knife on my chest,
Et tu brute? Why? You too?

He sat to my right in class,
never did much,
he simply wrote through the lesson,
maybe that's why he couldn't pass.

He spoke of limericks and sonnets,
he loved haikus and free verse;
he liked talking but hated listening,
so he always failed the tests.

He told me he published a book,
in fact I saw it, placed on his desk.
I asked if I could take a look,
maybe then he'd let me rest.

He kept on talking even then,
wouldn't let me hear the lesson,
but I did not want to offend,
so I smiled till the end.

He failed the class my poet friend,
but I heard he had another book,
he goes by selling it to public libraries,
maybe one day I'll take a look.

The sun can fade,
The skies can clear,
But I wont care,
Because I know,
You'll still be here.

We could grow old,
The years could roll,
But I'll be fine,
Because I know,
You'll still be mine.

Our paths could spread,
Our knots extend,
But I have faith,
If you love me now,
You'll love me then.

One never knows,
So we both stare,
I say I do,
Because I know,
I'll still be there.

They don't believe,
And call us fools,
But they don't know,
That even then,
I'll still be yours.

My love for you,
Will grow times ten,
Because I know,
If I love you now,
I'll love you then.

Your love is like an island,
and I'm an outcast in troubled waters,
your skin is the color of the sand,
but I don't think that matters.

Your hair is like the palm trees,
that stand tall against the tempest,
each one a warrior gliding between the breeze,
sharing a different story of loss and conquest.

Your eyes just like the ocean moon,
the ones I claimed were mine,
I prayed to see them soon,
sadly I never had the time.

Your hands were like the shore,
dragging me closer to your center,
and believe me you were all that I adored,
still I never dared to enter.

Your voice was like a mermaid's song,
that washed away my tears,
and although I was all alone,
it cleansed me from my fears.

You are the reason why I survived,
you were my ego you were my pride,
the only essence that kept me alive,
was knowing I had you by my side.

But when rescue came at last,
and took me back to bay,
I remained stranded in the past,
hoping to once more, be your castaway.

No te culpo por lo que pasó entre nosotros.
Nuestro amor náufrago se había quedado varado en momentos vacíos.
Como páginas rasgadas en libros que compramos y nunca leímos,
los colocamos tan alto en libreros ahora cubiertos de polvo.
Las mismas canciones tristes suenan una y otra vez en el fondo de mis pensamientos,
pero no hay un acorde secreto que levante y encienda el fuego que una vez ardió tan brillantemente.
Llegó el invierno y con el se llevó el calor de tu cuerpo,
la luz de mis ojos,
el sabor de tus labios,
el mismo aliento de mis pulmones,
y hasta el sonido que produce tu boca cuando me dices
"Te amo."
Las estaciones cambiaron,
y la primavera llegó sin sus flores de cerezo.
Los barcos que contenían nuestras esperanzas zarparon,
mientras todavía estábamos a kilómetros de darnos cuenta de lo lejos que estábamos.
No queda nada,
mas que el silencio ensordecedor de nosotros,
cara a cara,
sin nada que decir,
Solo el recuerdo de nuestro amor caído,
lo que una vez fue, lo que pudo haber sido.
Tú y yo, no más.

I never knew freedom
Was just as much of a prison
As looking out the window
Thru four metal bars.

Another day
Still waiting
Waiting to live
Waiting to die

I see them on the streets
Cars with no destination
Aimless pedestrians
Empty bone sacks

They are me
I am them
Walking past the river
In search of water

The springs of my youth
Are flowing by like a midday parade
And I can only spectate
I thirst for more

I never knew

Spring only lasts one second
Summer an hour
Autumn an eye wink
And winter just long enough

To see myself
Behind four metal bars.

I don't blame you for what happened between us.
Our castaway love had become stranded in empty moments
that like torn pages in books, we bought in garages sells,
but never read, and placed so highly upon bookshelves,
Now covered in dust.
The same sad songs play over and over in the back of my thoughts,
but there's no secret chord that will lift up and ignite the fire that once burned so brightly.
Winter came and with her she took the warmth of your body,
the light in my eyes,
the taste of your lips,
the very breath from my lungs,
and the memory of the sound your mouth makes when you'd tell me
"I love you."
The seasons changed,
and spring came without her cherry blossoms.
The vessels that contained our hopes sailed away,
while we were still miles from realizing how far apart we were.
There's nothing left,
but the deafening silence of us,
face to face,
with nothing left to say,
but just the memory of our fallen love,
what once was, what could've been.
you and I, no more.

I'm looking for a dancer,
A midnight chancer.
One hand to hold,
A secret told.

I'm searching for a lover,
Mine own Mallory,
And when it's all over,
A memory.

I'm begging to Eros,
He give me one chance,
To fire his arrows,
And find me a heart.

Thats all I'll send,
No prayers or messenger doves,
Just a poem with no end,
I'm searching for love.

Lacrimosa have mercy on me,
a kiss on my cheek is my only desire,
oh conspirator cease torturing me.
inside my heart you're stirring a fire.

Lacrimosa bring with you winter rains.
I surrender my silvery heart to your claim,
will you heed my whispers, oh merciless dame?
and with forceful hand erase her name.

Lacrimosa you've made me weak yet strong,
I am but salt in your ocean of fear.
I beg you to mercy this servant for his wrong,
and from my eyes you'll drop a single tear.

The mirror weeps
The same old tears
That fell upon me
All of those years

My arms they've held
The lives now lost
I've lived their life
But at what cost

I'm not the poet
That I once was
I'm not the man
Of days now past

If loneliness is nothing more
Than a lonely robin hiding
From the cold inside a pine tree
In the middle of a frozen northeastern
Central park,
Then I'm the bark wood collected beneath
It's claws.

Love always ends in heartbreak,
be it a month, a year, a decade,
or a lifetime.
Love always ends in heartbreak,
one leaves, one cheats, one dies first,
but it will always end in heartbreak.
The point is how long we can prolong it.

It is dark and scary
And everyone must live through it
Time rolls by like the wheels on a semi
At the interstate from Georgia
Down to Dallas without stops
I'm afraid
The end is coming
I'm too young to die
Too old to live
And yet the springs of my youth are flowing past without me even drinking from them.

Oh padre mío, ¿Qué ha sido de ti?
Qué te ha hecho la vida,
te miras tan cansado ya,
Con tus ojos tristes llenos de recuerdos.
Veo tus errores marcados en las líneas
de tu frente,
siento en el choque de tu mano
como tiemblan tus huesos,
Tú me abrazas, pero tus brazos ya no tienen fuerza.

Oh padre mío, ¿Qué ha sido de ti?
Te fuiste en un día soleado con tus hombros
amplios y llenos de poder,
-me dejaste sonriendote-,
mientras las lágrimas de mi madre caían sobre mí.
Y ahora has vuelto con tus trapos
empapados con lluvia fría,
tus pies cortados y quemados por los fuegos que has cruzado;
te escucho y me hablas con una voz arrepentida.

Oh padre mío, ¿Qué ha sido de ti?
Mira tus dedos, tu mano izquierda,
donde una vez guardabas ese anillo de aquel amor,
que tanto afirmabas tener por mi madre,
ahora reemplazado por una oración.
El reloj en tu muñeca,
congelado en el tiempo en que te fuiste.
Padre soy tu hijo, mírame padre mío,
que soy tu en el espejo,
te entiendo y siento tu dolor,
Siento tu miseria,
tu tristeza y tu rencor.


Oh padre mío, ¿Qué ha sido de ti?
Han sido diecisiete años,
muchas cosas han pasado desde ayer,
ya no soy el niño que te miraba golpeando a tu propia mujer;
ya no soy el niño que dejaste de querer.
No te odio padre mío,
porque tú y yo somos tan diferentes
y tan iguales a la vez.
Padre yo soy tu hijo,
pero tu no eres mi padre.

Te amo,
Te amo implacablemente,
Te amo con una fuerza tan fuerte como las mareas oceánicas.
Te amo en muchos lugares,
Te amo en público y en secreto,
En los secretos, que mi corazón esconde.

Te amo sin decir,
Te amo cuando te miro,
Y cuando me miras,
Te amo más.

Te amo cuando te cuento todo,
Y te amo cuando no digo nada en absoluto.

Te amo con las rosas que mueren en unas semanas,
Justo como ellas se marchitan y mueren,
Te amaré hasta que me convierta en tu rosa.

Te amo sin pruebas,
Siendo yo el único testigo,
Testificaré que es cierto,
Y si el veredicto es amarte hasta la muerte,
Hasta entonces, te amaré.

Te he amado,
Te amo,
Y yo te amaré.
Te amo ahora, mañana y ayer.
Cada día más que antes.
Te amo, incluso ahora,
Y entonces,
Y una vez que este verso termine
Todavía te estaré amando,
porque eso es lo que hago
Lo qué haré,
Hasta que amarte
se convierta en lo único que quede por hacer.