He got supa dupa playa status
Got me off twice this week
And we ain’t even met
Yet

Poetry
For me
Is loving words and their fluidity
I can say the same thing
In ten different ways
Make up new words
Go into a craze
As long as it’s something
Others might feel
Those beloved words become real

The ocean shore is my comfort place
The sounds
The smells
Looking at the same scene
Different every second
Yet predictable
My stress melts away
As soon as my bare feet hit sand
It’s as close as I can get to walking on water
While never leaving land

Ghosts of my own
Shadows passing
From past mistakes
Drove a stake
Straight
Into remnants of fate
And erased every mark
That I made on this place
Pearly gates
I’ve been pounding on
Just empty space

So it’s back to the study
Of tending to legacy
How and why
Man persists
Writing his history

Down in the rabid
Whole world
Gone to war
Down in dumps
Of lined-pockets
That buy and sell more
Down beneath the extinction
Clockwork
Agent Orange
Down furthermore still
In its cluster bomb
Torrent

So back to the study I go
Tending legacy
Soon I will know
How and why
I write history

Barely an enemy
Faced on the front
But the one in the mirror
Undaunted confront
For we go to our graves
Free to liberate slaves
But we settle
For personal,
Tribal enclaves
Just a trivial anecdote
Lost in dilution
Delusions of
Sought after
Final solution

So back to the study we must
Tend to legacy
Soldier on
King and pawn
Written in history

He is my amnesia boyfriend
C’mon
You know that guy
You know you used to love him
But you can’t remember why

You don’t like to share your stories
No one asks anymore
History forgotten.

By everyone but you
Your past must have been painful
For you to have to go through
One day, when you’re ready
If you ever are
Walk with me on the beach
Under that daytime star
And wash your insides out
Empty them to me
Use and abuse my ear
Spit it out in screams and swears
Purge that **** right onto me
Demand to us both that you are free
Confessions made to the sea

You’re not perfect
But you know that
Which makes you more perfect than most
Guys who come close

Thus far
I haven’t noticed
That you’re not perfect
But reason and sanity say it must be true
The first one to tell me you are imperfect
Would most certainly be you