I wonder what the chances be
That he has never noticed me
Slim, really
And yet, here I still be
Waving my arms so vigorously
He need not acknowledge that he see
These poems aren’t only for him
They’re also for me
And I share them to he
So he can see how beautiful I think he be

Sometimes
I feel defeated
By my own need
To be noticed or readed
If I could settle for being obscure
I’d surely have a more peaceful world
But here I am writing this poetry
And it hurts my soul when nobody cares to see
I love these poems
They’re part of me
Apparently
Not as beautiful as I wish they could be

I remain tightly knotted
Intertwined
Bound to your line
But you’ve got so much slack
It’s unnoticeable to you
This tug of war
To get a twitch on your end
Is all this lonely fisherwoman
Can do
I cling to the pole
Replenish the bait
And wait for the current
To carry my fate

Abandoned
Deserved or not
Maybe a lifetime of this
Set far apart
Missing almost from the grid
Sort of solitary
Confinement
Sad poetry
Written by me
Karma
It must be
Alone with only me
Writing sad poetry
Bumming you out
Probably
What’s the use?!
Sad poetry

Is there a proper protocol for walking away?
Am I obligated to say
We have had our final day?  
Games we almost play
Forfeited for the too long wait
Stayed around way too late
I suppose an explanation isn’t
Necessary

I am glitter on Birkenstocks
A snazzy suitcase filled with rocks
A staircase leading anywhere
Dim for most the way there
Sometimes “who knows?”
Is the bestest place to go
Birkenstocks are comfortable
And diamonds are rocks too
What you think of me
Mostly
Depends on you

I asked him to go slowly
So he took it down to a crawl
When he gives me what I need
The medicine don’t go down sweet

I want to bring you peace
But that may be unlikely
I’m not the quiet type
I’m chaotic and flippy
All over the place
Yet steady and fun
A little too trippy
But a fun break from reality
Never hurt anyone
When I know the way
Back to sanity
Maybe you could
Go to crazy with me
And there we might find
The peace we seek

A glorious past
It’s certainly enough
To be great
And you don’t want to become what you
Hate
But I know in my heart you are better
Than that
Greater than a limit creator
Upon yourself
But all of us, too
You can’t be fresh and new
Get ova yaself, Boo
Youth fades
Wisdom  rains, reigns and reins
Don’t you got something else to say?

Did you know
And pretend to not?
How much guilt have you got?
Did you look the other way
Or justify
“Well, they want to play?”  
Are you mad at yourself
For what you didn’t say?
Would it have helped
Anyway?  
That thing been there
******* out all of the fresh air
Eating away at the game you love
All that **** you could never scrub
Is that why you walked away?  
Burdened with too much weight
Of all those things you couldn’t say
“Games” you didn’t want to play
And if that be the case
Will the justice long delayed
Have any effect on
Your decisions from today?

Shame on the moon
For gazing at you
That moon up there has some nerve
It’s  always spying upon you
Loneliness is what it deserves
Shame on the sun
For kissing your skin
Inviting you out of your clothes
But if I had the power to do that
I would, too, I suppose
Shame on the ocean
Engulfing your body
And lapping you with it’s waves
The tide comes in early when you are around
It’s clear to see what it craves
Most of all
Shame on me
For feeling so strongly
Impotently
One day you may know
How deep my feelings go
Until then from afar I will swoon
Look to the heavens
And shame the moon

You and I
Connected
Fo Eva Eva
Via Via
This poemonia

It is a devilish pleasure
Watching someone I dislike
Get their comeuppance
Admittedly
There is evil in me
The part which tells me
I am worthy to serve
An opinion regarding
What others deserve.

It was a set up
Really
Engineered by me
Unintentionally
But the way it turned out
So perfectly
Must have had something to do
With the Almighty
Smiling down upon me

My grandkids are playing with an
Adjustable bendy track
On which to run their cars
And this has quickly escalated into the
Race track wars
Of course
It is true
All the pieces look exactly the same
But
There is a particularly special piece
The little one thinks she has claimed
And now, out of the fifty other racetrack
Pieces
That could do the job
Her older brother
NEEDS that one
Particular piece
Apparently
For no other reason than
To **** with me

It must be an ugly side
I display
How can I not
When I display so openly
Of course there is an ugly side
I cannot see
Glaring obviously
To everyone
But me
I been kicked around
Occasionally
Some of those bruises never leave
Become invisible to me
Eventually

You’re in an imaginary war
Against non-existent threats
Nobody is caring enough to make
You’ve created opposition
To your position
An excuse for your loneliness
The excuse becomes the cause
And habit  
So give the excuses a rest

Is this gonna never be
Or a maybe, let’s see?
Bring me in closer
Or set me free
Whatever it be is fine for me
And fine for you, too
You’ll see
It is a kindness to say
“I’m not going your way.”

I’m not bleeding
Crying
Or claiming needing
Trying
By feigning my brain is frying
Or want to dying
I’m not berserk or flipping my lid
But would it help me if I did?

Sometimes
I love a poem
So I set it free
And nobody else
Likes it but me
It brings me confusion
What am I doing?
And why is it that no one sees?

The beloved invisible poems
Must be
Only meant for me

Quokka
Poor Quokka
So misunderstood
The grumpiest beast in the
Entire world

Pipe-smoking
Ill mannered
And lazy
Poets get a bad rep
Many don't smoke
And many work hard
But most are just crazy
As heck

I feel the effect
Of your neglect
But that’s something you’ll never see
When you don’t ever look at me

I might not be broken enough for him
He seems to respond to sob stories
He wants to ride in on low expectations
Held by women who
Don’t know how to choose men
Here he comes
Gentle and kind
To blow their otherwise beaten mind
Give a little confidence
Spring in the step
And he’s on to the next
Telling himself he’s such a gent

Forgetting
Trying to
Anyway
Gonna take a thousand days
From the next beautiful thing you do
So
What that means
Is
On top of all your other talents
You are unforgettable, too
There ain’t no how no way
I’m gonna be forgetting you

My muse keeps taking off on me
Now I’m writing bipolar poetry
When he’s around, it’s flowy and free
But when he’s gone
It’s stuff I don’t like to see
So I need a new muse
But how does one get one at will?
Is there some sort of muse application
To find a replacement
Or do I need to wait for a cosmic event?
Are muses found
Or are they Heaven sent?
I surely know they can be lost
No idea where mine went
Please apply for the job of muse
If you’re also perfect and smart
Clever and romantic
Full of grit, and also heart
And can speak right to my soul
You might be the person to fill this role

I dreamed that I could fly
I felt so free
YAY!  Yippi Kai!  
And somewhere in my brain
I said
“I can’t be flying.  I must be dreaming or dead.”  
And then, I started to lose altitude
I could no longer soar
Slowly descended to the ground
And I could fly no more
Apparently, my dreams are pretty rude
And I wanted to have an attitude
Till to myself, I said
“Girl you big dummy fool.
Be happy you’re not dead.”

He’s got walls and moats
Filled with crocodiles
Looking for human root beer floats
He’s got the title of GOAT
Unassumingly
He’s got shiny things
Metal, mineral,
Heavy commodity
Spacious homes for his whole family
Choice of beauties bevericiously
Smart ones, too, atypically
But all that fluff, and stuff
And superlative ****
Isn’t as priceless as me
Which he also has
Abundantly

Always I speak into the void
Sometimes it answers
Always a surprise
Sometimes it’s mean
Sometimes it’s nice

The signs were there
Chipping paint
Hard to read
Then they became
Persistant
Hard to ignore
And now they're trumpets
Blaring at your ears
But still so hard to see

Your biggest gripe with the world
Is that you’re not permitted
To walk your dog on the beach
And yet
There you are
Griping

When I say it in the written word
I feel like I am being heard
Maybe not immediately
But at some point in history
The right one will listen to me
And the right time
It will be
For he or she
To hear whatever words from me
And apply them to the life of thee
This is probably
The entire point of poetry
At least, for me

I have no follow through
When it comes to denying myself of you
And vice versa, too
The desire to share
Myself
To you
More compulsion
If I’m being true
Not sure what a girl can do
Once she’s become an addict of you
In my veins and bloodstream
My waking thoughts and sleeping dreams
I am exactly as I seem
Hopelessly bound
Pitifully desperate broken wing moth
Open wound
Bleeding on your porch
Who needs a mess like that?  
Nobody but you
If you do
What you got
Inside of you?

I tell my truth to deaf ears
And this I knowingly do
Often
It’s true
Dear ears and deaf ears
Both need to hear
Truth
It’s always of some use
Truth is still truth
Even if it’s mute

We weren’t the type to share flowery
Feelings
He was a **** knucklehead
And he had his own opinions of me
I know I drove that man pretty crazy
Our language of love was spoken
High decibelly
Rattling the walls
Our whole family
But that doesn’t mean
The love wasn’t there
We just liked to express it
Very loudly

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

Moving away isn’t easy
I knew it wouldn’t be
Sometimes I like to pretend
You are missing me
Not enough, though
You’re much harder than I am
To let go

Your tendency to overshare
You call “keeping it real,”
But there’s plenty we don’t need to know
Like how on your bio
You mention your fetish for cold steel
Between your **** cheeks
And call yourself a gun freak
Which in your case
Is just another way
Of calling yourself a ****** geek

It’s a mission
To show you who I am
***** it out here for you to see
Which has to mean everybody
I think I’ve got likability
But I just happen to like me
I don’t know what you see
Brash, brazen, unapologetic me
For who I be
And what I want
And what kind of beautiful picture I see
In a future of you and me
If we get friendly

Tolerance
Doesn’t speak loud enough
It doesn’t defend itself
It simply exists
Quietly

Happy poetry
Cannot be
What you don’t wanna see

Your soul is old
But your problems are young
It's a dichotomy
The part of the journey
With the fork in the road
That hits right between
The young and the old
You stare down the problem
Quizzicaly
And the best you can do is say
"Ahhh!  **** me!"

I want to shake your spirit
I want to rattle your demons
I want to get you caught out in the rain
I want to pinch your scars
So you can feel how numb they are
I want to bring your growing pains
And massage them out again
I want to be the storm before the calm
I want to set off every alarm
I want to make you want to run away
I want to be what makes you choose to stay
I want you anyway
Any **** way

Completely deleted
Fully retreated
Like it was never there
No image of you to haunt me
Nothing for me to care
I'll be gone just as easy for you
The easiest breakup we'll ever do
I suppose it's something
To appreciate
You went out as quick as you came
It was fate

They say “follow your dreams”
But for how long?
Before there’s a path until after it’s gone?
What do I do
When unfortunately
My dreams have no interest
In being pursued by me?

It is poetic that “eyes” and “skies” rhyme
**** and luck
Love and glove
**** and slick
(Sick, too, but only if you’re not safe)
Sneeze and breeze
Please and knees
This can only mean
Words want to be in a poem

I don’t want to get all dramatic
And call it an ache
But it’s not not an ache
Either
I don’t think you feel it
With me in your mind
But I might be in your soul
We’re not not soulmates
Maybe one day we will be not soulmates
But we will be good friends
Then

It was a waste
Adding in simply to agree
When anybody
Who disagreed
Would believably be
Claiming insanity
But I put two cents in
Seems too petty small
I wonder if the millions of two cents
Even add up
At all

I have to force myself to see
If now you are not ready for me
You’re never going to be

Anyone can find someone
When just anyone will do
But for some of us
There’s just one of us
Who can complete the one
To two
And for me
That one of us
Is you