Once upon a time
I waited for you
Anticipation
For when you’d come through
Sometimes often
Often sometimes
No way to predict
Waiting for unreliability
Gets old really quickly
Now, I hardly notice
But sometimes I still check to see
I am past it,
Mostly

You’ve got this idea
Closure
Stuck in your mind
And you feel like it’s owed
Your demand
For clarity
Is really just a way
To ignore what you can clearly see

I don’t wanna know where we’re going
Planning is for the prepared
For you
I am ready
But not prepared

Yelling out to the void
Even the crickets are paying attention to
Something else
Especially the crickets
Yet here I am
Paying attention to them

I think
Maybe
You're the man of my dreams
After a long night of drinking
You are the perfect guy
When I'm not capable
Of thinking

Sometimes I pretend you're speaking to me
Even though
I know
That can't possibly be
I imagine you're feeling my absence
And yearning for my soul
In my mind
We are twin flames
But only one of us knows

I want to be his medicine
I want to heal his soul
I want to bring him peace
Like he has never known
I want to bring him chaos, too
I want to bring it all
Give him pain and comfort
With my wild call
He sits on perches
Preening, playing,
Perfect to view
He wants for nothing
So what’s a hen to do?
He does not sing or caw or call
He thinks he’s already said it all
And frankly he could stay silent
And still be worth the time
Quiet bird
He may be free
When his cage is only imaginary

This is the time of the
Cleansing
Where audacity
And hypocrisy
Comes to the light
Though many will stay in the dark
Insisting that they are right
They will be the *****
Among the clean
Convinced their filth
Is pure and pristine

I stated my peace
Which brought only conflict

Were you expecting a chase scene?
Where I run after you
To continue
This useless encounter
Or whatever it was
Too many minutes
Passed off as love
I prefer for you to disappear
Do your thing
But please not here

Dear future Valentine
I am waiting
Celibately
Until you come for me

Boy!  
Why haven’t you written me a poem yet?!
I’ve come out with like three
For you
I know you must
Got something for me
Otherwise I’m writing
The wrong poetry
You don’t have to name me
Amour
I’ll know who you wrote it for

He's drinking too much
At 80 years old
Trying to dull whatever it is
That has settled into his soul
He wants to forget
All of the dirt
He has pushed under his rugs
And all of his drinking
Got me to thinking
That old man should get better drugs

People come here
With souls laid bare
A part of each shared
How can it be
This place is so drama-free
When everywhere else
Is as fake as can be?

So many love songs shared
Sweet feelings all the way through
But now
What do I do
Should I share the breakup songs too?  
Nope
He will hear no more of my feelings
Read no more of my poems
Over means finished and gone
So he ain’t gonna get anymore songs

Windy days
Mother Nature blowing the dust away
If you learn to let go
Of unwanted parts in your soul
You can blow it away on the wind
It is a “witchy” thing to do
And maybe it is magic,
But wind is magic, too
It is possible to blow away
Dusty parts of yourself
Psyche
Being
That need to go
If you know
There is such a thing
As Magic wind

Your such an angle to me
You’re goodness their for all to sea
Your the best person I no
So I must tell yew sew

Gypsy rebel
Never level
****!
And then, she’s gone
Yet still remains
Her spirit
In almost every song

Your familiarity
Is an illusion to me
I know this
Yet continue to pretend I see
Commonality
But maybe it’s a reality
This thing between you and me
Palpable on my side
Through distance
Space
And silly dreams
I wish you could see
Me
But as it be
I suffer from invisibility
And it’s likely
To be so
Perpetually
But that doesn’t mean
I won’t write you poetry
Which will remain
Eternally
Whether or not
You ever see

The internet is broken
Surely
Otherwise he would have been
Paying attention to me
It cannot possibly be
That he just doesn’t care to see
So obviously
The internet is broken
Only for me

Take me through
Your ritual
Til I am glazed in sweat
You ask me if I’ve had enough
I say,
“No sir, not yet.”

Anger is a common occurrence when you’re dating a *****

This is me
Resisting the urge
To say
"I told you so"
To your face

I want to lay you down on thick grass
In a meadow surrounded by forest
To look upon the quiet reflected in your face
Where is all that drama?
Gone without a trace.
Clothes become gone, too
And I just sit in awe of naked, beautiful you
We sun in silence
‘Cept the birds
Collecting all our unsaid words
Singing them back in bird language
Is this Heaven? Can I be dead?
Time seems to be kind
Lazy passing by
So comfortable between us
We don’t even have to try

What is it that holds you back?
Mistrust?
Probably.
Not sure if your doubt
Is placed in you or me
Truth be told
I’m not ready
So maybe the thing
Holding you back
Might be me

I planted a lot of seeds
In this here
Outkast orchard
Watered them
Too
Hopefully
The fruit will be
Eaten by you

The beauty in his rejection
Isn’t too hard to see
I’ve created all this poetry
He and I
Not meant to be
But this remains
My testimony
I cannot have him
Like I wish it would be
But still, I approach him
Thankfully

He bangs
To the beat
Of the non conformed
Unabashedly
Off kilter
Wobbly
Left or right  
He turns the middle of a sunny day
Deep into a night
I want to share some of his journey
Company along the way
In and out
We come about
Then out
And around again

I’m not sorry about the things I said
Yet
But I will be
And that’s the closest you might ever get
To an apology

You’re the one
But maybe it’s time for me to move on
Silence from you
What’s a girl to do?  
Set my sights on the two

I feel like I can’t truly call myself a poet
If I haven’t used the word “petrichor”
In a poem before
So here it is
My official entry
Into the poetry “industry”

Harmlessly weird is either fun or
Frustrating
Depending upon whether it’s
Real
Or just
An act

You asked a question
But it wasn’t really a question
It was a trick
You had the answer, already
And you only asked me
To make sure I agree
Or to see if maybe
I’d sell out, and simply
Pretend I could be
What you want from me
Boy did you see

Ironic
The ones that trend
Never feel like
The best I’ve penned
Maybe mediocrity
Is what makes things
So trendy

There is no such thing as a path that leads to nowhere
Maybe it didn’t get you
Where you wanted to go
But you’re still somewhere else
Than where you started
And along the way
You grow

He has blocked me
Probably permanently
I deserved it, too
The awkward part is
I keep talking to him
And it will continually be
Something he never knew

He is not
Unaware
I am not
Impatient
I hoped for immediacy
But didn’t rely on silly dreams
For it to turn out to be
Working at it
Demonstrating myself worthy
If he would have seen
And felt the need
Too quickly
It wouldn’t have been right
It should take the effort
Of many nights
To make something so right
He is not unaware of me
But he’s unaware of who I really be
He’d be a fool to believe what he sees
Quickly
Through invisible words
And deeds
I am not impatient

I have no walls
I am an open field as far as you can see
I refuse to blueprint my soul
By past wins and losses
I have no walls
But a strong reflex to flee
As soon as I dislike something I see

“I wish I would’ve wrote this”
A commonplace feeling for a poet
Though just as easy it be
“I wish someone wrote that
About me.”

I don't breathe for you
My heart beats for myself
But my brain takes you in
Like oxygen
Clean and fresh
In a breeze
Oxygen wind
For my brain
Thank you
Very
Please

He conquered her mind
It was the friendliest invasion
In the history of mankind
Chemical warfare
With the natural drugs
Kindness, patience, and love
Intoxication
Via kisses and hugs

The rebellion at the chicken farm
Started with Harley Hen
When she noticed any bird that left
Never returned again
Plus
The **** covering the floor
Air all choked with funk
Out there
Harley imagined
There must be no gunk
Farmer Dave came through
And before he closed the door
The chickens were all upon him
Ready to settle the score
Pecking, clawing, cackling such
Farmer Dave has lost his touch
Covering his eyes and head
Farmer Dave
Posed no threat
Chickens out into fresh air
Running round from here to there
Every direction
All over town
Farmer Dave's chickens
Bullying everyone around
Then the humans
Formed their battle plan
Rounding up chickens
And frying pans
All those uppity chickens
Will surely boil
They'll become stew for sure
But every chicken just
Disappeared
Seen again never more
Of course, this started rumors
Of the spooky
Scary town
In which the local chickens
Ran the humans down

You're the usual compliment guy
Telling women how beautiful they are
And how much better you would treat them than their boyfriend
Who you keep insulting
You are like the ***
Picking through bones at the junkyard
Searching for a part you can use
With no care factor about the
Wreckage you rip it from
But at least you found that usable part
And now you convince yourself that
The car is better off without it
And aren't you so great
You scrapped that girl for junk parts
And blamed it all on her ex mate
Junkyard jockeys, like you
Always come in late

Well, I see  ‘em every night in tight blue jeans
In the pages of a blue boy magazine
Hey, I’ve been thinking of a new sensation
I’m picking up good vibrations
Oop, she bop, she bop
Do I wanna go out with a lion’s roar
Yeah, I wanna go south and get me some more
They say that a stitch in time saves nine
They say I better stop, or I’ll go blind
Oop, she bop, she bop
She bop, he bop we bop
I bop, you bop, they bop
Be bop, be ba, a loo bop
(I hope he will understand)
Hey, hey, they say I better get a chaperone
Because I can’t stop messing with the danger zone
I won’t worry and I won’t fret
Ain’t no law against it yet.

He does not want my attention
Avoids it, actually
He don’t come around no more
So he doesn’t have to see
Me
I must completely remove myself
To set that man free
Beautiful human being
I am gone from thee
You are free

Breathing life
Into someone already living well
Is probably impossi-bell
And now
I sit here
Pondering
The intricacies
Of turning impossibilities
Into likelees
But if I can turn
Likelees
Into a word
You needing fresh air
Might not be absurd

Sunny days when the breeze is kind
Gifts
We get used to
And sometimes forget to say
Thank you

What you see
Is only me
Standing here, singularly
Invisible to the naked eye
My ancestral team
Riding hard and riding high
The dirt you do may get past me
But I promise you, Boo
They will see

Lots of bruises
Cuts and scrapes
Pound of flesh
Life will take
Healing anyway
Just to spit in trouble’s face

Slowly she dances away
But she’ll sway back
Any song
Any day
He says