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 don't expect an apology
In fact
You probably think you're
Owed one from me
You like to twist reality
And I think you might be
Maybe crazy

He is my muse
Rarely on time
Though always with the right line
He will never be mine
But these poems live forever
As part of me
Which is probably more
Than most lovers
Have in store
And ever will be

I wonder if he would notice my absence
Whether by something
Inexplicable missing
Or
Would he recognize
What’s missing was me
Would he come looking
Or would he feel free?
I don’t have the will to test my theory
But I believe he would feel
The absence of me

I’m not your one
It is, and has been clear and plain
To see
Everyone else probably saw it
Except me
It took me so long
To let go of a distorted dream
I’m not the one for you
So obviously
You’re not the one for me

He is the type of man who responds to demands
And I am the girl who hates to be demanding
The problem with him:
Disappearance often
Which he is entitled to do
I am not writing this for me
I am writing this for him
I hope he sees
I feel like it will bring him growth
Knowing what I think I know
I want to give him a glimpse from
An outside point of view
But it’s taking the rhyme out of this poem
No matter how much the words sound alike
Because it’s a love letter too
And sometimes love has no reason or rhyme
But I have to admit to myself
He and I
Might not be a good match
In love
However the friendship will stay sure and strong
My whole life long

If one repeatedly attempts Plan A
Ineffectively
Does it
At some point
Ever become Plan B?  
Or even Plan Z?
How many times
Can an attempt bomb
Before the planner accepts
She was wrong all along?
Time invested
Ego too
All sorts of excuses
She went through
Bargaining, flirting, and pleading too
She tried everything she could possibly do
Still, that girl just came up short
Even after she put in so much work
It was destined to fail from the start
Anyway
Maybe she will accept that one day

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

It is what it is
It ain’t what it can’t be
If you don’t like reality
Blame yourself
Not me

Addictions are accidental
Nobody sets off
To be an addict
We all know it ends badly
And yet
So many of us start
Foolishly
Maybe addictions
Can’t possibly be
Accidental
You’ve gotta work at getting addicted
And pay at it, too
I’ve never seen an addict
Who didn’t know what they were
Getting into

I cannot follow you
When you go dark
Maybe I can’t go there at all
But I think it’s just  
I can’t go there with you
Maybe that’s what you are
Dark
And I happened to see a light
Or two
Or three
I think it’s cool you can go dark
It’s my short coming
That I am unable to see

How long does one have to boycott
The one they can’t stay away from?  
Is there some magic time limit
That will make him notice I’m gone?  
Or even that I was ever there?  
I had to try something different
To get somewhere
Out or in
Attention either way
Boot me out on my ***
Or tell me you want me to stay
His apathy
Painful to me
I suppose it’s really the boot
But I refuse to see his kicking foot
And knowing it’s happening does no good
I justify, give him excuses
And write all these poems
With the boos and the hooses
And hope at some point he chooses
To see me
And give me a shot
Or set me free
He’s not the only somebody
On this entire Earth for me
I know this, rationally
But he’s the only one I see
So I write him poetry
Which I no longer share with he
My art is inconsequential to him
Aching to me
I can’t seem to win
Unfortunately

Sometimes the **** hitting the fan
Comes in disguise as a bath in champagne
Long awaited acid rain
That immediately quenches your thirst
Blessings and cursings come in disguise
To tired, hopeful, thirsty eyes

When I am near you
I am lonely in a crowd
Complaining is not allowed
An insult, to you
When I’m not happy
Your esteem is attached
To my mentality
And this is how it came to be
That you only know
The pretend me

I am here in front of a bunch of poets
About to say something they may find absurd
I want to say to those who communicate this way
Actions speak louder than words
Wooing through verse
So romantic, at first
But it’s really just empty words
As much as I’d like to believe them
What I see is more real than anything I’ve ever heard

It’s not easy to admit
When we’ve gotten too into it
Addiction
Whether it be drugs, a person, or anything
The temptation is too strong
Keep us chasing it all day long
Bend our lives around it’s demands
Become a mere shell of a man
Eat us from the inside out
Crave it, love it, chase it about
Obsession drives our every move
Skipping record
Defective grooves
Steals sleep, money, ruins mood
All the damage it can do
Life will make you play the fool
And the addict doesn’t even have to be you

It's not about numbers
Though it's nice when it adds up
But about sharing
Whatever it is that might move you
For good or ill
And perhaps it be
Poetry
Art of the mostly misunderstood
Which is ironic
Since it's laid so bare upon the artist
Which is probably why it's so
Alien to those who keep fully dressed
They probably don't look at their own
Self
Naked
Naturally
They will find poetry either
Fascinating  or
Repulsive
It's mostly about adding something
To the collective
And being proud of it
Going back on it
To the place in your mind when you
Wrote it
From a different place
Hopefully resolved
Others may see it from whatever place They are
And some can relate
And put words to their feelings
Others can understand
It's not about numbers
But it is about addition

There is no
“I really wanted it”
Alibi
Usually delivered
After numerous lies
Desire does not justify
Selfishness, theft, or lies
Some seem to have the
Misguided idea
They couldn’t possibly deny
Themselves the thing they wanted
Or else they’d surely die
Their needs, however
Unnecessary
Twisted in their mind
Become water in the desert
A nap after ten sleepless nights
The mind plays tricks to justify
Accompanying sins
And injured parties
Demonized
Left blowing in the wind
Tricks the mind plays on itself
To avoid admitting sin

I’m seeking the staying power.
I’ve got blips of success
Short-lived
But celebrated
Nonetheless
Maybe it’s thousands
Maybe it’s one
I hope something stays
After I’m done

Come to me
Through miles and mountains
And so much blue
We touch with our minds
Me and you

One time
Me and an ex boyfriend
Were having *** out in nature
On a hill
And we started towards the top
And by the time we were finished
We realized, to our surprise
We were at the bottom
With no concept of having
Slid down
Or spatial understanding
Of position
Just one long line of crushed down grass
That was great ***

The other day
I realized
All my teenage crushes
Now have wrinkles
But I've yet to realize
I have wrinkles too

I read the five minute poem
In two minutes
Flat
Not sure what to take from that
Maybe I missed something
Over again
This is how a five minute poem
Turns into ten

We don’t talk
About the sweet spot
But we know that it is there
Hit occasionally
Like an ****** through the air
He need put in no effort to ring my bell
It’s just a matter of being himself

Mister
Ain’t you gonna change those clothes?
It’s a sorta cute outfit
I suppose
But pretty soon
That whole ensemble
Is gonna get up and walk on its own

It is agony to me
To be invisible to you
While you, I clearly see
I know how good it could be
While you seem to wander endlessly
I know what you’re looking for
I feel it down into every pore
I’m powerless to change the score
I have no tools to help me cope
All I can do is wish and hope
To somehow catch your faraway eye
I surely give a hearty try
But you’re a really busy guy
And I’m a nickel a dozen
Doting girl
So many surround you
I suppose it’s enough to admire you from afar
It seems to be all I can do

I promise you will not regret me

Boy, the way Glenn Miller played
songs that made the hit parade
Guys like me we had it made
Those were the days
Didn't need no welfare state
ev'rybody pulled his weight
gee our old LaSalle ran great
Those were the days
And you knew who you were then
girls were girls and men were men
Mister we could use a man like Herbert Hoover again
People seemed to be content
fifty dollars paid the rent
freaks were in a circus tent
Those were the days
Take a little Sunday spin
go to watch the Dodgers win
Have yourself a dandy day
that cost you under a fin
Hair was short and skirts were long
Kate Smith really sold a song
I don't know just what went wrong
those were the days

One day
Maybe
It will be forgotten
I hope
You take for granted
You never figure
One day it won't

The stage
The front row
Every seat
The wings
All things
Right on to the back
Balconies
Even restrooms
And behind the snack stand
Are all in the same theater
Hearing the same band

We take each other almost there
You’ll read this and go
Meh
Almost a waste of time
If there is such a thing
Depending upon
Investment
And whether getting to
Almost there
Is a pleasant distraction
Or a sidetrack
Maybe the two are the same thing
Or maybe almost there
Is as close as anybody gets

Too good to be true
It seemed to be you
For a minute or two

Human part in there
Somewhere
Your ego so fragile
You find it a fault
Being fragile
Fragility is the human condition
We all break
Some of us
Find people to fix
One of the few ways
To heal from a break
Some refuse to break  
Hold whole to a bitter end
The recovery rate from an almost break
Is much more grim

All is fine
Let’s pretend
Not much of a stretch
But still
Stretched
Someday maybe
Almost fine ends
But at the same time
Almost fine
Is better than
Not good

Do you feel the maybes, why nots and what ifs?  
Are you anywhere near catching my drift?
Maybe I see
From my skewed point of view
Almost something from you

He’s there,
Somewhere
The one for me
It is certainly true
Whoever he be
Is gonna be a lot like you

I threw everything I had at you
Over and over
Relentlessly too
Ringing and ringing
You answer no call
I was playing catch
While you played dodgeball
I could think of it as a downfall
But really, I’ve lost nothing at all
You’ve lost nothing too
So the game is a tie
I thought we could win
But that’s maybe a lie
I told myself so I could almost see
Some ridiculous fantasy
You and me
Not meant to be
And maybe someday
I’ll be willing to see
And I’ll become
Some
Obscure footnote in your history
Apparently
What it was always meant to be

Poetry
For me
Was getting to see
Your lies become known
And your prisoners free
Now you sit in the cage
You created in rage
To make someone else suffer
Your lies on the page
Have become your own cage
When you thought they would make you
Some sort of a sage

I wanna get that church boy
Raunchy and hott
Bring it to him
Like he never gott
He won’t feel it’s sinning
He’ll be too busy grinning
And he’ll certainly be
Thanking God

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

It’s not about you
Until you see yourself in it
Then it’s ALL about you
And also
Somebody else
Poetry never runs out of
All of itself
To give
In solitary
And so receives
The one it must be meant to be
Sometimes that someone is me

The first song on my playlist for you
Promise of a new day
Paula Abdul

I worry about you
Incapable as you are
Of soothing your storms
Into a fit in a second
Unable to get over it
For hours
Anger sends you out of control
Escalation is all you know
Everyone present a target
So everyone goes away
I don’t think that it’s likely
You’ll grow out of it one day

Anger
Built up
Toxic
Spreading unchecked
Fire inside
Each team
The rich are poor losers
Or so it would seem

Watching insanity permeate
Through society
Quicker than ever before possibly
We are at a tipping point
Maybe
But that’s probably
What they always say
Since they had speech
But I cannot help but believe
At this time, and this whole scene
We gotta take back who we really be
And say it with such fervency
There is NO MORE
Questionability
Of who America really be
Ya see?
These ***** are misrepresenting we
And I don’t know how to fix
Angry people
Scary

Can you truly hear my voice
And recognize it’s me
Regardless of the name you see?
Surely someone paying attention
Could pick me out from a crowd
Pretending out loud
Not to be me
I think
Eventually
Even the blind would see
Right through me

Dear hater
Stalking the front page
Downvoting every compliment
There must be a better outlet for your rage
Than an obsessed, anonymous
Wanna be sage
With terrible taste
Take a walk
Or something
You creep
I'd suggest you to get a pet
But you're clearly not ready to care for
Living things, yet

One day, maybe
You will come across
These poems of me
Many penned in thought of you
Fantasy poetry
To you
From me
That maybe one day you will see

Do you think we get all the answers in Heaven?  
Or does that only happen in Hell?

The ants have found a way around the Traps.  
And Mother Nature's
Infinite Way
Is put on hold
Ants have always been too bold