I can’t let go of what I never had
Except an illusion
Goodbye mirage of what it could be
I displayed to you the true me
And you glanced, maybe
Occasionally
But pretended you couldn’t see
I’m done displaying
But I am not yet free

It was something that was meant to be
You being you, and I being me
Supposed to be temporary
But lingering
Relentlessly

I wonder what the neighbors think
Of our
Sidewalk chalk outlines of the kids
Each kid likes to get done twice
Four little bodies outlined on the pavement
What a sight!
Do they feel they’ve encountered a
Grisly crime scene?
Probably not
Considering
The sidewalk chalk tracing is a weekly thing

My grandson
Likes his *****
A LOT
He is only three
If I hadn’t raised a lot of boys
This would be alarming to me
As understandable
As it may be
To like ones *****
One must take their hand out of their pants
While walking down the street
He hasn’t figured it out yet
How creepy it does seem
Walking around with your hand in your pants
For everyone to see
It’s not like I can wean him off it
It appears to be glued on
So please ignore this little
Three year old
Walking around town
With his hands down
In his Underground

This is the little bug
Named Krista
🐜
She’s pretty easy to ignore
She’s caught in a sea of billions of bugs
More now, than ever before
And sometimes she almost gets squashed
Under the heel of a boot
But ****, that little sucker
Sure does know to scoot
Blink and you miss her
That little bug
Self-preservation is her goal
She’d be so much better off
With more armor and less soul

Been a whole lot easier since the ***** left town
Been a whole lot happier without that face around
Nobody upstairs gonna stomp and shout
Nobody out the back door gonna throw my laundry out
She holds the shotgun while you dote-se-doe
She want one man made of Hercules and Cyrano
Been a whole lot easier since the ***** is gone
Little miss, Little miss, Little miss can't be wrong

Little miss, Little miss, Little miss can't be wrong
Ain't nobody gonna bow no more when you sound your gong
Little miss, Little miss, Little miss can't be wrong
Whatcha go 'n' do to get into another one of these here rock 'n' roll songs?

Other people's thoughts they ain't your hand-me-downs
Would it be so bad to simply turn around?
You cook so well, all nice and French
You do your brain surgery too mama with yer monkey wrench

Little miss, Little miss, Little miss can't be wrong
Ain't nobody gonna bow no more when you sound your gong
Little miss, Little miss, Little miss can't be wrong
What'd ya go 'n' do to get into another one of these here rock 'n' roll songs?

I hope them cigarettes are gonna make you cough
Hope you hear this song and it ****** you off
I take that back I hope you're doing fine
And if I had a dollar I might give you ninety-nine.

Little miss, Little miss, Little miss can't be wrong
Ain't nobody gonna bow no more when you sound your gong
Little miss, Little miss, Little miss can't be wrong
What'd ya go 'n' do to get into another one of these here rock 'n' roll songs?

You are the ice and the tea
You’re the light when it’s too dark to see
You’re the journey and the destiny
You’re the missing part of me
You’re the carrots in my peas
You’re the laughter and the glee
You are the fight and the agree
You are the fervent, woeful plea
You are the only bullseye I see
You are the royal decree
You are for what my heart will bleed
You are the nest at the top of the tree
You are the coffee and the cream
You are the best show on TV
You are the waking and the dream
You are the luxurious shopping spree
You are the best player on any team
You are the yellow in the green
You are the sunrise over the sea
You’re the treasure that’s eluded me
You hold the lock and the key
Until you open the gate
I’ll never be free

I’ve noticed I talk about lollipops a lot
In my poetry
Mostly when I’m talking about a man who is special to me
For some reason
I can’t figure out
It must be his sweetness that reminds me about
Those tasty delights, sticky and wet
He reminds me of a lollipop
But I haven’t figured out why, yet

Does the lighthouse ever get resentful
Stuck there out on that rock
Watching all those lucky ships
Explore?
Does the lighthouse ever wish to sleep at night?
Does it look at other houses
From it’s isolated point
And see neighborhoods
Close houses, socializing
Christmas trees
House communities
Is this something the lonely lighthouse sees?

What of all the poems I pen
Nobody cares to read?  
Dropped by me on airwaves
In the hopes to plant a seed


Abandoned to the mass


Do they matter less?  
Whether poems get lonely
Is anybody’s guess

You could disappear today
A part of you will always stay
In the poems that you inspired
Nothing further is required
For longevity
Pretty feelings
Set in stone
Stay there even when you’re gone

Sometimes it’s almost subconscious
My attention goes to you first
I pretend I don’t notice
The warm in my skin
Over anything you’re in
I think you try to impress me
Or maybe somebody like me
I can tell what you’re looking for
And it’s something I think I might already be

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 want to tell you what you should do
Let you know what’s best for you
And who
Is best for you, too
But it would defeat the purpose
Of pure love
To insist I’m the one you can’t resist
When clearly you barely notice
I want to tell you it’s your loss
But you seem to be just fine
Not noticing I’m alive
But

It really is your loss

I touch him
Occasionally
Some miracle way
Without ever being there
I feel it in the air
When I bring
Something to him
Invisibly
And magically
He can nonchalant
All he wants
I make him smile
Lotsa whiles
Under the radar
He sees
With me
Strangers in a crowd
Someday maybe
He will see out loud

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 ignored feel resentment
When you get attention
A catch-22 of life
When you receive love
So comes the hate
To tarnish your good times
With strife

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

I wish to be the water that meanders down his chest and into his *****
I wish to be the oil in his bones
Deep in the grooves
Part of the system’s sustain
I wish to be the fire
That makes him laugh in the rain
Massage out his aches and pain
I think he thinks I overestimate him
But I think just as much of myself
And I know I’m not overestimating myself
He is lucky
Because of me
Whether or not it be
Something he ever sees

I wonder where you go when you’re gone
I hope it’s somewhere you want to be
But that thought is so silly for me
You’re not the type to be wasting your
Precious time
Doing something begrudgingly
Wherever you go  
The people around you are very lucky

It’s what I don’t focus on
I got my dark thoughts too
Evil, twisted
Childhood traumas
I somehow fetishize
When I focus on that side
But my brain gives me a choice
I get to hear the other voice
All the joys stay with me too
I get the yellow with the blue
Maybe it’s luck, maybe it’s skill
The ability not to dwell

There was a time I tried to impress you
Now that time has gone
Approval that I once so craved
Feels like a heavy stone
I used to carry it around
Trying to make it look easy
Now I've left it on the shore
And I'm enjoying the sea
And the breezy
Hope somebody picks it up
And carries you inside
But either way, don't fret
You're too much of a stick in the mud
To get swept away with the tide

You came here first
Or at least more than once
Losing my confidence
But I still know you came here
At least once

The version of me
Tethered to you
Is artistic and funny
And hopeful, too
Something more and better
Than myself alone
Sort of almost going home
You bring out the magic in me
Bibbity boop and alicka zee
Your mojo and my magic
There’s no limit to what that could be

I want to scare you
Intimidated by an unknown feeling
I want to rock your entire world
Upon introduction
I want an irresistible
Magic connection
I want to meet you someday
Hopefully soon
And suddenly I will see in you
Whoever you are
Duel
Magic spark
Into one
I hope when it happens to me
That’s the way it will be

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

I want to take you there
Trees and bee hives
Lakes and frogs
And even one ******
Circle in the woods
Campfire in the ground
Thin streets of colonial towns
Five inch panes of glass
Mosaic for windows
Creaky pewed churches
Groaning under the weight of
Thousands of prayers
Streams
The peeking rock
Just above the water line
Bubbles past
Rock remains
Birds land
Thankful for a spot
In the middle of the action
Tiny fish collect in the shadow
Hiding from the sun
And everything
Lowest on the food chain
Beneath the rock
Safe remain
Highest on the chain
Above the rock
Sit on top
Eating picnic lunch
Jumping off
The rock is the make out spot
Plenty in town will confess
The rock was the spot of their first kiss

Do you hear the footsteps pounding
Through the shopping malls?
Those stomping people should have more respect
For the sanctity of
Our new hallowed halls
Worship of things
And the cheap fast food courts
Teens milling about
In their daisy duke shorts
And nana sits and wonders why
Grampa always has something to buy

She’ll only come out at night
The lean and hungry type
Nothing is new
I’ve seen her here before
Watching and waiting
She’s sitting with you
But her eyes are on the door
So many have paid to see
What you think
You’re getting for free
The woman is wild
A she-cat tamed
By the purr of a jaguar
If you’re in it for love
You ain’t gonna get too far

I see you suffering
Behind the mask
Of smiles
That never reach your eyes
I’ve met your kind before
You would rather pretend to ignore
I do not push
I pretend too
I hope that is the best thing
To do for you

T shirt
To
Winter coat
In the course of just one day
You must be in Massachusetts
We get down that way

I hope to fall head over heels
It seems so unlikely
To find a fit perfectly
But that’s what he would have to be
They say there’s a match for everybody
But it’s not a guarantee we’ll meet
If we do, I’ll be ready
And to be my match
So will he

I’m feeling calm, but I’m never relaxed
I feel it coming, but I’m holding it back
I’m off the edge, but I never attack
I’m straight off the moment, but I still come back like that
I’m a strong man, weaker than I once was
**** and bramble, still hard to handle
I can hold my own if you need me
I’m standing here, can you see me?
Sometimes I’m standing where I wanna be
Sometimes I hate you, but you feel so nice
I know you think I’m gone
But I’m all in, don’t get me wrong
Sometimes I know I’m gonna lose it
I’m all caught up. I’m faking
….

The one I still  think about
The one I loved the most
Was the one who challenged me
And that's why we can't be together
He still has songs on my
Playlist Though

Endings aren’t happy at first
But after you’ve been through
What feels like the worst
Dark nights
And dark days, too
The sun will rise
And shine on you
The road had turned
Into a path
Smaller and smaller
Scooting on your ***
Covered in brambles
The plan is in shambles
And your flip broke away
From it’s flop
In bare feet you plod and trop
Still, you’re not gonna stop
Past the ending
Toward the new start
And this is the journey
With matters of the heart

Maturity is when you finally realize
Boredom is a privilege

The hinges upon which a maybe swings
Potential for any things
Sometimes, if one is really
Desperately
Holding onto  what they want to see  
An unsaid no
Can almost be
A maybe
To someone who refuses to agree  
What obviously
Never will be

Whispers of a dream
Turn into silent screams
Still, somehow heard
Maybe

Maybe I’m intimidating
With all that brazen speculating
On what I see in he and me
And what I think we could be
Maybe I am just annoying
And altogether too adoring
Who knows what the reason be
That he is so thoroughly
Uninterested in me

It would take acknowledgment
Whether it came
Or whether it went
Something sure must be sent
But not yet
Maybe
Never

Beautiful muse
What I do to you
Permissionlessly
I bend you and shape you
To the will of me
According to who
I imagine you’d be
I wonder what you think
Of what I think I see
Maybe someday
You will tell me

What could it be
Slowly, slowly
Too slow
Maybe
Who knows
How it’s s’posed to be?
Not you
And definitely
Not me
Maybe we

Maybe I’ll run out
One day
Spent of words
No more
Poetry
Left in me
There’d probably be no more
Me left in me
Either

Do the old starlets
Envy Sharon Tate?

You want to know
If you hurt my soul
If I sit and pine for you
Not sure why you're asking
Or why you care
Cuz I know you don't pine for me too
At least not in a normal way
Where you miss and long and wish to stay
You are such an attention queen
You want me to write you poetry
It seems to be
That you only like immortal me

I could get preachy
About cleaning out the trash
But it’s not my garbage
And nobody here is mess-free
Including me

There it was
The Word
Undeniably unpopular
But true
Sorry the burden to say it
Had to fall on you

Giving in is not giving up

With you
You carry the
Mighty Pen
Live a thousand lives
Within the Mighty Pen
Obscurity to mainstream
Back around again
Magic in perpetuity
Within the Mighty Pen

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”