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

I am the harmless nutcase
Sweating over you
Almost obsessively
To a high degree
Which really means
A LOT     AND MORE
But you’re the one I’m doing it for
It’s a mind game on me
And maybe on you
Potentially
And knowing this
It’s something I still do
It is exploitation
Really
To use you permisionlessly
I’ve said this before
And continue
Knowingly
Exploiting you
To the benefit of me
Uncredited inspiration
I plagiarize your spirit
Using it
Pretending I know it
Taking liberties
Telling myself some ******* story
You would feel flattered by me
Justification factory
But I’m not hurting anybody
And if anyone asked
I’d credit thee
The perfect muse for a nutcase like 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

I don't remember what I saw in you
By now
You are a blip
But a high one
Short and sweet
Then miserable
Then gone
For good
And it is better
Because the highest high
With you
Is not the highest I can go
At any time
With anyone
On a good day
You will probably feel
The same,
Or at least, that's what you'll say

I don’t take it personally
That you are not ready for me
But I wish I knew
What you see between us
In a year or two

I'll write another poem for you
Really, that's all I can do
You are far, too far away
And that is where you're gonna stay
Maybe we will meet someday
If things go perfectly my way
But until that day
I'll still have my say
Though you won't hear it, anyway

I wish I could be impressed
And maybe I should be
You obviously tried way too hard
And I can tell you did it for me
But how can I possibly ignore
That you tried too hard
So inadequately?

It’s still a part of the story
No matter how far apart
It be
Whether or not you read

He’s not a star
He’s a constellation
Cluster of brights
Far
Far                                                     Away
Ever  elusive 👽
Yet
Shiny brilliant light
Prone to a shoot ☄️
Just as soon as one sees
Off goes one of Apollo’s feet
Ever so far away from me

I recognize the alchemy
Of the unseen
It exists independently
Connection clean
Or *****
Who knows
What it be
Nobody
Unless we see
Maybe it’s only me
Who needs to see
In which case I apologize
Profusely

Sometimes we forget
Approval is free
Among friends
We can expect
Acceptance
Freely
Among friends
If you feel uncomfortable
About who you are
You are not
Among friends
You’ve strayed too far

This is really false advertising
Even if it’s true
Even if it’s true
This is really false advertising

You keep wishing for all these common things
And acting like it’s rare
You wonder where all the nice guys are
When you’re only receptive to the loudmouth punks
Lamenting the lack of opportunity
While snubbing your nose at the ones
Available to you
Because you’re better than that
You’re better than that guy
You’re better than that job
You’re better than those friends
And that neighborhood
I’m beginning to suspect
You are so much better
Than your capacity for being any good

Sheer boredom
For a start
And where it go could be off
Uninspired offerings
Of what use can they be?
Spark may come
With the attempt
Art loves effort
“Try”
Art says
See what comes of it
“Caress me”
Art says
“Dance upon my canvas
Please”
Art begs
I give it my most fervent attempt
And maybe sometimes
I do it justice  
Art

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

What is it
That causes my mind
To occasionally wander
Towards you
After years of no contact?
What kind of magic
Was created in the collision of us
The cursed blessing
Temporary
Yet not

As far as you know
I’ve forgotten you
And pay no attention
To whatever you do
As far as you know
I’m in non-you bliss
Glad you are gone
But bliss don’t feel like this
As far as you know
I’m beyond moving on
But the truth is
That road to healing is long
As far as you know
You’re a nonentity
No part of my life
And you never will be
But as far as I know
I miss the good times
When you were sweet
And loving and fine
As far as I know
You are a disease
That I just cannot seem to cure
But one thing I know
I’ll never tell you I love you
Again
And of that, you can be sure

He sat back
And watched me burn
In his front row spot
All the time
Sipping his wine
Ignoring all the hot
The flames were so persistent
Consuming much my spirit
And though I screamed real loud
He pretended not to hear it
One day I will get my turn
With the one who will not let me burn

I pretend you wrote that poem for me
Though I know
It couldn’t be
But in my life
Maybe someday
I can inspire someone as special as you
To feel that way

I am an American poet
As of now
So very few know it
But when I am dead
My poems will be read
In halls of American schools
And when I am assigned
The kids won’t even mind
They will think my poems are so cool
And if this doesn’t happen
I’ll never know
So I’m a future famous poet
Because I believe it will be so

He is rain.  He is wet and bubbly and refreshing to my thirst
He knows who he is
When I talk about rain
He who is ocean died a few years ago
Unreliability and even dishonesty
That was how he who is ocean
Turned out to be
Another is earth
Fertile and full of life
Yet gritty with dirt
Ancient earth worshippers in his stock
I am still waiting to meet he who is rock

You want to be his savior
And thus you want him to
Fail
So you can swoosh in
With wind in your sail
And prove to him, with you he is blessed
But if it really were
There would be no need for the test
And you could win him at his best

My grandson is being attacked
From the inside out
Or maybe outside in
But that poor child
Has the itchiest skin
They call it eczema
And give him bunches of creams
But nothing really  works
Or so it seems
My daughter has searched far and wide
For relief for this poor child
She even wrapped up his whole body
In ace bandages filled with medicine
And kept him like that for the day
She also made use of oven mitts
Held on by duct tape
I wish I could find some miracle cure
For this poor child’s skin
But I am completely helpless to aid
In  attacks coming from within

What was it?
The last thing you said to me?
It doesn’t stick in my memory
I didn’t pay enough attention
Apparently
And isn’t that the crux
Of you and me?
If I heard you talking now
I would listen
Attentively

I fleet and flit
Habitually
My attention
Not much to speak
Yet you
You…
You captivate me

He walks so far away
Distance
Yesterday and today
Tomorrow
Maybe he will see
One would think that would be up to me
Make myself known, flail about
Jump up and down
Scream and shout
Amid the crowd
Millions of kitties
Pulling up shirts
And showing off *******
I got ******* too
But my brain is
So much more beautiful
Like most things that are hard to see
You gotta pay attention to notice the beauty

It cannot only be me
Who unfortunately
Thinks to myself
Bashedly
“If I were to go
Would they even know?
Stand in the doorway
And want to say
“You won’t see me from this day”
But it would be foolish show of despair
I’m not going anywhere

I want to whisper in your ear
As loudly and publicly
As a secret can possibly be
Open for everybody
Whispering audaciously

I come back here
To the written word
It brings me to clarity
That I can revisit
Frequently

Every night
He sits in his car for a full
Twenty minutes
Before going into his house

What would it be
If society
Suddenly
Stopped tolerating needless conflict
With a collective
MEH
To all those little
***** fuckas
Let the school bell be rang
On pinky punks
And their yang

I had so much to say in that poem that got away
As I went about my day
It came to me
Perfect and true
So many beautiful words
But what’s a poet to do
When out and about
Lots of stuff to do
And the poem disappears
Into the void of my mind
And only reveals tiny glimpses
Teasing me, teasing me “come here and find”
Lost creation, please be kind
Hop right on back into my mind

Hey, look me over
Tell me, do you like what you see?
Hey, I ain’t got no money
But honey, I’m rich on personality
Hey, check it all out
Baby, I know what it’s all about
Before the night is through
You will see my point of view
Even if I have to scream and shout
Oh baby, I’m a star
Might not know it now
Baby I’ll try harder
I don’t want to stop, til I reach the top
Hey, take a listen
Tell me do you like what you hear?
And if it don’t turn you on
Just say the word, and I’m gone
But honey, I know ain’t nothing wrong with your ears
Hey, check it all out
Better look now or it just might be too late
My luck’s gonna change tonight
There’s gotta be a better life
Take a picture, sweetie, I ain’t got time to waste

Into the void
Among the sea
Humans swimming
With the tide
Yet you and I follow the sun
Not the moon
I want to be a good witch
But it is that ball of fire that makes me
Swoon

I've been talking to the masked bandit
And I think he's the one who
Is having trouble handling it

You blame him for it all
Claim he ruined you
But you were already
Bent and broken
Before that guy came through
And since you been around
He got banged up
Too

Acceptance
The process of letting go
Giving up
Which sounds so discouraging
But many gifts it can bring
When I’m holding on to the wrong thing

I hope I never don’t want to go
Barefoot on grass
When the option is there
I hope I always choose to dance
Over sitting in a chair
I hope little kids always wear me out
And get me out of breath
I hope I live so **** hard
When I go
There’s nothing left

Internetly
There's nothing I cannot be
I can pretend I am rich
Or young, or anyone
But me
But that doesn't work
With poetry
It strips me bare
For all to see

Do you have the time to listen to me whine
About nothing and everything all at once?
I am one of those
Melodramatic fools
Neurotic to the bone
No doubt about it
Sometimes I give myself the creeps
Sometimes my mind plays tricks on me
It all keeps adding up
I think I'm cracking up
Am I just paranoid?
Or am I just ******?
I went to a shrink
To analyze my dreams
She says it's lack of *** that's bringing me down
I went to a *****
She said my life's a bore
So quit my whining 'cause it's bringing her down
Sometimes I give myself the creeps
Sometimes my mind plays tricks on me
It all keeps adding up
I think I'm cracking up
Am I just paranoid?
Grasping to control
So I better hold on
Sometimes I give myself the creeps
Sometimes my mind plays tricks on me
It all keeps adding up
I think I'm cracking up
Am I just paranoid?
Or am I just ******?

Lonely while surrounded
Sometimes
Wishing for the match
Rhythm to my rhyme
Desperation
Maybe
But not enough to settle for just
Anybody
There’s a certain
Specifically
Beat to me
The rhythm
Maybe only he can see
Whoever he is
To dance with me

I wonder if he knows I hate that shirt.  
How could he not?  
I’ve only said it
About him
Out loud
Every time he wears it
He probably wears it to spite me
For having the nerve to have an opinion
He has no obligation to look beautiful
According to my narrow standards
And when I say them
He spites me
By looking beautiful
Anyway
In that **** shirt

Your soul is beautiful
Just captivating
You’re so in touch with yourself
For good or bad
You accept it
And make no excuses
In fact, you’re too ******* yourself
You bear the weight
Make up for what is short
Lots of hard work
You enjoy dirt
But start and end every day clean
You are macho as a man can possibly be
In nature and tendencies
But willing to explore
Femininity
Feelings are not something you shove aside
And though you do have lots of pride
You are, at your base, a humble man
Following a working man’s plan
Never relaxed
Even when you’re relaxing
You refill your energy through music
And the results of a hard days work
Every time you pray
It is someone else you ask to save
A man not of this time
Vintage soul
Honorable goal
Beautiful, beautiful man
I might just trip and fall
Into the plan

Why can’t I write about snow
Or trees?
Find passion in what I’m surrounded with
Whatever it be?
Nature
So many poets have done it
Successfully
Not me
I can’t find passion writing about a tree
As beautiful and magestic as they be
Even the blade of grass
Does it’s thing regally
Standing up, though trod upon
Cut down every week
That blade of grass
Exists defiantly
Hey!  There it is!
The poetry

The man I fall in love with will not be perfect
My guy is gonna be a hott mess
He will be gentle and kind
But an overworked mind
Confused and clumsy too
He will fumble when unhooking my bra
And be kind of unsure of what to do
He will snort like a pig when he laughs
And slip on his ***
Banging his head
While laying down in the bath

I’m the type to fall in love with a
Beautiful dork
Everything worth having
Will need lots of work

Beautiful men are a breed truly rare
Different than handsome, or merely fair
Beautiful men
Get me tingling
A dimpling in my smiles
🌸Blush🌸
Beautiful men
It’s not how they look
It’s something within