Some days it’s more
When it’s little things
Sometimes same
Sometimes new
Sometimes new within the same
Teeny moments added
In
To become
Everything

Obviously I was never part of the plan
Show up attention demand
Whether you notice
Or not
That’s what I am
If I’m thinking favorably
That you would even notice me
Much less like what you see
Who knows how true it could be?
Subtractions from additionally
Connections telescopically
Tunnel visions unreasonably
Bordering on crazily
Maybe

It was my fault
Really
I tried to blame you
For pretending not to see
But I should have known
Your disinterest was a “no”
I had every reason to go
Just like I do now
Yet here I am
With five encores
And twelve final bows
As a means of explanation
To nobody else but me
Trying to understand
Why I held on so pitifully
I must have gotten something from it
It healed something to some degree
I chained myself to a dream
And now I call myself free
But here I still stay
Tethered to thee

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

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

Thank you for piquing my interest
And thank you for tingling my toes
It really made me bloom
My heart getting almost too big for this room
And even though it didn’t last
It’s a bright point of my past
Got me spinning like a the perfect ride
In the tilt a whirl
In an otherwise boring slump
But as much as you get my heart racing
I cannot be a chump

You are one of the last
Few
True
Gentlemen
It’s such a rare treat to know you
You never push
Or ask me to extend
On what I’m comfortable to do
You respond openly
And, truthfully too
You’re not afraid to be sensitive
But you’re also strong
And brave
I want you to know
It’s a pleasure knowing you
You beautiful, beautiful, man
I think you’re the best I ever knew
And I’m so **** delighted
You want to know me too
I’m tingling, shining, and skipping around
The change you brought out in me
So I’m deeply thanking the
Woman who brought you to be
You beautiful, beautiful man
You might be too good for me

In my imagination
You like all the right music
You love to play pinball and pool
You're more concerned with doing the right thing
Than being thought for a fool
You'll always be ready
For what the day comes
With an adventurous flair
All I know is wherever you are
I sure can't wait to get there

He got supa dupa playa status
Got me off twice this week
And we ain’t even met
Yet

I tend to set my sights high
Impossibly so, really
Go big or don’t bother
Sounds reasonable to me
You are part of all that
You’re probably out of my league
I could try to deny it
But it’s pretty easy to see
Well hey
No harm
No foul
It’s just a little thing that ends up to be
Of no bother to you
And
A whole lot of ***** poetry

You are a writer of beautiful
Vampire ****
I wouldn’t have previously thought
Vampire **** could be beautiful
But vampires are deep
And surprisingly subtle
Edgy yes
But also smooth
Who woulda thought
Vampires could be so **** cool

And that’s all I have to say about that.

If Jesus were alive today
He would not be concerned
With the average, happy, gay
He wouldn’t over stress
On how short is her dress
Jesus would hardly care
Over who has *** with who
Or what someone wears
Jesus would be out
Feeding the poor
Helping those who have little
Get some more
Jesus would welcome
All races and creeds
And talk about equality
He’d respect women
And be quite appalled
At those who in his name
Denigrate all
He’d pick up anyone who falls
No matter who that someone is
Because when Jesus was alive
That’s what he did

Swag
That thing
That THING
Not necessarily seen
By anyone but me
But that’s unlikely
I ain’t the first with the eyes to see
The swag you bringing
So beautifully
Your authentic self
So **** swaggy
To me

The loss
The LOSS
The ache of empty
Empty arms
Empty heart
Empty space where he used to be
The ache of watching
Everybody
You love
Hurt so badly
Nothing
NOTHING
Will ever be the same
She is facing the LOSS
Even the hardiest humans
Can never tame
I cannot help her
Neither can you
We write impotent poetry
Recall our favorite memories
Dream of those wonderful days
How it used to be
When things were together
And perfect
Before we recognized that perfection
For what it was
We ******* about minor details
Dog **** in the yard
Taking too long in a line
Flat tire
Ran out of wine
Such a privilege
To ***** about little things
Back when life was fine
I have nothing to offer
But my love
And a few rhyming lines

Yesterday I saw a fly
Caught in a spiderweb
It was struggling so earnestly
I could feel it’s pain in me
So I let the fly go to be free
And that would have been the end of the story
Except now that spider is stalking me
He’s sitting up there in his web in the tree
Patiently plotting revenge on me

I could make it seem like such toil
And claim I bleed for my poetry
But it is not at all work
It is a joy for me
Elation of creation
And then I set it free
But I can’t really let it go
It’s still a part of me

The age old questions
Upon which nobody can agree
Most always seem so simple to me
And probably everybody
It seems so obvious
That those who can’t see
Seem to be ignorant willfully
But they probably think
The same about me

I want you to have so many laughs
Sunny days
Health always
Intelligence to know when to pass and fade
So I can’t be butthurt
When you pass on me
You got your reasons
Seen lots of seasons
And know what’s worth folding on
Better hands, and the odds are long
I ain’t giving up
Yet
Holding on by the seat of my pants
Still working on acceptance
Halfway there, maybe
But can’t let it go
Baby
Wherever it’s gonna take me

How does one put on the brakes
When they desperately want to RUN?
How does one hold back the tide
When on it’s waves one longs to ride?
How does one
Block out an unreliable sun?
Don’t relegate oneself
To the shade
Take it in small doses
Hurry up and learn
Suns have the potential to burn

The dragon is withered,
His bones are now crumbled;
His armour is shivered,
His splendour is humbled!
Though sword shall be rusted,
And throne and crown perish
With strength that men trusted
And wealth that they cherish,
Here grass is still growing,
And leaves are yet swinging,
The white water flowing,
And elves are yet singing
     Come! Tra-la-la-lally!
     Come back to the valley!

The stars are far brighter
Than gems without measure,
The moon is far whiter
Than silver in treasure:
The fire is more shining
On hearth in the gloaming
Than gold won by mining,
So why go a-roaming?
     O! Tra-la-la-lally
     Come back to the Valley.

O! Where are you going,
So late in returning?
The river is flowing,
The stars are all burning!
O! Whither so laden,
So sad and so dreary?
Here elf and elf-maiden
Now welcome the weary
     With Tra-la-la-lally
     Come back to the Valley,
          Tra-la-la-lally
          Fa-la-la-lally
               Fa-la!

It hit the skids
Heading towards the *****
Of what can maybe happen
When you start talking about it
Led via vindictive
To a place unrecognizable
Becoming
Becoming
Less than we should be
Over the promise someone else
Will have it worse than me
And in knowing that
I will gladly
Pass my vote to thee
Make a big show of it
How strong we be
And put an end to our collective
Victim mentality

On a warm summer's evening
On a train bound for nowhere
I met up with a gambler
We were both too tired to sleep
So we took turns a-starin'
Out the window at the darkness
The boredom overtook us
And he began to speak

He said, "Son, I've made a life
Out of readin' people's faces
And knowin' what the cards were
By the way they held their eyes.
So if you don't mind my sayin'
I can see you're out of aces
For a taste of your whiskey
I'll give you some advice."

So I handed him my bottle
And he drank down my last swallow
Then he bummed a cigarette
And asked me for a light
And the night got deathly quiet
And his face lost all expression
Said, "If you're gonna play the game, boy,
You gotta learn to play it right.

You got to know when to hold 'em,
Know when to fold 'em,
Know when to walk away,
And know when to run.
You never count your money
When you're sittin' at the table.
There'll be time enough for countin'
When the dealing's done.

Every gambler knows
That the secret to survivin'
Is knowin' what to throw away
And knowin' what to keep.
'Cause every hand's a winner,
And every hand's a loser,
And the best that you can hope for
Is to die in your sleep."

And when he finished speakin'
He turned back toward the window
Crushed out his cigarette
And faded off to sleep
And somewhere in the darkness
The gambler he broke even
And in his final words
I found an ace that I could keep

It used to be
When he said the word “baby,”
I thought he was talking about me

Back in the day
When the biggest drama I saw on tv
Was  Bobby Brady scared to climb a tree
And of course
It ended splendidly
When he lost his parakeet
And found it up there
Somewhere high
And Bobby Brady was no longer
Height shy
And saved his beloved parakeet
And got over his fear of climbing trees
Oh to be back in the seventies
When that was the biggest drama
I saw on tv
Although, as much as Bobby seemed to love it
We never again saw that parakeet

There is no requirement
Of a tortured soul
In poetry
Just because it works for you
It doesn't work for me
And my poetry's not any less
Because I am happy

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

What would happen if cockroaches suddenly became an endangered species
Rare and hardly ever seen
Anywhere
When the last cockroach infested house
Is found
Would that be the most celebrated
Place in town?

Words released into the void
Once aimless pearls
Strung together
To be found
By the lucky
Beach comber
Finding precious gems
And abandoned gold
Upon crowded shores
Of people looking in the other direction

I wish to see
A poem written from you to me
But would never ask
Maybe it’s best if I see
All poems as about me
Such a narcissistic task
But for every reader who identifies
The poem is about them, too
Personally, I’ve seen
Plenty of poetry
That could have been from you to me
In that it brought you to my mind
From wherever you are
And poetry responds in kind
To you, I’m sure
And then I meet somebody new
And somehow that poem
Becomes
About him, too

Timmy the tick
On a high blade of grass
Spied a delicious looking
Furry thing
Sleeping
Near the back path
At sunrise he started
Making his way
Getting all through the yard
Took the entire day!  
Timmy made it
And got all the way there
Only to find
A furry teddy bear

There is an old man in the yard next door
Who often comes out to feed the birds
And he wears a long nightshirt
Like most men used to do
But my little grandkids don’t know that rule
So when the old man comes out
And they’re talking about
“She is outside feeding the birds,”
And though I’m pretty sure he heard those words
He doesn’t correct them
And neither do I
Because as much as he looks like a very old guy
I cannot be positive
He’s not a she
And so I continue to let it be

I write him poetry
Collecting moments
Feelings, musings
Existing once in my mind
And now in my words
Forever together
Words
He and me
Entwined
Via poetry
What that man creates in me
I put out
Universally
Through the art of poetry
And thus
He and I
Will always be
Encapsulated in the free
The oxymoron of poetry

How do you tell someone
“That seems like the first draft”
When they feel like the thing is done?

The numbers are sparse
Nobody here is
Searching accolades
Maybe the search is within
By putting our poems without
Sometimes you can’t see something right
Til you put it to another’s eyes
That must be what the search is for
In art and poetry
I’m putting all this out there
In a search for me

I see whiny poetry
Over-played
Realms of poor me
Or poor you
Sometimes it gets
The best of me
Frustration
At frustration
Expressed
So frustrated there I be
And that’s a slippery *****
If one I ever did see

There is no prince upon a steed
Galloping here to rescue me
No Hobbit fulfilling a destiny
Riding high upon a walking tree
If I wanna find a hero
I’ll have to find her in me

Wholly Divided
With a pretense that it's about race
Which maybe it is
But that's just noise on the surface
It's about frustration
With self and position
A feeling of imposition
With no recognition
Lots of friction
But suffered in silence
Because talk may bring violence
And none of it makes any sense
Until twenty years from today
When people will say
"Ah, I was part of those days,"
And half will have lied
To portray
They supported the opposite side

Bedrock that did not cover the roots
Otherwise impossible
Except in
You

I been through some ****
Soul crushing, unbelievable
“How the hell did you get through it?”
Type ****
But I did get through
Past and over
You won’t see or hear me
Use it as a sob story
Or a crutch
Or a “this is why I **** up so much”
I **** up plenty
Surely do
But each **** up is something new
Not because of damage to
My ego or psyche over what I’ve been through
All that made me stronger
Evolved courageous
Unstoppable baddass is me
No crying about what should have been
Or didn’t happen
Or how much better it used to be
It’s possible to go through lots of ****
And still wind up happy

Theatrics
Attract us
We love to see a show
Looked at from our lens
Over the crowd
The one we notice
Is flailing about

You scream to me
Silently
Mostly about snuggling
Without meaning to
But there you are
Unintentionally
Screaming to me
Silently

The top
          Is
            Not
               A
Stable place
          Ready to fall
          Any time and place
          Sometimes second best
          Is better than being number one
          Nobody gunning to take you down
      Vice presidents don’t
Typically get shot in parades
Or theaters
When all the world is a stage
Better to be
The understudy
In a play
Nobody wants to see

Thirsty for you
And the perfect way that you come through
Maybe lust
Maybe more
Surely something good in store
You got the vibe
Of just the right guy
Heading in slowly
And smart, you and I
Could be flirtation
Could be ride or die
You are worth giving whatever a try

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

It is not a burn
Most of the time
It is a slow hollowing out
Emptying
Of matter and mass
Yet somehow it be heavier

The wild eagle
Is seducing me
I hear his call
It might even be a loud moan
The wild eagle is calling me home
While he continues to roam

I had a song of judgement in my mind
Not of myself
This time
But of society
And of myself
Too,
Once I reminded myself
Society means
Me too
I had to rescind my judgement
And think a little further on it
And since I thought of all that
I no longer remember
What it was
But it was good enough to get me
To log on

It’s not a big thing
But it stopped a big thing
Which previously
I thought no thing could be
The thorn and the crown
The “**** girl, you let yaself down”
The “when and if he comes back around
He may listen, but he won’t believe”
The girl who apparently
Got cheap tricks up her sleeve
He ain’t missing nothing
Smartest to leave

He gives me a sip
From which I produce a flood
Run dry soon
And parched
Waiting for rain
Again
I suppose the dry times would be worse
If he knew how much I thirst