Looking out my window
the stars are mine to keep
The corner light lights up nothing more than
the asphalt on the street

I thump my pencil against my thumb
Whilst I wander aimlessly Lost in the past
not liking what I see

I feel my insides twisting tight
My breathing becomes restrained
while going over all the errors . . .
it softly begins to rain


I let out a confusing sigh
as the thoughts fade away to die
I long to confess on paper
giving answers to all my questions why


I'm looking out my window
The stars no longer looking in
Both are burning wasted time
Tomorrow . . .
I'll do it all over for the millionth time again

When a black sheet has been
thrown over the moon
and a million lazy stars
have fallen from view
I hear the wind has
grown tired of traveling
I hear the sound of mandolins
crying in the mountains
I hear the rattle of
gypsy wheels
I hear the heavy hearts
of horses upon the
restless roads of
broken poetry ...
Clay.M

In the bite of blue mornings
before the swirl of the
buttery sun disturbs
the dreams of birds
I write I drink coffee
I write I drink coffee
I cross out words within
the belly of black clouds
I try to disappear
this kind of poetry
is never offended by
your distance it has no
need for company or
meaningless conversation
it waits for the sound to fall
it waits for the subtle sense
of true isolation
it waits for the ghostly
stare of memories
it waits for the cold sting
of lost love  
it waits for the tears
it waits ...
Clay.M

There’s a place
On top of the hill
Where they prescribe me
My happy pill,
Through revolving doors
And up the stairs
All those drugs
They like to share,
I need my dose
I need my pill
In that place
On top of the hill.
Men in white coats
Are keeping me afloat
All I am is a sinking boat.
Waters aren’t calm
A wall short of a brick
That place on the hill
We give me my fix.
I know I have
my scarred flaws
Everything goes away
Through those revolving doors.

We become blind when we cease
To see, the extraordinary within you and me.

We blame and name and attempt to tame
Others to be the same, for peace?

Open your eyes anew, please!
And open your hands trustingly.

My Spartan woman
Strong of heart
Very tenacious
Smile so bright
My Spartan woman
My guiding light.
Woman of power
Astute of brain,
She’s my shield
When the arrows rain.
My Spartan woman
The queen of love
Even the stars
Look in awe above,
Lots of respect
Hold high in esteem
My Spartan woman has O C D
And just wants to clean.