Poetry has enthralled me
like a river pool twirling
fresh sentimental thoughts
cascading, passion surging.

Poetry has inspired me
like sunrise that awakens
to brighten my soul with zest
indulgence to inscribe poems.

Poetry brings pleasure to me
encourages instinctive expressions
of innate reactions to human existence
I now meditate in solitude to extract reality.

I once had a dream
Though I’m not even sure if it’s a dream

I was in this forest, see
It was cold, damp, and foggy
With me was my Dahlia, dressed in white
My oh so pretty Dahlia

She was just standing right there
Far from me, and we both couldn’t move
As if time had died for the both of us
And she was shaking her head
Uncontrollably, violently, shaking her head

I knew she was crying
Wait, was she crying?
Or was she just bleeding through her eyes?
I don’t know, but there was blood all over her

Then, right in front of us was a wolf
Black fur, eyes drenched in vermillion
It—or he?—was staring at me, growling
And then, it—or he?—began to grin

I looked the wolf in the eyes
They were fiery, like windows to hell
And the wolf kept on grinning,
Its sharp teeth like demonic horns

I don’t know, but it seems like
The wolf is there physically in front of me
But its soul—or his?—was trying to **** my Dahlia
To strip her of her innocence
Not to mention her clothes

But of course, dreams are severed by waking up
And I did wake up, to the smell of decaying flesh
With dried-up blood painted all over my skin
I turned around, and there she was
My Dahlia, cold and lifeless

Like her heart

I couldn't help it.
I saw the open door
saw you were asleep
grabbed my clothes
from off the floor
and tried hard not
to weep
as I took my leave
trying so hard
not to look back
at you there
wondering why
I should even care--
but knowing the truth
will always follow me--
I cannot love you
or care or stay ever--
I have to be free.
So I hurriedly dressed
and quietly took my leave
and I ran,
yes, I ran
and left you to grieve
and wonder why--
but better to have you wondering
than you having to watch
as I slowly die...

I’m fearful of reality
and scared of my death
I’m afraid of not speaking
and wasting my breath
and leaving that empty space
inside of my head
to dwell on the fact
that nothing’s been said
and that I’m uneasy
of going off on my own
even if I think
I’m better off alone

They come they go,
A dime a dozen.
Look all around,
Then you're frozen.
Out of time,
Out of line.
Far from the top,
But that's all fine.
In a moment,
Sooner than later.
Finds you unexpected
Then you start to cater.
It is that simple,
To make an attempt.
Break free from the walls,
It'll start to commence.
The walls look big,
Yet are just hollow.
Make that step,
And see what follows.
Words begin to flow,
Actions become reaction.
Take it slow,
Don't lose your traction.
The ground keeps you down,
When you're up in the sky.
It's actually happening,
Seize the moment before it dies.
Worry not of the outcome,
Rather about the process.
Detach that constant fear,
And forget about the losses.

don't feel sorry for me.
I am a competent,
satisfied human being.

be sorry for the others
who
fidget
complain

who
constantly
rearrange their
lives
like
furniture.

juggling mates
and
attitudes

their
confusion is
constant

and it will
touch
whoever they
deal with.

beware of them:
one of their
key words is
"love."

and beware those who
only take
instructions from their
God

for they have
failed completely to live their own
lives.

don't feel sorry for me
because I am alone

for even
at the most terrible
moments
humor
is my
companion.

I am a dog walking
backwards

I am a broken
banjo

I am a telephone wire
strung up in
Toledo, Ohio

I am a man
eating a meal
this night
in the month of
September.

put your sympathy
aside.
they say
water held up
Christ:
to come
through
you better be
nearly as
lucky.

we were wet autumn leaves,
hanging side by side
from the highest branch
of an old maple tree
with a magnificent view
of city life.
the cold breeze swayed
us back and forth,
softly pressing us together.
you admired my yellow tint
as i loved your red glow
and the thin veins that
spread throughout
your delicate body.
it was all perfect enough
to make of forget
that autumn stood for decay
and to make us feel
like we were infinite.