Hey Jolly Man
How are you?
Too much to drink
and hangover too.

Naughty list I see
I am very contrite
Not a good year
my life sort of bites

Coal again
in the stocking by the fire
Sitting alone
nothing to desire

The world is a mess
peace to all men
You failed me this year
Not one lasting pen

Holiday cheer
where did it go
I sought to repent
and go with the flow

But these times are hard
for every last soul
I looked to the sky
No St. Nick, see me crawl

Bury my head in the pillow
another Christmas Eve.
Nothing has changed
the world I must leave

Goodbye St. Nick
I want to believe
I sit here in lonely
Tears do not leave

Sing bird sing, Sing your song so sweet.

Oh, but not a peep.

Meet me by the weeping willow tree, And you will see.

Mama bird had fallen far from her tree.

The singing bird had lost his song.

-Knowing that no matter the day, the sun will always rise and it will always set and each time, it will be even beautiful than the time before
-There are always new books to read and new music to listen to
-A cup of coffee on a cold winter day
-Freshly dried blankets and sheets
-The butterflies that come with a first date
-Loving and being loved back
-Knowing that no matter where you are in the world, you and the people you love are looking at the same moon
-Music that gives you chills
-Lines in books that are so good that you have to read them twice
-The fact that you're young and the world is IN fact, yours

curled up down the end of the
bed where loose feet hang,
comfort purrs, doused,
incontent. easy game.

so i sleep a little more:
outside, everything
will churn continually
in cyclic tone, oil-slick,
patterns always look the same.

further out, little
is left but the low rush
of breaking wavelets over
shallowing stone retainer
walls kept, keeping
the weight of this inestimable
machine
on track.

breathe stale air, smile,
the skyline accumulates;
handfuls of grey at a time.

"You can't really love someone you've never met."


          He's the first thing on my mind
   when I open my eyes,
             the last thing I think about
    before I go to sleep,
           he's in my thoughts all
    the moments in between,
his face takes away the nightmares
             and fills all my dreams.
       *How is this not love?

When the day comes that I settle down.
I don't want it to be in some forgotten town.
I want to be remembered for what I've done..
And I want to be able to tell my son..
That his dad was strong.
That he stood his ground.
That he had no fear. Of a raging crowd.
I want to be proud of my efforts here.. I want him to know that I had no fear.

There's something comforting about crying yourself to sleep with a storm raging outside your window.

The rain, your tears.
The howling wind, your sobs.
The thunder, your pounding heart.

Almost as if you're crying, so the world is crying with you.