Peaceful intentions
in sarcastic sneers
Fall to the gutter
and not to their ears

Promises broken
like pieces of glass
Shatter the spirits
in moments that pass

Playing the victim
outside in the rain
Never once feeling
the other one’s pain

Pushing the limits
while swearing it’s true
Look in the mirror
you won’t like the view

.

I.               I drank from the well
                 on the road to forever

II.             Juggled a leaf to
                 a forest refrain

III.           Picked up a stone with
                “believe” written on it

IV.           Challenged the sun
                to a dance in the rain

V.             Inhaled a breeze
                 that was lavender scented

VI.             Sat near a stream
                  flowing summertime blue

VII.           Woke up and realized
                  that I had been dreaming  

VIII.         Looked out the window
                 and wished it were true

'

Looking back
on pre-written lines,
folded paper in busy drawers,
laughing at the contents,
thinking of the past
when words came
from someplace else
and meanings felt deeper
than those in this
empty notebook of
spiral bound remnants
stuck in circular hell
staring at me from my desk,
pleading for a friendly pen
to decorate its remaining pages
in something other than
disappearing memories

.

Carolina blues
Drunk again on a Wednesday night
Brown paper bag caressing lips
Liquid courage, seeing double
Four feet
Slouched on a red brick façade
Dumpster diner close by
Rented flat leased to another cockroach
Slurred stanzas
Closed curtains watching
Pathetic shouted from passing cars
Worthless has zero value
Begging pennies
Goodwill socks smell bad
Preaching lies of belief
***** creates colorful puddles
Like poetry
Written in liquor store neon
Fading streetlights glow yellow
Shining down on green with envy
Carolina blues

Quintessential fabrications
Reinforced insanity
Skyscraper accusations
Clouded upper floors
Overhead distortion
Inhaling tainted mist
Waving at cranes
Searching for headlines
Threatening to jump
Once the elevator
Reaches ground level

?

Why is it paranoia
feels so much worse
when absolutely no one
is paying attention
to you at all?

I can’t walk off the illusion
that life dances for those
who refuse to hear the music
but feel every beat of the
hearts they have broken
two steps at a time

I carved my existence
from the bark of an old oak tree
while squirrels gawked and
carpenter ants ate my lunch
in a fevered frenzy of
crisscrossing lines
that to some would
appear poetic

Each day brings with it change,
something new waiting,
maybe good, maybe not so much

Everyone views things differently,
sunny days or rain, each
hold qualities that can be either

Regardless of how you take it,
you are never wrong
no matter what someone may say

Just remember this,
you are who you are
and you are special

There will always be those
who try to knock you down
with whatever force they can

Stand strong and understand
you can't be everything
to all people

And neither can they,
no matter how much
they act like they can

Beware the shadows that harbor the fear
Wearing a smile to entice
Bringing a storm to the lingering clear
More than enough to suffice

Coloring clouds in an off center shade
Planning apart the disguise
All that will glisten, the edge of their blade
Steel once embedded the skies

Preying the fool on your worries does rest
Hands over eyes now the view
Changing the truth into lies is the quest
Oh its so easy to do

Words made of candy to sweeten the pain
Sugar attracting your stare
Waving good bye to the few who remain
Brother and sister beware

I stood there staring at the thick drapes
as my cat sharpened his claws
pulling at the fabric, exposing some light,
knowing full well I should just walk away

But I could hear a loud commotion
coming from just the other side

And as I reached for the split
a little voice in my head said,
“You really don’t want to
know what’s going on out there”

But my cat meowed, “Oh go ahead,
curiosity never hurt me!”

So I opened them

Now I wish I hadn’t
God I hate that **** cat

Now that I’ve lost her,
I wish I could turn back the hands of time
to that point where I decided I wanted to live,
and change my mind

Not because of the pain I am feeling
but because of the pain
I caused her

I can clearly see the anger in your eyes,
hear it loudly in your voice,
taste it strongly in your bitterness,
feel it immensely in your actions,
sense it definitely in your disposition,
and I don't even know you,

now that’s power

In lyrical fashion they fall of this gypsy soul
rehearsed longings, song-like reminders
Days long of time in the mind of a charmer,
memories threaded, stitched of fears
Aching endeavors form each step of the procession
slowly along the sorted byways of life,
aged in moments of eternal passing
Crooked lines predict faultless failures,
staggered footprints hide from the light,
cloaked in brocade emotions
on a winding trail of the forgotten
Stained in petrified tears
the sorrowed breadcrumbs are scattered
never to die, again

the world is your oyster
take the pearl
and I’ll just lie here in the sand
an empty shell
once again

This place is toxic,
it carries a weight
that will fall in the corner
with hearts listed fragile
and feelings agape
Swallowing reason
in populist pander
Singing the praises
which bark at the moon
Touching the skin
of a lonely world traveler
Jogging the distance
in words repeated

Beware of the smiles,
the frowns and the teardrops
gathered from distant borders
Taking the spirit
along on the breezes
Casting it forth
in a starless night
with biting fireflies,
electric stingers
glowing for even
the farthest of eyes
hoping only for happiness

Take caution when
spilling emotions,
painting vistas
in cranberry sighs
for blooming gardens
don’t always offer fragrance
in its most appealing form
Thorny revisions hurt,
trickling blood on the stone
A craggy thought
which will never
be a turnip

Tread lightly where matters
of love matter
For like the magical tablecloth,
not only the silverware
and fine china
will be left sitting alone,
but so will you,
empty, unfulfilled
watching the white cotton
disappear,
yanked from your existence

This place is toxic
poetic poison drips, drips, drips
Intravenous contagions
transferred from one to the other
Building fires and fever,
blazing flesh from bone,
killing inspiration
till it is nothing more than
a pile of ash
waiting to be sifted through

Drenched in the sweat of the victim’s last downpour
Seeking the air that is hidden from view
Pacing a dock that extends past the ocean
Turning off dreams that are passed off as new
Chasing a wave till it runs out of water
Wrapping a cloud as a cloak on my skin
Jumping in deep, caught on anchors now falling
Feeling the sea fill my lungs once again
Gasping for breath that is sold on the boardwalk
Gazing above as the sun licks the ground
Washed up on shore with a note in a bottle
Thoughts swept away out of all that is found

I never really knew
what goodbye meant,
until she said it to me

It is moments like these
my mind creates images
that feel so far from truth
but are still real in a sense

Do I imagine them
because they have happened
in the past or because
I expect them to happen

Why when all I want
is the very best
do I always seem to  
imagine the very worst

How can something
once so good,
in a moment become
so extremely bad

When will I ever learn
it is always truth
when it comes to
my imagination

And if it needed to be
I would have done so
Regardless of obstacles
or another’s point of view

Locked doors matter not
Detours mean nothing
Armed guards, whatever

Opportunities ignored
out of respect for wishes,
happily

For me to dance
is to hear the music
playing inside of you
and I do because I listen
to yours

Do you ever listen to mine?

Chalked up to experience
erasers pounding in a sea of dust
white marks on black thoughts
over and under the text book meanings
torn pages litter lost feelings
and no one cares what the teacher’s name is
as the bell rings and hallways fill
with empty stares and blank expressions
dialing forgotten combinations
of locker stashed dreams

you know what they say,
the lower the case,
the easier it is
to reach the beer

Death
the final vacation,
destination unknown.
I just hope its all inclusive,
I left my wallet
in my other suit.

Why are you always so little,
running around kicking shins,
then hiding inside a cookie jar
swearing the crumbs are talking about you
in bittersweet morsels
wiped from hands
stealing all that is sweet in your life?

leapt into a silver lining
clouding intentions
voicing a disdain
for thunderstorms
when thunder
is quieter than a library
throwing every book
at the innocent

sidestepping downpours
while dampened pages
stick together
concealing proof
that false judgment reigns
and sunny days
are written in another chapter

Beware of prophets
with pencil and paper,
lower case amulets
worn like a charm,
dangling lures, shiny
nothing up their sleeves

Phrase-like indulgence
plastered on street lights,
counted and numbered,
scratched below the surface,
slight of hand gestures
tickling termites and maggots,
off shoots of decency

Dramatic detachments
re-glued and fastened,
revolving exits doors
spun out of control

Now you see me,
now you don’t
Abracadabra, like magic
in the hands of cheerleaders,
in the hearts of followers,
in the pockets of prophets,
in the end, the kool aid,
the cliff,
the disappearance

Hocus pocus
and they all fall down
into an abyss
of hypocrisy

Someone playing a concrete violin
with a jackhammer
on a midnight sidewalk,
street lights gawk,
flickering fascination,
tuning keys locked,
rosin swipes declined

chalks marks hold hop scotch trinkets
tossed into the numbered squares,
pawned now for a glass of chardonnay
and a plate of cheese

Paneled walls ache
of yesterday’s smoke rings,
scentless air fresheners,
hanging Christmas trees
presumed innocent,
only here for the music
and rear view mirrors

lipstick traces on a folded napkin
crimson half circles
prints on either side
someone will be kissed tonight

I’ll take it with me
I love the flavor

The makeup mirror held a frayed frown
I recognized from earlier in the day
brought about by a thin film of reason
spun on needles and thread

Carried off by thimbling fingers
clicking and clacking
(annoying as hell)

Costumes are over-sized and under-cut
Scenery drips like cardboard in the rain
Lights, camera, reaction
is printed in bold lines read aloud

While the director has lunch,
cucumber sandwiches and hot toddies

Shows are cancelled due to fame
when the actor’s favorite color
doesn’t even have a matching fabric
woven into the script

There is never a happy ending
when sadness is sewn into the scenes

standing in between dance steps
as my dizzying state of mind
fears the song playing
is merely a recorded message
that time forgot to validate

no stamp of approval
after the eject button is hit
and nothing comes out
but minor key accusations
in fast forward lies

clandestine calculations on ticker tape streamers
add to up to nothing in the vast scheme of time and space

when words fall from trees like levees breaking,

**** it

girl scouts to the rescue, if cookies can float
lined with sand bag intentions while rising waters
recede faster than the hairline of the mayor pro tem
collecting donations as his sister jumps rope
tied to the anchor of his city washing down the street

cleaning the gunk and glitz from gutter spammers
stealing passwords and paper boats
from unsuspecting children taking the day off from school
because the rains came and lemon trees no longer leaked
when anyone was looking,

ah lemon trees,

very pretty

The sunrise is swallowed again,
eternal clouds chant “never”
black, gray, moving slowly north to south
A light drizzle collects on my glasses
It is cold, but it is always cold
I am naked, tied to a leafless tree
for all passing by to gawk and point
I can hear the chuckles, no one feels sorry

Walls cave in around furnished dens
hibernating in darkness
A place where a heart has been ripped out
crushed and shredded
Leaving a hollow opening
in a field of wheat painted cobalt blue
empty in front of me
fading fast in the distance

Ghostly images flowing in the wind
beckoning me to come, to follow, to fall
abandon hope, give up life
and I lean towards doing so
because even if I died
she wouldn’t know or care
and neither would that sun
that shines for others
but not for me

Camp Johnson Crossing
Tire swings and cattails
Tall grass and oak trees
Chasing rabbits and picking flowers
Lily pads and orange soda
Pigtails and slingshots
Rolled up jeans and her hand
Wet toes and sunshine
Bubblegum and promises
First kiss and moonlight
Worn paths and carved initials
Fingers and buttons
Love and life
Teardrops and good-byes
Moments and memories
Camp Johnson Crossing

I slipped on the ***** of mistaken disorders
Whispered my love in the palm of her hand
Watched as she waved from the ship born to meet her
Standing alone in a cavern of sand

"I remember the first time I kissed her,

because it was also the last time."

Can’t relax in a forest of nightmares
with blankets of silence and
pillows folded neatly in the darkness
while down feather delusions suffer
anxiety in nightfall lulls –
Where the hell is the dawn
when you need it

“Violins are for sissies” she said
“I play violin” I answered
“I like sissies” she replied