It's a different
day and age now.
I used to write my
poetry on scraps of
paper or napkins,
paper sacks, whatever
was handy.
One time, I wrote
a poem
on a paper plate--around in
a circle.
I get dizzy thinking about it.
They always got lost, or beer
spilled on them.
My girlfriend blew her
nose on a sonnet.

Now, I keep all my
poetry and short stories on
the computer.
A file for this.
A folder for that.
I have to use a password, and
PIN.
It has to be something important to
me or I will forget it.
Lower case.
Upper case.
Symbols.
Numbers.
It's enough to drive me
batty.
Actually, it's a short putt.
Summer is coming soon, so I
thought some golf humor would
be appropriate.

The things that used to be
important to me aren't anymore.
*****.
Drugs.
Having a woman around
constantly.
I like to think I've gained some
wisdom with age.

Passwords, ugh!
I can't tell you what's important
to me now.
You might hack into my
computer and steal all my
pretty posey.

It feels like I’m being picked clean
When the eagle pecks my innards
Always looking inward, where do I begin?

If you had the wood
And I gave the stone
Would you strike me to see if you make fire?

If I showed you how to grow
Let the maize grow even higher
Would you provide the fruits
If i began to expire?

****** if I do,
Or ****** if I don’t
Just wanted to lift you a little bit higher
See Olympus on high
As the gods pass us by,
Give you the means for all you could desire.

Feels like a lightning bolt struck my soul
A static shock to jolt my mind
I’m trying to piece through a puzzle
But the square pegs won’t fit in the round holes.

(Save me)
I’m giving up as the tide comes
Hope Poseidon brought his pitch fork
(I’m done)
Ready to find a reason to give you reason
(Only wanted you to know)
Everything magic is practical if you practice.

Feels like I’m being picked clean,
This eagle is pecking at my innards
Always looking inward, wish I was as wise as Damocles.

If I push I know you’ll cling harder
Though the distance brings fodder
Wouldn’t stop me from loving you

I won’t beg for forgiveness
It’s in these white walls
Where I’m giving up the sequence
Repeating the patterns that led me to madness
Hoping I could make sense of insensible reactions:

We collide, and disperse, to collide, and reverse
All in one motion, we sing like one verse
But our parts are in different tones.

So if your walls are constructed from steel
I’ll be the
Adamantium to cut right through
If you try to deaden my worth—
Then my words will eat at the center again.

You can push me, but you know I’ll cling harder
To the way that you are in the hope that you’ll be
A burning star upon my blackest skies
When I feel the light die,
And all of our commotion begins again.

We twist like rope strands
Tighter than a vice, caught knotted in our sins
Loving you is a knife and we cut through our skin
Bleeding into the deep of our maws
I’m caught in your grip, ripping you in the jaw
Hoping we can exist beyond the heat of these planks
Burning bridges to rebuild the rivers we row.

We collide, and dispense, to collide, and reverse
All in one motion, singing as one verse
Caught off in the distance,
Maybe one day I’ll be forgiven
Push as you pull and I pull as you push
Give me all and nothing or everything at once.