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Windy winter day,
You walk alone in the white and gray.

I walk four paces far from you,
A ghost in the snow's fair ballet.

A bitter breeze blows from the west,
Interrupted by my wispy form.

Graces your rosy cheek,
And you turn to where the winds came from.

Squinting through the blinding snow,
You stare right at me.

And for a moment I think you know,
That I am here, a winter's ghost.
This is a letter I found sitting in a desk drawer of an old house in the Genesee river country. Or at least that's how it reads.
Jan 16 · 359
A Poem
A poem,
Is a little story,
You write on little paper.
Sometimes it rhymes,
Sometimes it doesn't.

A poem,
Is a song,
That the singer was too hurt to sing aloud.
Sometimes it's mortal and sad,
Sometimes it's the irony of walking out of a flood thirsty.

A poem,
Is a prayer,
One that the author begs you to hear.
Sometimes it will save your soul,
Sometimes it will save another's.

A poem,
Is a gift,
So you should treat it as one.
Sometimes you will receive one,
Sometimes you won't.

A poem,
Is a curse,
So be warry if you steal one.
Sometimes it will come back to bite you,
Sometimes it will just leave you fearing the possibility it would.

A poem,
Is a poet,
And those who are poets, are poetry.
Sometimes they strive for fame,
Sometimes they leave their work in random places under random names.

A poem,
Is a call in the night,
That echoes into the ears of those who are hurting.
Sometimes it heals them,
Sometimes it guides them to healing.

A poem,
Is optional,
But those who read them won't regret.
Sometimes we can't bear to read poems,
Sometimes we can only bear to read poems.
A little longer, but it's hard to capture beauty in few words. Hope you enjoy!
Jan 16 · 723
Good Morning Gray Sky
Somebody tell the sky,
That it doesn’t have to be gray,
If it doesn’t want to anyways.

It’s awfully hard,
To rain on someone’s parade,
If the sun is shining through you.

Even when your curtain is closing,
That’s no reason for you,
To not give the best finale you can.
Be your best self, because there’s no reason not to. Life’s a lot easier when you're your best self.
A weak sailor was I,
When she caught my eye.
A beautiful lass,
Straight from the sea.
Fair skin,
Just like the petals of the water lily.
With blue eyes,
The color of ocean waves.

Thin figure,
Cast a shadow on the sunny summer bay.
Boy was she pretty,
The kind of girl an old fisher,
Would call his finest catch.
Sandy hair tied back,
Elegance like a species of ancient lore.

And I guess,
The water wasn't just what she was for.
For back on shore,
The boat club dance floor,
Wasn't quiet full without her.
The way she'd move,
Like a shiny fishing lure.
This is a remastered version of a summer poem I wrote a while ago. I know it's not summer yet, but I needed some summer sunshine.
Jan 15 · 273
The Bell Tower At Night
Alone sits the tower's bell,
In the glow of lantern light.
Looking out at the town,
Silently gazing upon the night-fell streets.
Every day, the elders yearn to hear it ring again,
They want to hear the sound they know.
From their childhood, they remember,
What it was like to hear the bronze ring echo.
Yet, the children,
Don't have a chance to forget.
This is one of my favorite poems I've ever written. Hope you enjoy, and happy Wednesday!
Jan 15 · 384
And God Sent The Plagues
You're losing out again,
Young nephew dying on a hospital bed.
Your whole earth,
Rocked to pieces,
In minutes, just like that.

It scares me,
Just how fast this frail thing,
Life, can fall apart.
For the minute it starts beating,
There's a dagger at the heart.

I've never seen a devil cry,
But even Satan would shed a tear for this.
Free this earth,
From the clutches,
Of undeserving punishment.

Why, what could explain,
Make up for this?
I'm doubting you,
Great Creator,
How could you let this happen?
It seems now more than ever there is more suffering than light. We are slowly dipping below the sun, turning into an abyss of the world we once knew. Alas, even though times are tough, we are humans. A race defined by our uncanny ability to bounce back. We are strong enough to see through the inky pitch of today! I know that there will come a time where we drag ourselves from the trench, but for now the least we can do is keep pushing. Because if we lose faith in a brighter future, we will be victims of our own defeat subject to a world akin to your worst nightmare. I think I speak for all of us today when I say that things could be better. But I am confident they will be soon. Never lose hope, for we are only as good as we let ourselves be. Times will change but it is up to us to make them change and not be blinded by the disastrous things that have been sent our way. Be human, have courage, and don't lose sight of that perfect place. Have a great night everyone, I hope for the sake of all of us that we as a people may rise from the ashes and spread a new wing. Become the Phoenixes of modern Earth, and never back down.
Yes you made it,
Congratulations!
How does it feel,
To be up on the big stage?

It's been a little while,
How are you?
Well if you don't have the time,
To talk you don't have to be rude.

Yes, you've made yourself very clear,
You don't need me at all.
But don't forget,
I'm the reason they saw you,
At all.
Fame corrupts the very principles of people, I think that's the lesson every washed out celebrity manger can teach us.
Jan 13 · 232
Nomads From LA
They come from the West,
Covered in ashes,
Suit cases of soot.

They call them Californians,
Nomads from the west coast.
They come from burning cities,
On bare foot.

They've got stone faces,
Hardened gazes.
I can't imagine how it must be,
To have your home,
Burned from gables,
To ground.

God bless the Californians,
Lot of lost souls from the West Coast.
How did we get here, prayers to those fleeing the California wildfires.
Jan 13 · 395
I'm No Lawyer
I could never be a lawyer,
Not because I couldn't lie.
I can lie plenty,
Whether or not it's right.

But I couldn't stand to see,
When an innocent victim.
Gets blamed,
And there was nothing I could do,
Because the judge can't see.
I don't know how they do it.
That’s a reminder,
Of who I used to be.
Scars on my body,
Tell me to save my words.

“You’re too young and brash.”

It’s that big mouth of mine,
That gets me hurt.
I don’t think people,
Can take the truth today.

“You’re a bad man, you can’t save yourself.”

I chose silence,
In spite of the aggressor inside of me.
There’s nothing peaceful,
About the pacification of a fighter.
I’m sick and weary, just going through old poems and memories.
Jan 13 · 356
The Chair People
Right on 490,
The raised turn to 490 east.
There’s a hill,
And on that hill sits a lone,
Lazy Boy recliner.
Two folding chairs,
A table,
Two men,
And one sign.
“F Trump”

Boys will be boys,
Guess that’s it.
To anyone living in Irondequoit you’ve probably seen this hill. Some real brave people there.
Jan 13 · 232
Fortitude
I'm not going to let you push me around.
Just because I chose to walk in peace,
Does not mean I am incapable of wielding anger.
Of which shines like a silver blade,
I am not too weak,
That I will crumble to you.
I am iron and steel,
You are wood and glass.

Do not dare make me your punching bag,
Lest I punch back.
Jan 13 · 386
Courage
I'm a big target,
I don't fit the mold.

Does the fact I'm self contempt,
Scare you and your self admired stature?

Just because you will give confidence for popularity,
Doesn't mean I have to.

So move on,
I won't grieve myself due to you.
Don't give up on yourself because they want you to. You're better off that way.
Jan 13 · 700
My Uncle's Time Machine
Me and my uncle,
Went out to buy,
Steel sheets and computer parts.

I asked him,
"For what?"
He told me,
"Nephew, I'm sick of living in today,
We're going to build a time machine,
To escape the modern age!"

So build we did,
And **** hard we tried.
But I guess you can't escape,
The world the internet trapped you inside.

Back inside we went,
When it started to rain.
Not before dragging the time machine,
Far away.
We covered it with a tarp,
To keep it dry until the next day.

But no matter how many hours,
We poured into our project.
It turned to defect,
So I guess money will never buy happiness.
Even though when you google happy,
There's a shopping tab.

So Mr. Musk,
Don't deceive me.
My wallet will never be,
A road to happiness,
In quite the way you sold it to be.

Guess I don't need those glasses,
A cheer to me!
The new addiction of this age is not caffeine. It's stimulation and the feeling of fitting in. Be different, go outside, the world is great when you're not doom scrolling.
Jan 12 · 374
Dog Fell -sleep
Well I c-n't
Type with the letter "-"
My puppy fell -sleep on it
So it might t-ke me
- minute to s-y I luv you too
Bec-use his n-se is n-w -n the "-"
I -ctu-lly c-n't use the "-" I need him to w-ke up
Jan 11 · 272
The Printer Got Fired
Read the newspaper,
Read a book.

Scrolling through these videos,
Gives my soul a headache.

I'm just gonna make some chicken n' noodle soup,
And use a paper, or as a modern stance, pauper cook book.
I don't know exactly what's different here, but I like it. It just seems different from the rest of my poems.
Jan 11 · 435
Natural
Crystal tears,
Make up a diamond sea,
Where on the golden shores,
Glass roses grow.

But I picked the green weeds instead.
Yeah idk what to put down here. Hope you enjoyed :)
Jan 10 · 209
Sailors Clubs
Sailors clubs are better than the rich ones,
We've got sails instead of super boats.
The gentlemen, (the ones we've got)
Don't drink fine wines but draft beers.

There's no sparkle of gold spoons or diamond bowls,
But still a Sailor's Club is better than a rich one.
Why? Because where else will I dance,
A Sailor's jig.
It only takes love to make a place worth being.
Another night I'm wasting,
According to the billionaire news letter,
Bowling with CL and JR.
A sleek new bowler's cap,
A broken in pair of bowling shoes,
I found while thrifting.
JR made a joke,
"They look like Al Capone's lost shoes."
And I guess they do,
So whether I dress like an English bartender,
Or an Italian mob boss.
That's up to you to judge,
Because I'm wearing my new bowler's cap,
My all American pool shirt,
And Al Capone's lost shoes.
Some of my best nights, cheers to my fellow bowling fans!
I have an American diner kind of life,
Like a menu full of cheap food,
That's the best you've ever had.

A big stack of pancakes,
A slice of cherry pie,
All for $10.99.

That's how I'll keep living,
With the holes in my pockets,
And my cheap diner food.
I let my friend read this and they told me I write with the soul of a grown man. Hope everybody had a great day today!
It's a nice day in Paris,
A chilly afternoon.
At a tourist cafe,
With an Italian Painter,
Chatting about the French language.
"Why would you write about Dan's Amour?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well it's Dan's thing, seems personal to him."
"No, no, I wrote about dans amour."
"Yes that's what I said, Dan's Amour!"
Sigh
Another poem painting onto the world of, "The Gray Man Of Paris," I like these little light hearted ones.
Jan 10 · 251
AI Wins Again
Have you considered,
AI might not be outpacing us,
We as a people,
Might just be slowing down.

Becoming more reliant,
On robotics,
That we've made so many,
Our mistakes are catching up to us.
This goes out to the kid who spent twenty minutes trying to show me the weakness of human work.
Jan 10 · 228
Fires in California
California is getting punished,
For something unapparent.
Because they have the breath of Hell,
Burning through their front doors.
So for the love of the west coast,
Somebody save Malibu.
It's a barrel of chaos down their, pray for the lives of those involved.
Jan 10 · 180
Scrapbook Poem #99
I'm going to finish my book,
I'm going to finish my work.
This time it will really happen,
This time it will really be read.
Keep your eyes peeled!
Jan 10 · 531
Camera Girl
Here comes the camera girl,
Clumsy American beauty!
With a French hat placed upon her head lazily,
And her camera hanging from her neck.
Looking around the streets,
Photographing Paris, a way to live through scenes.

But she'll never be happy,
Just watching the people,
Who dance by the Eiffel Tower.
No, she must dance!
But alas, she has no man with which to dance,
How sad.
Adventures in Paris are the best.
Jan 10 · 276
Amherst
I sat on the rock,
With the statue of Robert Frost,
And thought.

I laid on the stone,
With the metal cutout of Emily Dickenson,
And cried.
If you go to Amherst Massachusetts, there is a town where my father grew up. Within that town there is a rock and a stone with two silhouettes of famous poets, Robert Frost and Emily Dickenson, having a conversation. I sat in on their talk, and while they said nothing, I feel wiser because of it.
Jan 10 · 1.4k
Sunrise Over Bare Trees
A new morning,
At the death of an old week.
Skeleton trees reach their bony arms,
Into the sea of rose gold clouds above.

Faint chimney smoke,
From a distant home.
A family who wakes,
And won't see the sky,
In the same way I do.

They will return to their beds,
In the soft clutch of tonight.
And won't stare out the window,
Into the twilight curl,
Of star branches weaved.
I love the sunrise. Happy Friday :)
Jan 10 · 228
Scrapbook Poem #98
Oops!
Thought I put that in private,
Didn't mean to post it.
Embarrassing, didn't know that was set on public.
Jan 10 · 208
Scrapbook Poem #97
"I'll see you tomorrow"
I lied,
I'm going to see you next,
In my sweet dreams.
Love.
Jan 10 · 465
Move Baby!
Strike me down baby,
Strike me down.
Take me to the dance floor,
Let me see the fire in your eyes.
Move with that passion,
I yearn to see.
I'll catch you if you fall,
While pouring your heart out.
So while were still young,
Move those hips.
And hit me up,
Looking good,
Looking fly,
Looking like I might just have to try,
Something crazy to be your guy.
Don't leave me hanging baby,
Your wild fire tames me.
So do the ballet,
Of the modern world,
Let me watch while you twirl.
And leave me lusting,
Once again.
Inspired by "Come On Eileen," picked me right up again.
Jan 10 · 137
Scrapbook Poem #96
I can't breathe,
I'm afraid
my life leaving me?
sick and dying
all over aga-
It's getting worse, but lucky for me I don't need to breathe to type
Jan 9 · 198
Poem's From the 2010's
Reading poems from,
2013-2018,
On here is like,
Walking through the graves,
Of dead poets,
Who breathed breath,
And sang songs,
For years just like us,
But they aren't on here today,
To show us that,
They breathed breath,
And sang songs,
Before their beloved art's,
Death.
Beautiful poems from years ago, it's sad they are so far away.
Jan 9 · 234
Canvas
Blank canvas,
Is still creative.
Because the fact is,
You can only paint an original blank painting,
Once.
Abstract art either confuses me, or elates me.
Jan 9 · 148
Scrapbook Poem #95
A playlist,
Music from and for the both of us.
A hangout,
Place for us to be us.
A relationship,
A way for us to love us.
Scenes from the past, visions for the future.
Jan 9 · 178
Scrapbook Poem #94
If nothing matters and we all die in the end. Why can't we make what little living we have, good?
When nothing matters, commit everything to doing what you want.
Jan 9 · 302
What You are to Me
You're the harmony,
For my melody.
You're the piano,
To my singing.
Your the calm,
To my anger.
The beat,
To my rap.
I'm tired because I stayed up late working on our playlist. And I don't regret it.
Jan 9 · 384
Gray Man in Paris
Bonjour Gray Man,
What is on the menu for breakfast today?
A black coffee and a plate of blueberry jam,
On plain white bread.
A blueberry, for the blue in you,
Coffee and bread, because you find it tasty.
Gray Man of Paris,
What's here that you fancy?
What led you to leave to shaded land,
Of pencil-paper men?
Was it a secret love of bright colors,
That you look so dreary against?
Well salut Gray Man,
Enjoy breakfast in the colored land.
Nobody wants to live in gray forever. :)
Jan 9 · 174
Six Words
Power,
To,
The,
Six,
Word,
Poems.
The ability to write your whole poem in six words is daunting.
Jan 9 · 301
Cage Me
Don't cage me,
Don't chain me,
Don't try and change me,
I am the river,
I am free.

So you can't control me,
You can know me,
But you'll never own me.
Freedom is a human instinct, how come people think they can go without it.
Jan 9 · 119
Scrapbook Poem #93
YOU WOULDN'T STEAL A WALLET!?
Then don't steal my poem,
You just stole a hard night's work from me.
If you say stealing money is bad, then don't contradict yourself. These 'stupid words' will be my dream career one day.
Jan 9 · 298
Scrapbook Poem #92
For young/new writers,

                                                  The best draft of your poem is the first.

              Self doubt is the number one cause of death in poets,

                                                               So don't drown in worry.

         Swim in it calmly,
                                                      
                                                            Like a swimming pool.
If you write with love, you've done it right.
Jan 9 · 299
Winter
Dead trees,
White snow,
Green pines,
And a long way to go.
Windows are like paintings that move like you.
Jan 9 · 117
Scrapbook Poem #91
Find Item
Distort Item
Project Item

Find People
Distort People
Project those People
Good Morning everybody, happy Thursday!
Jan 9 · 192
Scrapbook Poem #90
The only reason I can be positive,
opposite the were you because is
:)
Jan 9 · 214
Scrapbook Poem #89
How many times,
Do I have to say,
I want to love you,
Before you hear me bae?
Sick days are just another day away from her.
Jan 8 · 100
Scrapbook Poem #86
C O L D
r  n  i  r
a      s  i
s      t  v
h         e
W A T E R
a   n  h e  i
i    o  a r  g
t    t   t y  h
     h  s     t
     e         ?
     r
     ?
Happy Wednesday everybody!
Jan 8 · 407
Jump (MON)
How fast can you jump,
With tired legs?
Further than the wall,
Or are your legs too weak for freedom.

How far can you swim,
When your arms are sore?
Will you make it across the lake,
Or drown half way?

How much can you love,
With a broken heart?
Will you make them happy,
Or have them jumping to get away?

MON
When in danger, it's good to be somebody else.
Jan 8 · 284
Memory (MON)
Deck of cards,
Pictured scenes,
Pastel backs.

Just have to remember,
In order to play memory,
But no one will remember me.

MON
When someone fake takes a place in the real world.
Jan 7 · 130
Scrapbook Poem #88
My replies,
To comments,
Are slow, I was
Lost in time and,
I didn't see any of them at all.
If I don't get to thanking you for your support right away, trust that it's coming soon. <3
Jan 7 · 116
Write Me a Poem
"Write me a poem."
You say that like it's an easy task,
Like there's a button I can press,
To make a masterpiece.
This is not something I can exaggerate,
It takes years on years of life,
Hate, death, love, music, day, and night,
Just to write, "A simple little poem."
Poems often don't come as easy as you'd think.
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