People want to read good poetry
Scratch that
People want to relate to poetry
Doesn't matter if it rhymes
Or has many lines
Doesn't have to make sense
Or be the poison to God and puzzle to infinity of time of the begging and the end
There just has to be a resonance
A connection between their life and the words on any page
Good poetry
Bad poetry
There's no difference
It's just poetry

StarMan out in the great beyond
How you touched us all with your luminous song
The wondrous echos of your voice fades only in the presence of time
As the man who fell to earth
You left a mark
On each of our down trodden hearts
StarMan out in the great beyond
Always here and never gone.

The three of us drag our feet across the snowy field
I bet you he's laughing right now Mom insists
I mean, we know we're in the right place
This spot is burned into each of our minds
But we can't find him
I use my shoes to scuff the snow off one plaque,
then another
My toes going numb and cold
Baring the grass to the frigid air
But to no avail
The three of us laugh because there is nothing else to do
There's homework and after school activities to complete
We can't stay combing the ground back and forth all day
We say our I love you's and goodbye's
And walk away, leaving only a trail of footprints behind

Today, I lost my dad's grave underneath the snow

It didn't hurt, I left it there that way
Life carried on

All the poems I wrote for you
were fond hyperbole; your hands
were not the saving kind and you
tasted nothing like the sea.

Just another suicidal night
Everything comes crashing in
Loss
      Pain
            Alone
Repeat
Over and over and over in my head
While my prayers bounce off the ceiling
While my tears fall mute on deafness

So I suffocate slowly suffering
Razors across my eyes
Filled with blood
Voices killing
All alone
nobody
nothing