seven hells, man!
i was just getting started,
you **** fool!
do you know what that means?
i walk around with
scandalous thoughts of you
a perfectly innocent look on my face
the inside of my lip raw
i had ideas,
you jack ***!
...waiting for boldness to overwhelm me
...waiting for the spring air
    to come in my window and
      make me wild
you deserve a good slap
if you deserve anything at all,
devil above me
devil behind me
devil below me

it's 5am
the moon is still awake
the birds sings
and the cold wind blows
over the silence

the rooster crows
and i smell
the sweet fragrance
of grasses
and i don't mind
if it's dark or cold

i have to see you
before you go home
to tell you goodbye

before i'll miss
your lips
your hugs
and your eyes

i hope by 6am
when you go
when we separate
our ways
you'll miss me too

if I suffer at this
typewriter
think how I'd feel
among the lettuce-
pickers of Salinas?
I think of the men
I've known in
factories
with no way to
get out-
choking while living
choking while laughing
at Bob Hope or Lucille
Ball while
2 or 3 children beat
tennis ***** against
the wall.
some suicides are never
recorded.

Forgive me, Father, but I'm no sinner
Crossed the finish line first but I'll never be the winner
And it burns like fire and stings like dry ice
To be a god ****** virtue disguised as a vice
To be an ant in a farm full of cows and sheep and pigs
To be kindling in a fire, burning like a twig
Forgive me, Father, if I'm not who I should be
But I'm not a sinner for just being me

But still, here I sit
toying with blackened words seeped in sadness
thinking lines like slow decline
broken hearted
so cliche and tear stained pages

clawing my way back from the brink
while shedding verbs of loneliness

isolated desperation clinging like my second skin
slowly flaking from my shoulders leaving only subtle traces
where my new skin yet feels to raw to pick up and carry on

stamping signs of happiness across black lines of begrudged depression
as though a noseless yellow face could succeed where I still fail
to vanquish the unease slowly eating at my restless mind

give me peace from these swinging moods
catapulting me between a selection of unfounded aggression and broken sobbing

I don't want to sit and think
words of how the light seems dim despite its heat

to take beauty out of sunrise
starlit nights and humble silence

take it back and leave me be
though I might not sleep for a week or three
as least I wont sit here late at night
and write depressed poetry

I'll admit I didn't notice it
the first time I saw you
there was mystery wrapped around your fingers
and silence that sliced the air
I did not expect the flash of a helmet
I saw for that half split second
but as the hands moved on I saw a glimpse of
the warrior in you.

Tattooed on your feet
are the stars of the sea,
but you keep them hidden
in black socks and high topped rubber shoes
maybe you're scared of stepping on broken glass
you've cut yourself before, I know
but if you keep your feet sealed in
walking on familiar paths
you'll never know what it feels like
to have warm sand in between your toes
or on fresh grass, dampen your soles
don't be afraid of pain, for I know that there is
the warrior in you.

Your name means messenger.
I looked it up.
You don't say as much as the others
to me at least,
but when you do
you leave fingerprints in the air and
maybe you think that your words don't matter much
but believe me, they've planted seeds
and those seeds are growing
and your messages don't just come in
consonants and syllables, but in the way you
open doors and tap shoulders,
the way you hold your head,
hold it high, because there is
the warrior in you.

You have lived through many battles
I see it in your eyes.
I hope your heart doesn't grow heavy when
you lose one, because the war's
already been won.
Learn to trust, soldier,
you'll always need backup.
And when it seems like
dawn will never come,
I hope you'll remember
the Warrior in you.

The train stops in front of me
first of the morning
get on the last car and walk quietly to the end of the row
a lone passenger sits in the aisle across from me
they wear only a thin coat even though the morning is cold and damp

It takes a moment to notice that the only foot prints down the aisle are mine
made of slow melting snow, it clings to my shoes
I wonder about that for a second...
but it’s early and the thought is brushed away leaving only the silence

No one else gets on the train with us
just the lone passenger and I
sitting silently
an impossible silence

The train runs along the track and I chance to look over at the lone passenger
they are looking back at me
unblinking, their face is weather worn and tired from life, long and hard

I want to look away, turn back and watch the darkness passing outside the window but they smile before I can
been worse, they say it softly as we look at each other
they nod slowly both to themselves and me
yes been worse they repeat
we sit again in that impossible silence

I open my mouth to question the statement
question the words of this lone passenger who passes through the world without leaving any foot prints in slow melting snow
but my words die before they have passed my lips

The automated announcer calls out my stop and the train slows
I get off and turn to look back at the lone passenger with the weather worn face
but the row is empty

There are no foot prints following mine out of the train door

No other foot prints in the slow melting snow

Again they have passed without leaving any

I stand on the platform watching the train pull away
as I stand there alone the words echo in my mind

Been worse... yes it has been, so much worse
but not anymore

I still leave foot prints in slow melting snow
not too worn to smile

Been worse...
but not anymore
not anymore