I'm sitting alone, surrounded by people
An un-still congregation, away from their steeple
They pass by me, often without a glance
And when they do, i've missed my chance
Every person here has a story to tell
Their own thoughts on heaven and hell
More than just that, they've lived whole lives
I wonder for what each individual strives
There's a woman in a fluorescent orange cap
A curious thing with ears attatched
She walks into the Hudson news
And all I can hear are the sounds of their shoes
As they still walk on, not noticing me
The man who sits and writes what he sees
I wonder if that's all i'll ever be
And if any of my words mean anything

Everywhere, you don't need to choose to acknowledge it
Creating a subsequent opulence of
unanswered questions fulfilled,
pedestals gazed upon;
Securely sit our ideas of the world.
Non-conjunct actions leave words to be all that there is.
Influence gone, static amidst the change,
Stagnancy.

He did go quietly into the night,
Restless cries met deaf ears and he still continued to fight
the expectations.

Time dragged, and dragged
ceasing cessation until the inevitable
final destination.

The driver called end of the line and still he rode on, asleep;
not knowing what was going on.
His dreams had told him he had already missed his stop.

And there was no going back.

I like the way these painkillers feel
Weakening, trembling, serenity
I don't really think they'll help me heal
A cover-up, delightful amenity

I wish that my thoughts came in more than four lines
Always ****** and meaningless
And I always have this obsession with rhyme
One day i'll be left penniless

I thought today of those unfortunately without a home
and how I don't feel like helping them
I'm unbearably selfish, we're all somewhat unknown
Where's my humanity been?

I racked my brain to find someone to dedicate this to,
But with all of my searching, I could find only you.
I'm limited in my experience, there's really very few
People that I know, none as well as you.
Yes, I know that i'm in love, within and without
But it's a modest one, I wouldn't go and shout
For I know if I share, someone would claim vanity
Because the once I could be with forever is just me.

I'm so tired this morning that it's difficult to think
Waking up is such an uncomforting notion
Emerging from my slumber, I was dreaming on the brink
Of happiness and overwhelming emotion

I know my dreams were good and bad, but subject matter unknown
I wish I could remember more, like where it was that I called home

I do remember tinges of terror, only slightly frightening
I recall emptiness and being alone
I think it was another world, full of sights unseen
I don't think a name was shown

I enjoy reality, but I truly love my dreams
I wish I were like Sigmund Freud, to decipher what they mean.

lay over, lucid illumination
make way, magnificent green light
dreams approaching manifestation
wading through a peaceful night

this day likened to a rebirth
innocuous in my perception
is nothing ever returned
and nothing of resurrection?

up since the beginning
down before the end
disbelief is winning
the battle within my head

There's a man who stands like a statue and reads,
And with all his books, you'd think it'd be words he bleeds.
But it's almost as if he sits and holds his breath;
Contact and communication seem to be his death.
Such a kind soul, but it'll never be seen
Alone in a crowd, all others can be so mean.
I'd guess that the knowledge behind his eyes
is a beauty greater than the morning or evening skies.
Yet he sings still so soft that one strains to hear:
Melodies and literature, the only things he holds dear.

Several severed strings,
Sadly scattering the hope in broken dreams.
The wake of things unseen.

Confidence can mean that it seems the seams we've sewn,
seen by actions all all our own,
are stronger than we've known.

Consistently inconsistent, I love those two words
Yet combined they never happen.
In my room by myself i'm fastened;
I have no wish to be free as a bird.

If I were that free, I'd not know what to do
I'd be aimless, freezing, drifting
Throughout time and space, sifting.
Though I admit i'd be much happier than you

It wouldn't be bad at all, I suppose
I'd travel where I please
Make camp in several tall trees;
Consistently free of a still life's pose.

But i'm no free man
I love my life's security.
With or without a plan
Inconsistent consistently.

The snow is
FINALLY
f
   a  l
           l
               i
                 ng
                    I feel that i've waited too long
Now, my fear of the ROAD calls me
                   It seems that my driving is all wrong
        I slide, it seems with every touch of the brakes
                      Afraid of how much effort it takes
        I can hardly stop--

Sometimes I observe something
I have or haven't seen before.
Strangely more than anything,
A desire to feel it can't be ignored.

Despite my lack of reasons
I won't keep my hands away;
The texture allures like warmer seasons
In time, on some other day.

The rough edges protrude
One hand caressing kindly.
Often it feels smooth,
My fingers running blindly.

Every once in a while
I'll feel a door, a wall, a pillar
To observe its physical style;
How a victim's studied by a killer.

But more often than not,
No destruction is in mind.
Just the feeling and a thought
In my brain, attractively kind.

Sometimes I wish I knew why
I can't ignore the object.
A reality check that I try
To touch the sky is my next project.

Uncertainty is what i've been dealt,
These questions make me reel.
If it's something that cannot be felt,
How do we know it's real?